It's…cozy. I'm stupidly happy, and I'm not entirely sure why.
Well, no, I know why. It's Mhal, and the freedom to do whatever we like. It's not having to answer to anyone, to come and go as we please. It reminds me of being with my father again, except…better. Dad didn't like to answer to anyone, but I always felt in some way that I was holding him back. He had to worry about my safety. He had to constantly slow down for me, or avoid situations that a girl wouldn't be present in. There were plenty of forts we avoided after someone would make a comment to my dad about me, and sometimes I got the feeling that Dad would have been happier in the apocalypse without me. Just lone wolfing it across what was left of the world.
It's not like that with Mhal. Even when he's slightly lost in his dragon-form, the moment he recalls me, it becomes all about “us” again. It's about doing things that are best for both of us. We can fly wherever we want, but I like our “home” that we're building. He hunts for meat, and pays attention to what I don't like. He brought home a few crows once, and plucking them and cooking them made me sad. He's never brought another, since.
There's some level of memory buried in Mhal's mind. I think it's just drowned out in all the crazy noise of his head.
The moment he shifts to his two-legged form, it's like I've gotten my best friend and my lover back. Mhal is arrogant, sure, but he's also smart, and attentive. He's curious, too. Now that he's “awake” he wants to learn more about this world. We walk through the amusement park and I describe the rides to him and why they're so appealing to people. I talk about the food stands, or the souvenirs, and we explore nearby buildings as well. One of Mhal's favorite games is trying to guess what a strange human object is for—and he's always wrong, which sends me into fits of laughter. We read books together at night—I read them aloud—and we talk about nothing at all. He likes to hold me in his arms and listen to my stories about nomad life as I sew, and then of course, there's the sex.
God, so much sex.
The moment Mhal shifts back to his human form, it's like his hunger for me overwhelms him. He's frisky and ready to go at a moment's notice, and I have so many orgasms in the space of a week I start to wonder how I ever managed to go for so long without touching myself back at the fort. I'm becoming addicted to my dragon…which is good, because I'm pretty sure he's addicted to me.
I can absolutely see why Rachel seems so happy with her Jurik, now. I feel the same way with Mhal. Sure, he's got flaws, but sharing headspace with each other makes you understand how the other person works. It's being completely open with your partner.
And it feels like the entire world is filled with possibility.
23
JENNY
It's a lazy day where absolutely nothing at all is going on. I'm sewing in my little shack, legs curled up on the couch as I piece together bands of costume satin to make a flashy cloak-lining that no one will ever see but totally pleases me. It's while I'm sewing that I look up, glancing at the railings that line the sightseeing walkway that circles the derrick. I half expect to see a crow or a hawk.
Instead, I see another one of those gigantic, shiny-shelled bugs like I saw back in the fort.
The sight of it makes me blanch.
What is it? What is wrong? Mhal's thoughts are fuzzy, distracted from hunting. He's got his eye on a fat bull with an extremely big set of horns, and has been chasing it down a highway. Playing with his food, I sometimes tease him.
It's a bug, I send back, adding in the mental image. Like the ones I dream about.
Then it hits me. I haven't dreamed about the bugs—or had any nightmares—since Mhal and I mated.
Of course not. Mhal's thoughts have been clearer and clearer by the day, even when in battle-form. They were reaching out to you and bothering you, so I keep them away.
Them? I ask, curious. Who's “them”?
The ones that send you the bad dreams.
I'm puzzled by this response. No one's sending me a bad dream, are they? Dreams are just something my head comes up with.
Most dreams, yes. Sometimes others reach out in your dreams and take things that don't belong to them.
That sounds…odd. I wonder if Mhal is slipping again, if it's time for him to stop hunting and come back to me to “reset” himself for a bit. Mhal, baby, who am I? I ask sweetly.