Chapter 23

The first thing Morgan sensed as he slowly drifted back toward consciousness was warmth. Penetrating, bone-deep warmth. He could hardly even remember what cold was when surrounded by so much warmth. It could have felt drying, suffocating, but instead, it felt like being tucked underneath a soft, breathing blanket.

Was he tucked under a blanket? And where did the “breathing” thing come from?

Ah, the movement. The warmth pulsed around him in a slow, easy rhythm, and beneath it was a comforting sound that made Morgan want to tuck his face even closer to the blanket, which he did. Mmm, bliss.

“He waking up?” a familiar voice asked.

“Not yet.” This voice rumbled, deep and reverberating, making the blanket tremble a bit from the force of it even though it was clear that the speaker was trying to be quiet. “Stirring a bit, but it will be a little longer before he’s conscious again. Don’t be afraid, though. He’ll wake soon.”

“I’m not afraid.”

The deep voice laughed, low enough to send a thrum through Morgan’s body. “Not of many things, no. Of this? I think you are.” A bit more gently, it added, “We all were.”

The familiar voice sighed. “I thought he was going to die.”

“So did I.”

“He would be dead without you.”

“Don’t underestimate yourself.”

The familiar voice scoffed harshly. “I pulled him out of the water. You set fire to the ship.” His voice became awed. “I still can’t believe it. All this time, we thought you were a human, and you turned out to be …”

“This.”

“Yes.” There was a pause. “I thought your people were nothing but a myth. We have legends of the Brindarra, but it’s been generations since anyone actually claimed to have met any of you.”

The deep voice hummed thoughtfully. “I don’t remember my own history very fully … I have a sense that that’s probably for the best.” They shared a moment of grim, respectful silence before he went on. “I remember a few things, though. I lived human—my coloring was such that I could do so without giving myself away.”

“They have red hair too?”

Red hair?Why was that striking a chord inside of Morgan?

“Some of them do. More have brown or yellow or black hair, but red pops up, especially in the north. I was the only one of my kind in their village, I think. I … I don’t know how I found out that they were coming this way.” The voice grunted with frustration. “Perhaps that’s why I was in the village in the first place, keeping track of their movements. Perhaps not. Either way, I decided I had to go with them. I don’t remember how I got onto the ship, but I knew once I was on that I could never allow any of those people to return home.

“I didn’t even have to use this form on their ship,” he continued wryly. “They had so much powder on board, all I had to do was set it alight. They discovered me in the act, though, and I ended up burning more of it than I intended. I didn’t have time to transform and fly away—it was all I could do to leap into the water as the ship exploded. And then …

“And then Morgan found you.”

“Yes. Wounded and in human form.”

“And with no memory of your dragon self.”

Dragon? What kind of dragon? Another sea dragon? What had Garen said …

Ha, Garen! That was the familiar voice! Morgan was pleased that he was able to recall it even if he couldn’t share his pleasure. That just left the identity of the person holding him so warmly, so sweetly.

“I wish I had remembered sooner,” the rumbling voice said ruefully. “It would have saved you all so much grief if you’d known I wasn’t actually human.”

“You did the best you could.”

“I nearly ruined his life.”

“No. No, Auban, you saved us. You saved all of us! No matter how it came about in the end, no matter what we had to go through to get here, there’s no gainsaying the fact that you are the reason our people are still alive now.” Garen kept talking, but Morgan wasn’t listening any longer, his mind spiraling off into memory with the mention of—

Auban. Auban, Auban, he—my person, my mate, my love, he was going to leave! The ship came, and he paddled ashore, where—how—

“He’s breathing harder.”

“I think he’s getting close to waking up.” Something gently nudged his face. “Morgan …” He felt cradled in that croon, felt it vibrate through his lungs and into his heart and down to his soul. “Darling. I’m here.” There was another faint nudge, and then— “Should I change back?”

“He’ll recognize you,” Garen said confidently. “He would recognize you in any form. I’ll give you some privacy, but if you need me, just call.”

“Brevaer is sitting right outside even though he ought to be lying down,” Auban said. “Try to get him to rest. We’ll be all right.”

Garen laughed. “You think he’ll listen to me on this?”

“I think he would do almost anything for you.”

There was a faintly embarrassed silence, and then Garen mumbled, “Thanks,” and walked away. There were murmurs in the distance, but Morgan could only focus on the body holding him. The huge, warm, leathery blanket of a body holding him, which rocked him with every breath and soothed him with every heartbeat.

Auban. Auban was here, and he was … he was …

Morgan fought to open his eyes, finally managing the tiniest of slits. It was dark, wherever they were, but there was enough light for him to make out the outline of the head above him. It had a shock of red hair and was mottled here and there with burn scars. It also had a long pair of curving horns, a muzzle full of sharp teeth, and blue eyes so bright they glowed in the dark.

“Auban,” Morgan whispered wonderingly. He tried to lift his hand toward his lover’s face, but the pain in his abdomen stopped him.

“Easy, my darling. My sweet.” Auban touched him very gently on the forehead with the tip of his snout. “I’m here. You’re going to be all right now.”

“I know.” How could he not be? He was alive, if in more and more pain the more he woke up, and his mate was here with him. His beautiful, dangerous, dragonish mate.

Whatever spirit had blessed Morgan with this fate, he could only hope he proved worthy of it.

“Auban.” This time, Morgan did manage to reach his lover’s face. “Tell me everything.”