Two Mates for the Dragon - Page 36

He knows my name. he knows my fucking name.

“Who’s asking?” I meant to sound tough, but it’s pretty goddamned hard to sound tough when you’re doggy-paddling in rough waters and glaring at the waves because you’re too terrified to stare down a dragon.

Because you know what’ll happen if you try. Because you’ve been through all this before, and you’ve spent the last ten years trying desperately to forget it. To move on. To survive.

Suddenly, surviving doesn’t sound like such a good choice anymore. Maybe I should have let myself drown. Because if this dragon knows my name…

The next thing the dragon says terrifies me more than any threats could.

“You can call me Ygdris. If you are Tay Walker, then I have a job for you.”

My throat closes over. I barely manage to choke out: “Not interested.”

I don’t wait for him to speak again. Another wave slaps me in the face as I strike out sideways, heading for my kayak. I grab hold of it, my head spinning.

What am I doing? Running from the Protectorate? I can’t paddle faster than he can fly – and if his pair is around here anywhere…

Dragons never do anything alone. I hold myself up on the side of the kayak. Where’s the other one hiding? They must be here somewhere – my skin is on fire, the electric thrill of the dragon’s gaze so intense I can hardly feel the water, and that can’t just be from one dragon. Ygdris’ pair must be hiding just out of sight.

“I haven’t even told you what I require.”

“No need,” I snap, hauling myself into the kayak and almost tipping it over. I brace myself on all fours, breathing heavily as I regain my balance. How did this happen? “You’re going to carry me off anyway. I’m not going to listen to whatever story you’ve made up to make it seem like I want to go.”

“You misunders—”

My hands clench. “Look, just don’t bother, okay. We both know why you’re here.”

He knows my name. There’s only one reason a dragon would know my name and come looking for me.

“A job. Bloody hell. That’s how he wants to play this? Did you move my cray pots, too, is that all part of the fucking fun?”

The only reason I paddled out this close to the Dome was because my cray pots had gone missing. I’d spotted the buoys out here, and figured they’d been swept away in last night’s storm. Now I’m not so sure.

The buoys were here all right, bobbing against this bashed-up section of the Dome, but their ropes had been cut. I should have known it was a trap.

My chest hollows out. Each breath makes my head spin, but I force myself to keep talking. Might as well. Dragons – one dragon in particular, the one who I’m betting sent this bastard to play delivery boy – like to play these games. Laying a trail, using your own curiosity against you, so that once you’re snarled in their trap they can look at you and say, You did this to yourself.

So I might as well talk now, before he gets me so tangled up in my own mind that I don’t know who I am or what I want or don’t want anymore.

Hell. Maybe I’ll piss him off enough that he’ll kill me.

“You’re not here because of a job,” I spit. “You’re here because h-he sent you. Because, God knows why, he’s changed his mind and w-wants me—”

My voice breaks off. I can’t say it. Fuck, I can barely even think it.

Ygdris makes an exasperated noise. “Games? Cray pots? I don’t have time for this. If you are—” He hisses, and I lose control long enough to see him flinch, head down, one hand flying to his chest. His knuckles are bone-white.

I tear my eyes away just as he raises his. Electricity dances across my face and neck.

That was close. Too fucking close. And the tingle in my lips… no. I can’t let my body’s reaction to the dragon distract me.

“If you are Tay Walker, then I have a job for you. That’s all.”

“Oh, sure, and my buoy ropes just ripped themselves up. This is all a complete coincidence.”

“Don’t get me wrong, Tay Walker, I tracked you here for a reason. And I will not let you leave without assisting me. But I don’t expect you to work for free.”

This is a trick. I repeat the words over and over, trying to convince myself. This is a trick. A trap. A game.

Tags: Zoe Chant Paranormal
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