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He wanted this, so why would he be scared?

I’m giving him options. Wanting to see the so-called mythical beast who lived inside the man you slept with wasn’t the same as being confronted by a scaly-winged animal that towered above you.

I walked off and counted my steps until I was fifty paces away in a clearing. The ground was flat, and I removed my clothes. Sheridan cleared his throat and pink spots appeared on his cheeks. I hadn’t pointed out that my clothes wouldn’t survive the shift, but we’d slept together, so I wasn’t showing him anything new.

It wasn’t necessary to urge my dragon to take his scales. He’d been waiting since the moment he scented Sheridan. My body erupted in a frenzy as I transformed, and a tail, fangs, spikes, scales, and wings appeared so there was nothing remaining of my human self.

Despite there being no trees in the clearing, they crowded around the edges, and my beast had to keep his wings folded. I told him to crouch down so he wouldn’t be so intimating. And then came the moment when I had to look up and meet Sheridan’s eyes.

He hadn’t taken my advice and stayed by the car, and he wasn’t cowering inside or jumping in the driver’s seat and taking off. Instead, he was closer than he should have been, and like my beast, he was hunched over, reminding me of someone who was about to board a helicopter.

He had a hand over his mouth and he was crying. But he wasn’t shaking, his fists weren’t clenched, and his eyes were bright. He wasn’t scared because I would have scented fear.

He lowered his hand and didn’t back off but came closer. “Can I touch you?”

He didn’t wait for my beast to lower his head, not that he was aware of dragon etiquette, but instead, he placed a hand on my beast’s leg.

“They’re not rough like I expected them to be.” He sniffed and wiped his cheek with his arm.

Sheridan was shaking which worried my beast, but I explained it was wonder, not revulsion or disgust.

He stroked my beast’s neck, tracing over the ragged scar. “You’re beautiful. Has anyone ever told you that?”

No one had even before I was scarred. And afterward, they called my body ruined. Sheridan did the opposite. My dragon made a small sound, like he couldn’t believe those words came out of Sheridan’s mouth. I choked up—not that I could speak inside my beast—because we had been othered by our own kind since the accident, and here was a man who was showing the meaning of humanity.

Sheridan walked the length of my dragon. He was babbling again, asking questions I couldn’t answer because I wasn’t in human form.

“How old are you?

“How far can you fly?”

“Did changing into a dragon hurt?”

He trailed his hand along my side and back to the scar. Like on my own body, the seam began on my beast's jaw and wound its way beneath his wing. It mimicked my wound because he was me and that rogue dragon’s talons had torn open our body.

“It’s the same as yours.” He hiccuped and slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle a sob.

“Whoever did this to you…” He paused, and he rested his brow on my beast’s scales.

His warm breath washed over the scales, and in that moment, I almost believed we could be mates and what was in the past stayed there and had no relevance to us and my present life.

“I hope they were punished.”

I sighed but didn’t answer which was probably an answer in itself.

He studied my beast’s folded wings and asked if he could open them and fly. My dragon would break some of the branches as he always did when he took flight, but they’d grow back. My beast nudged Sheridan back, and he giggled and said it was hard to believe this was real.

Plonking himself on the dirt, he leaned back on his hands, and my dragon extended his wings and lifted up. He didn’t soar as he did when we were going to fly for hours or if he wanted to hunt. But he rose up until he cleared the trees and only one branch snapped off. He flew over the clearing before returning to the ground, and legs slammed onto the dirt and dust flew up over Sheridan.

I shifted back and pulled on my clothes, and when I turned around, Sheridan hadn’t moved. He was looking at me as he had looked at my dragon. His expression was one of… the only word that popped into my head was awe.

“I’ve been thinking about the bite.” He got up and brushed off the dirt. “You told me I marked you.” He placed his fingertips on his neck. “That it means you’re mine even though I did it without understanding what it was.”

“Yes, I’m your mate.” The mark sat under my collar and wasn’t visible unless I removed my shirt.

“But the mating only went one way because I marked you but you didn’t do the same to me.” He frowned, and I could almost see his mind whirring. “I want to make sure I got this right. Because you haven’t marked me, I’m not yours.”

“Yeah.” I cringed as I waited for what was coming and wished I could have avoided it.