Dragon's Isolation - Miranda Martin Page 0,1

lap and presses his body against mine.

“Little eyes,” I murmur, pushing down the excitement rising in my core.

Years. It’s been years, and still he turns me on. He pulls his leg off of mine, but not before I’m acutely aware of his arousal digging into my side.

“Right,” he says, looking over at our son.

He turns and sits properly. One arm over my shoulders, his tail playing with my hair, we watch Malcolm play. These moments are rare for us, and I treasure them. It’s not often we have quiet time as a family. Survival on Tajss is far from guaranteed or easy. Every day is a fight.

“Are you hunting today?” I ask.

“No,” he says. “We have a delivery of feed coming today. It’s for the bivo herd we’re working to domesticate.”

“Oh, do you have to go?” I ask, butterflies dancing in my stomach.

I know the answer he’s going to give, but it’s not going to be the one I want.

“Yes,” he says. “It’s my duty.”

I knew it, of course, but it doesn’t change my hope to keep him home. Four days ago, the City was put on lockdown. Ladon, one of the Zmaj warriors, was exposed to something out in the desert. When he got back, he got sick, then fell into a coma. He still hasn’t woken up. Ormarr, a Zmaj healer, came to help and now he’s sick too.

As soon as Ormarr got sick, that was when Rosalind, our human leader, ordered the City into lockdown. Until we know how this sickness spreads, our only hope is to contain it. We need the Zmaj if we’re going to survive this planet—and I need my man.

“They can drop it off and leave it,” I say. “They don’t even know we’re in lockdown yet. Let someone else deal with it.”

“The bivo aren’t faring well in captivity. They need daily attention,” he stops talking and a thoughtful look is on his face. “You know this, my treasure. What is it really?”

“Can’t you stay home?” I ask.

I look at him with half-lidded eyes and pouting my lips, making it clear that I’m asking about a whole lot more than if he’s going to be home. He doesn’t miss the cue because he’s always attentive. Which I love.

“Is this an offer?”

“It could be,” I say. “If someone goes to bed on time.”

“Then I will most definitely be home.”

“But you won’t stay?” I ask, pushing.

He’s bound by honor and duty. It’s a trait I love, most of the time, but now it’s going directly against what I want, for him to stay home. To be safe.

“It will be fine,” he says, turning to our son playing on the floor. “Malcolm, would you like to go with Daddy today?”

Malcolm leaps to his feet, eyes wide and squealing with excitement. “Can I?”

“If your mother is okay with it,” Shidan says.

I stare wide-eyed at Shidan while my heart climbs into my throat and cold ice forms in my stomach. I can’t believe he’s put me on the spot like this.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” I whisper.

“Aw, mom,” Malcolm whines.

“He’ll be fine,” Shidan says.

I shake my head mutely. I can’t get words past the lump in my throat. A surge of anger forms behind the fear. He’s putting our son at risk, and I can’t believe it. How is he not taking this seriously?

“You’ll be good?” I ask.

“Yes!”

“You won’t wander off again?” I ask.

“No!”

“You’ll listen to your daddy?” I ask.

“Ugh,” Malcolm exclaims, throwing his hands up. “Too many rules! I’ll be good, I promise.”

“I don’t like it,” I say.

“So I can go!”

Shidan’s smile is broad as he nods enthusiastically, encouraging our son. I don’t want to be the bad guy here, and he’s backed me into a corner.

“You’ll stay away from others and keep Malcolm away from anyone and everyone?” I ask Shidan.

“As much as possible,” he says.

“No, period,” I insist. “Addison says we need to stay six feet apart at a minimum. You’ll keep him that far apart and yourself?”

“Of course, my love,” he says.

Malcolm is bouncing from foot to foot, flapping his wings in excitement.

“I’m going out, out-out-out, I’m going out-side!” he sings.

I can’t break his heart, and it would be good for him to get some space. He’s been cooped up for days now, and his energy is way too much for that. He’s been bouncing off the walls.

“All right,” I say, my stomach clenching tight. “Let me talk to your father some more first.”

“Ah, come on Mommy! Let me go!” He leaps