Dragon Bound (Elder Races #1)(96)

“Come on, darling,” he coaxed. He held his empty hands out from his sides. “There’s no reason for panic. You remember all of us. You like us. God, you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

She arched her neck and looked at him sidelong. Was that awareness in her eyes? Did she understand what he was saying?

“Give me a sign, sugar.” Gentle, gentle. Now he had the barest hint of what she experienced when she talked him back to himself. “Let me know you’re in there.”

She looked across the moonlit open field and then back at him. A run sounded pretty nice. But there he was with his face all lit up. He looked like it was his birthday, Christmas and New Year’s, all rolled into one.

She took a couple of steps toward him. They were eye to eye when he was on his knees. The breath shook out of him. She walked the rest of the way to him and laid her shining head against his shoulder.

He stroked her velvet nose. She lipped at his fingers. His eyes glittered with a damp sheen. He sat cross-legged and pulled her onto his lap. She curled her legs underneath her like a cat. He put his arms around her and rested his cheek on the top of her head. They listened to the sound of the wind in the distant trees.

“Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you.”

She had trouble changing back and came close to panicking again. He had to guide her through the transition. He held her the whole time and talked to her until she was back in her human form again and kneeling on the ground in front of him.

“Why was it so hard to change back?” She gasped, clinging to his hands.

“It won’t always be,” he told her. “I’m told it’s like learning to walk or ride a bicycle. Once you’ve mastered the shift it will soon become second nature. You could shift and change back to yourself now that you’ve gone through it once, but I don’t recommend it right away. The first time, especially for a half-breed, can leave you wrung out.”

“Tell me about it.” Her tone was grumbling but her eyes were bright.

He helped her to her feet as the gryphons drew closer. All four men were staring at her in wonder. She looked at Graydon, who smiled at her.

“If you ain’t a sight for sore eyes,” he said. “I thought you were just going to end up being something small, fast and weird, like a marmoset or something.”

On impulse she went over to him and flung her arms around his neck. “Thank you for being such a good friend.”

The big man held very still and looked at Dragos over her shoulder. Dragos’s expression turned dark, but after a moment he gave the gryphon a short nod. Graydon patted her back, his gray eyes smiling. “My pleasure, cupcake.”

Dragos put a hand on her arm and drew her away. He told her, “We should head back now.”

He and the gryphons changed. She paid close attention to the ease and skill with which they shifted form. She wanted to try it again on her own, but that was going to have to wait until she had some rest. She felt like every nerve was exposed and hyperaware. At the same time, her eyelids expressed their own opinions by closing on her whether she liked it or not.

She fell asleep on the flight back. She didn’t even wake up when Dragos changed, which he did with extreme control and dexterity. He held both front feet underneath her as the shift began. As he compacted, his forelegs shifted to human arms underneath her knees and shoulders, until he was standing as a man on the roof of the Tower, holding her sleeping form close to his chest.

The gryphons had already changed. They gathered around, staring at her along with Dragos. She was still shining.

Rune stood hipshot, his thumbs hooked into the belt holes of his jeans. He said in a quiet voice, “You realize, don’t you, that if this gets out she’s going to be hunted for the rest of her life.”

“She’s already aware of that, and so am I.” Dragos’s face was grim. “So it doesn’t get out. Nobody hears about it. Understand?”

“What about Aryal, Grym and Tiago?”

“Not even the other sentinels, not right now. This stays between us.” He looked down at her sleeping face resting against his shoulder. “She’s had a hell of a week for a lot of reasons. I want to give her a break and let her just be for a while. Then she can decide who gets to know and who doesn’t.”

She came half awake as Dragos eased her clothes off and tucked her into bed, only to roll over and bury her face in a pillow, one leg bent. He stripped, slid under the covers beside her and molded his body to hers, hooking his leg under hers, one arm tucked around her. She laced her fingers with his. He buried his face in her hair.

She slept hard and then dreamed of running. She woke with a start when she realized she was running on four legs, and the memory of what had happened sent a glow of happiness through her. The morning sun had brightened the room.

She looked at Dragos, who lay on his side facing her, one heavy arm draped around her. The hard lines of his face were quiet in sleep. The bedcovers had slipped to their waists, and the muscles of his chest and arms were relaxed. His eyelashes were twin curls of black against his bronze, lean cheeks, his inky hair tousled. His morning erection pressed against her hip.

He would never be a soft man. The capacity for violence lived and breathed under his skin. But he had shown her moments of extraordinary gentleness, and she suspected seeing him so relaxed in unguarded sleep was a rare gift of trust.