Page 107 of I Dream of Dragons

I have to believe he’ll wake up, and quickly. That nothing is fundamentally wrong with him. I’ve heard stories of people who hit their heads and never returned to life.

But he’s Athdara. Jai. I’m sure Phaethon wouldn’t let him die.

I press a hand to my chest. I felt my magic earlier, a flicker of it, but it was there. I didn’t imagine it, or else why would the mermaids have left us in peace? My dagger is hardly a fearsome weapon.

And I’m hardly a fearsome individual. Short and scrawny, with aching legs and feet and a distinct lack of muscles. Miraculously alive.

I let my hand drop to Jai’s hair as I wait for him to wake up. I’m obsessed with it. I love how it twines around my fingers like a living thing. Or maybe it is a living thing, I realize, gazing down. Shadows slither among the strands, over my fingers, faint whispers threading the air.

Bowing over him, I try to hear what they’re saying.

Makhair, they seem to say.The thorn, not the rose. The sweet pain. The fierce abandon.

I blink, my eyes stinging. Only Mars knows what he told me so long ago, on that river shore. Only Mars…

A soft moan breaks through my thoughts and stills my hand in that smoky, raven hair.

Jai’s dark lashes flutter and lift. His eyes are black eddies, inviting me to drown in them, in their stormy ink. I’m lost in the soft shape of his mouth, the hard line of his jaw, the tendons in his long neck, the black spirals and swirls on his skin, the scars on his arms from where he’s been cutting himself to control Phaethon.

“You’re awake,” I whisper and have to swallow again past a lump of emotion stuck in my throat. “Jai…”

Something about this position feels familiar. Looking down at his handsome face, I think I hear the distant roar of a waterfall and the lowing of cows grazing. I think I hear voices.

And when he smiles, it’s familiar, too.

Painful. Bewildering. Marvelous.

My tears slide down my cheeks. I don’t try to stop them.

He slowly lifts a hand and wipes his thumb under my eyes, first one cheek, then the other. “I’m here,” he says, his familiar voice hoarser than ever. “Don’t cry,makhair. Everything will be all right.”

I help him sit up, propping his back against a low wall, and turn my face away, scrubbing at the last of the tears. He wasn’t supposed to see them, seeme… see right through me.

Putting my defenses back up is a struggle I’m not sure I’m going to win.

He is rubbing at his brow, frowning, his long legs stretched in front of him, and I’m crouched beside him, resisting the urge to flee.

“Makhair,” he starts, and I lift a hand to stop him.

“The draks are gone,” I say in a rush, “and so are the mermaids. But we should get back inside, in case they return.”

“Where are the guards?” he finally asks, glancing around. “How did you drive back the sea draks?”

My blood chills. “How many of them were there?”

“Three.”

Three sea draks. The sea queen means business.

“You’re here alone,” he whispers, his gaze swinging back to me, dark and unfathomable. “You did this on your own. You saved me.”

“Don’t mention it,” I mutter.

One side of his mouth tilts up. “I told you, you like me.”

I can’t deny it.

“Did you use magic to push them back?”