“In-sane,” she repeats the word slowly. “Are. You. Insane. Children? Seriously? I don’t even know you, and I’m sure as hell not ready to have children with you. I don’t even want to date a Zmaj.”
The other humans are watching the exchange between us with great interest, while the Zmaj males properly keep their attention scanning the environment for dangers.
“I am not insane,” I say. “You are my mate. It is known, my dragon has claimed you. You were sent to me by Tajss herself to be mine. By the same token, I am yours.”
I take her arm to help her up the dune we’re on, but she jerks it away.
“Look,” she says. “I appreciate you saving us. I do. And I don’t want to seem like a total bitch here, but no. Thank you, but no.”
“No?”
“No,” she repeats. “No children. Hell, no sex, okay? Stop looking at me like that, too. I’m not your one. I don’t believe in fate, I’m not your mate, and I sure as hell am not claimed by you or claiming you for myself.”
I run in silence, trying to understand her words. They contradict the look in her eyes. Her eyes burn with unspent passion. I see her looking at me when she thinks I’m not looking. I am an able male, a capable warrior. More, the claim is real. There is no mistaking it for something else.
No, Tajss intends us to be together. I am sure of it.
“Do you not have a…” I trail off trying to think of a word that would fit for humans.
They are not dragons, what are they? What is their internal guidance? Their connection to Tajss and life?
“A what? A brain? My own thoughts?”
“It is my dragon,” I say. “My connection to Tajss.”
“How would I be connected to Tajss? I’m not from here.”
This is going bad.
“We are meant to be together,” I say. “I will trust in Tajss.”
“O-kay,” she says, dragging the word out. “You do that.”
“You are a treasure, my treasure. I will protect you, always. I will care for you, supply your every need. Your desire is my command. I am the one.”
She opens her mouth when I speak, but when I continue, she snaps it shut. Her face softens, and her frown twitches at the corners, almost becoming a smile. She shakes her head.
“You are insane,” she says on a long exhale, but as she does, she wipes a hand across her eyes to take away the moisture resting in the corners.
The tone of her voice is different, more welcoming than before. I smile.
“If it is so,” I say. “It is because your beauty has stunned me from my senses.”
She gasps, swallows hard, and turns her head away. She wipes her hand across her face again, and now we run in silence. It’s a better silence though. A silence born of understanding. Acceptance.
I’m not a fool. I know she doubts her fate, but that is fine. She will see, in time, I am the one. My duty now is to make sure she—and as many of her fellow humans as possible—survive to see that time arrive.
If my training in the Order has taught me anything, patience is it. We think in terms of millennia, not days or even years. Our plan to save Tajss, which is now in jeopardy, forces us to think longer. Think bigger than we ever have before.
In the Order, we had the vision of The Eye to guide us. In this, I have instinct. The finding of a mate is so native to a Zmaj that no other Zmaj would question the knowing. She is not a Zmaj though, she’s human.
Perhaps they don’t have the same instinct? Do they have an equivalent to our dragon? That manifestation of our primal selves? It is so core to what a Zmaj is, I don’t think any of us have questioned the presence of it in the humans.
Our dragon is the core of who we, as Zmaj and as males, are. It is, like all things, good and bad but yet neither. It is our potential and our drive. Unlike my brethren, my training has allowed me to stay in control of the negative aspects of it, the bijass.
The bijass is the dragon’s smokey breath covering over memory, forcing us to live in the moment we are in by stealing away moments that came before. It saves us from knowing all that we have done, from living with the losses and the pain by making those memories vague. It is our drive towards primality. Our basest instincts and the drive to dominate the world around us.
The dragon is our connection to Tajss itself.
I wish I had time to explore this further. I want to know her, to understand everything about her. Anticipation quivers within me, impatient for her to share all with me as I will share all with her. We will be as one. Raising our beautiful children together.
A roaring whine interrupts my thoughts. Invaders.
My Zmaj form a barrier around the humans, closing in the stragglers. Four transport ships whiz overhead. The ships speed through the air in a tight formation. They pass us then come to a stop, hovering in the air three dozen strides away.
Murmurs of fear and building panic rise from the humans, but the Zmaj are looking at me, waiting for orders.
“Sir?” Pachua asks.
We’re close. The City dome sparkles on the horizon.
“We run,” I say. “Warriors, help the humans.”
Panic overtakes the humans and they run. My Zmaj form a line behind the running crowd, ready to help any who slow down. Anna is still standing, staring at me.
“We’re not going to make it,” she says.
“We don’t have a choice,” I say. “When they close with us, my warriors will fight to buy you time to get your people into the City.”
She swallows. Her lips and hands tremble as she frowns.
“You… can’t,” she says, her words coming out tight.
“I will protect you and your people,” I say.
She walks closer and time stops. No matter the impending danger, the world is nothing but the two of us. She stops a hand’s width away. I feel her warmth and her breath on my scales. Desire is a hard knot in my core.
“I don’t know you,” she whispers, one trembling hand reaching across the distance and coming to rest on my chest.
Her hand is warm. So warm, kind, my hearts gallop at her touch. Blood rushes to my head making me dizzy, and my mouth is dry as the sand. I want to touch her, but I don’t dare.
“You will,” I whisper.
“Fate, right,” she says.
Her eyes glisten brightly. Her lips are so full and lush, it takes all my will to not taste them. I want, with every fiber of my being, to lay my claim on them. The dragon roars, pushing me to do it, but she is not ready. I will not.
“Yes,” I say. “We are meant for one another.”
“Don’t die,” she says. “I want to find out.”
I’m hanging on every word. My chest constricts until my hearts can’t beat. I’m held in this magical moment with her. Nothing else matters. She withdraws her hand and time rushes forward, my hearts working double time to catch up.
“I won’t. I promise. Now run,” I order, boldly hooking an arm around her waist and helping her.
We catch the others as I hear the sounds of pursuit on the ground. The ships have unloaded dozens of Invaders. Their boots crunch loudly as they run after us. I let Anna go to help another human who stumbles and falls. She keeps running while I carry the fallen human until he’s gotten his bearings again and can run on his own.