Page 17 of Thrown into the Mob

“My family will be more understanding. They understand how impossible it is to ignore the mating bond.” He leaned his head against the rock and closed his eyes. “Not that I’m acting on it. But I need to contact Flint.”

He must’ve been battling his wolf over mating and that was draining his energy.

“There's a gas station south of here. I can ask to use their phone.”

He opened his eyes. “Let’s go.”

“No.” That came out sharper than I intended. “You’re hurt.”

You care about him. My dragon was pleased.

Did I? I’d never been part of a loving family, so I’d only seen people who cared about one another on TV. I had no examples in my own life.

“I don’t want you walking that far.”

And there you are again, looking after him.

Durand heaved himself up. “Well, I’m not sitting here waiting to be put on a spit and seared to perfection.”

“Dragons don’t do that!” Well, we didn’t bother with putting our prey on a spit.

“And you don’t get to tell me what to do just because of what the universe did.” He placed a hand on his wound. “Your dragon did this.” He strode off in the wrong direction.

“I’m so sorry he led you to safety and I tended your injury.” I could just let him go. He’d reach the road about a mile away and might be lucky enough to hail a ride from someone who wasn’t a dragon. “Come back. The gas station is this way.”

He stopped, and I imagined him weighing the pros and cons.

“There’s nothing good in that direction.”

He flung himself around, his mouth set in a straight line, and stomped toward me. I pointed in the direction of the gas station.

“Hungry?” I pulled a cereal bar from the bag, and he snatched it from my hand.

“Just because you’re my you-know-what, you don’t get to dictate my movements.”

“I’ll only do it when you’re being ridiculous and walking into danger.”

TEN

MADD

The gas station was a ten-minute walk that took us twenty because I kept having to stop.

Not because of the shoulder, though that wasn't helping. It was a dizziness that clouded my vision and made the ground tilt. I’d suffered blood loss, an adrenaline crash, and my wolf was drawing energy from every part of me to feed the repair. I'd felt it before with minor injuries but never with a bullet graze while hiking through dark woods with a dragon shifter who walked three paces ahead and kept glancing back as if he expected me to collapse.

And I probably would because my vision was blurring.

“I’ll slow down.” Conrad didn’t turn around as he spoke.

“No. I need to warn Flint, and we have to get away from the dragon posse that’s sure to be on our tail.”

“You've stopped twice in ten minutes.”

“I was admiring the trees.”

He made a sound that might have been suppressed laughter or perhaps a dragon eye roll came with sound effects. But he slowed his pace, dropping back until we were walking side by side.

The woods thinned and a road appeared with two lanes of cracked asphalt. Beyond it, a gas station sat encircled by fluorescent light. I ran my gaze over the small building with a hand-painted sign and a pickup truck parked near the door. This was the kind of place that survived on truckers and locals, and I hoped they didn't ask questions about people who showed up on foot in the middle of the night.