Page 14 of Rook (Dragon Brides #11)

It was crazy to follow a bunch of alien slaver dragons in her beat-up van.

It was even crazier to follow the assholes on foot.

Sasha tried to convince herself that this was all fine and that Rook would keep her safe if something went horribly wrong.

When something went horribly wrong.

"Damn it," he cursed and stumbled beside her.

Of course, only one of them seemed capable of moving easily through the woods. And it wasn't the dragon warrior.

The night air hung thick around them. Even with the threat of alien slavers lurking somewhere ahead, Sasha couldn't help but drink in the familiar beauty of her forest. The scent of evergreen and damp earth filled her lungs, and the gentle rustling of leaves overhead sounded like whispered secrets.

Even in the darkness, even with danger promising to find them, she felt a twisted comfort. That was her world, her territory. The woods had always been her refuge, the place she ran to when life got too heavy, too complicated, too human.

An owl hooted in the distance, its haunting call echoing through the trees. For a moment, she almost forgot they were tracking murderous aliens.

Almost.

The path narrowed, forcing them closer together as they picked their way over a fallen log. Rook's arm brushed against hers, warm even through the fabric of her sleeve. He steadied her with a light touch at her elbow when her boot slipped on a patch of moss.

If she squinted and ignored the mortal danger, it almost felt like a date.

A nice nature hike with her boyfriend. The kind of thing normal people did.

He'd point out constellations, she'd show him her favorite spot by the creek, and maybe they'd share a thermos of hot cocoa with just a hint of whiskey before making out on a pile of leaves. It was a pretty thought.

Except that Rook wasn't her boyfriend. He'd made it annoyingly clear that nothing was going to happen between them.

She was a distraction.

And apparently, she was still distracting him. Because unless there was some sort of dragon social-norm she was misinterpreting, he kept eye-fucking her.

An eye-fuck was an eye-fuck, no matter the planet.

His gaze would linger when he thought she wasn't looking, tracing the curve of her jaw, the line of her neck, the shape of her body in the darkness.

Heat would spark in those impossibly golden eyes before he'd force himself to look away, jaw clenched tight enough to crack teeth.

Then, a minute later, his eyes would find her again, hungry and wanting and fighting it all at once.

For a guy who claimed to be focused on his mission, he sure spent a lot of time looking at her like she was the mission.

They continued in silence, the soft crunch of pine needles beneath their boots the only sound. Sasha tried to focus on the path ahead, on finding the slavers, on anything but the way her skin tingled whenever Rook came too close. She was failing miserably.

Suddenly, Rook grabbed Sasha's arm tightly.

She opened her mouth to ask what the hell he was doing when he placed his other hand over her lips.

Alright, she got the picture.

She nodded, but he still waited a beat before removing his hand.

Her finger tingled, the one that he'd basically sucked after she touched something she shouldn't have.

I know heat.

Yeah, right.

For someone who didn't want to be distracted, he wasn't acting like it.

Rook tugged her down into a crouch.

And now she was the distracted one.

His body was so close she could feel the unnatural warmth radiating from him, like standing next to a furnace on a winter day.

His breathing was controlled but deep, his chest rising and falling in a hypnotic rhythm that made her too aware of her own rushed breaths.

His hand still gripped her forearm, firm but not painful, the touch both protective and possessive.

They duckwalked forward. "There's a canyon here," Sasha whispered. She got as close to him as she could, letting her lips brush his ear.

Rook stiffened.

His entire body went rigid, muscles coiling beneath his skin like a predator about to pounce.

She felt a tremor run through him, a split-second shudder that spoke of restraint stretched to breaking.

His head turned slightly toward her, their faces now inches apart.

In the silvery moonlight, his eyes had a faint glow, pupils wide and dark against the gold.

For one breathless moment, Sasha thought he might close that tiny gap between them.

Instead, he exhaled slowly, a wisp of actual smoke escaping between his clenched teeth.

"I thought you wanted high ground to defend," she kept talking.

It would be super embarrassing if all they were hiding from was a family of deer. Or even bears, really.

"If you're an army, yes," Rook agreed. "Though that doesn't matter much when we fight in our other forms. But a canyon is a great place to hide, especially with cloaking tech."

His other form. His dragon form.

The thought sent a shiver of fearful excitement down her spine. She tried to picture it: Rook, not as the imposing man beside her, but as something immense and scaled, with wings that could block out the moon and fire that could consume forests.

Would he still have those same golden eyes? Would he still look at her with that mixture of hunger and restraint?

She imagined what it might be like to touch scales instead of skin, to feel the heat of his dragon form beneath her palms. Would his wings unfurl like sails catching wind?

What would it feel like to ride on his back, soaring above the treetops, the world spread out beneath them like a patchwork quilt?

It was terrifying and exhilarating, and she wanted it so much it made her chest ache.

"Can we see past this cloaking tech?" she asked, forcing her mind back to the task at hand.

"It's meant to disguise them from scans from my ship. They don't have the funds or generators big enough to visually cloak their camp."

"Oh. Okay. That's good." Probably.

They were up in the middle of nowhere. Sasha only hoped hikers had been staying away. Otherwise, they were making themselves treats for the slavers.

They crept forward, staying low, using the brush for cover.

With each step, Rook positioned himself slightly in front of her, his broad shoulders effectively becoming a shield.

When a branch snapped under her boot, he froze, arm extended across her chest to hold her back, his body coiled and ready to protect her.

It was sweet, in its way. Sweet and frustrating and a little condescending, like he thought she was made of glass. She'd survived plenty on her own before he came along with his fire and his muscles and his brooding alien nobility.

Still, something warm bloomed in her chest at his instinctual protectiveness. No one had ever treated her as something precious before, something worth shielding.

They reached the edge of the canyon, a wide gash in the earth that dropped away beneath them.

Sasha squinted into the darkness, seeing nothing at first. Just more darkness, more trees, the faint glimmer of what might have been water at the bottom.

But then she focused harder, letting her eyes adjust, and … there.

Something was off about the shadows at the canyon floor.

They weren't quite right, too structured, too solid against the fluid darkness of the forest. As her eyes adjusted, details emerged: the sleek, curved hull of what could only be a spaceship, gleaming faintly under the stars.

Around it, artificial lights glowed, revealing a camp setup that looked bizarrely similar to the RV parks she knew so well.

Parts of the ship itself seemed to have unfolded, extending outward like pop-outs on a luxury camper, creating additional living space.

"Are they camping outside? Why? They've got a whole ship."

"It's small."

It did not look small.

"And they want to see the sky." There was some wistfulness in his tone.

He'd been camping outside, too. Maybe it wasn't just about keeping his ship hidden.

There was something almost child-like in the way he said it, a glimpse of longing beneath the hard warrior exterior.

She wondered what skies he was used to, what stars he called home.

What did his planet look like at night? Did dragon lords sit around campfires and tell stories? Did they have s'mores on his planet?

The random thought nearly made her smile, despite everything.

They inched closer to the edge, seeking a better vantage point. Rook's hand found the small of her back, steadying her as they navigated the rocky outcropping. The contact sent warmth spreading across her skin, distractingly pleasant.

Suddenly, Sasha heard a mechanical whirr, and Rook tackled her to the ground.

The impact knocked the wind from her lungs, but she barely noticed the discomfort. Rook's body covered hers completely, his weight pressing her into the dirt and pine needles. One of his hands cradled the back of her head, protecting it even as he'd taken her down.

Rook rolled over and let out a stream of fire that hit the device dead on. It dropped to the ground with a dull thud.

It was about the size of a Roomba, if a Roomba could fly. Now it was just a melting husk of a … something.

"What is that?"

"Surveillance drone," he said. He shot another wave of fire.

"Um … are they going to notice that it's fried to a crisp?"

He looked down at the camp. "Unlikely. But that won't be the only one.

If they're flying in a standard formation, we only have a few minutes before the next one comes our way.

The humans are down there; they're being held by the ship.

They wouldn't let them inside, it's too much of a risk one could get free and sabotage something. "

"And you're about to charge in and rescue everyone?" she asked hopefully.

He gave her a soft smile. "We can't tonight."

"What if they take off before we?—"

"There's a flight window. They can't leave for five more nights. Trust me, Sasha, we're going to get your friends back."

When he said it like that, she almost believed him.