by Amelia Jade
Sandy wasn’t going to allow anyone on her property. She couldn’t.
So day after day she toiled away on her own. Seeding, tending, harvesting. Every stage, whatever each crop needed, she did it herself. What it meant was that much of her land lay fallow, unused and rejuvenating itself. Her crops grew swiftly, well fed from the nutrient-rich land since she wasn’t even coming close to over-farming it.
But it wasn’t much of a life. Holidays were nonexistent, and sick-days were only a thing if she was passing out from standing up. Otherwise she was out there, rain or shine, doing what needed to be done.
More than once she’d asked herself if she’d made the right choice.
“Get yourself together, woman. This is the life you chose. It’s the life you want. It’s perfect. And private. Everything you need.”
Sandy finished tying her hair back and pulled the ponytail through her cap, setting it on her head.
Okay, it was game time.
Chapter Three
Palin
“Fuck that shit show,” he snarled, slamming the car door behind him. “And fuck the humans. This is why we were better off not getting involved with them.”
Beside him Torran laughed. “You’re just upset because you got your ass beat in the simulator.”
“So did the both of you,” he reminded the other two occupants of the big pickup truck, keying the engine to life. “They programmed it to make it harder. There’s no way in the real world I wouldn’t have been able to take on those warriors. They would fall beneath me like wheat to the scythe.”
Torran growled in agreement, while in the back Rowe remained quiet and thoughtful. Palin guided them through the base, passing through one checkpoint after another. He longed to be away from the humans and their trickery. Even the other dragons got on his nerves, the ones they had awakened through science that were fully supportive of the humans.
“I say we just go back to the enclave and tell them that we’re done. We talked to the humans, we don’t believe the dangers, and that they don’t need our help.” He smiled as he talked. “Then we can get back to doing what we do best.”
“Drinking and making a fool of yourself?” Torran supplied.
Palin punched him, not holding back. “Living our lives among our own kind.”
The trio of them had been sent from their home, an enclave of dragons that had never fallen asleep, but had stayed awake throughout the years. The leaders had decreed that they were to go and meet with the humans after their last ambassador had been killed.
Instead of one, they had sent three. Their mission had been to investigate whether the human treachery ran deeper than the rogue general who had killed the previous ambassador, and to see whether the threat of the Outsiders was as serious as the humans claimed.
Though Palin had seen the portal with his own eyes and spoken to the other dragons, he put it down to their lack of preparedness to explain why they couldn’t win. If he were to encounter them, they would die swiftly, of that he was sure. They had completed one half of their mission already.
The evidence presented showed that the traitor, a General Knefferson by name, had betrayed and killed the previous ambassador all on his own. Even Palin had to agree, begrudgingly of course, that the humans’ new leader was no traitor. General Mara was someone who understood things like honor, duty, and doing whatever it took in the face of danger to protect others. If she weren’t a human, he might even like her. Though her mate was a bit of a barbarian.
That was another thing he couldn’t fathom. Dragons mating with humans?! It was one more example of the differences between him and his kind and the dragons from the ancient past. Palin couldn’t believe they would sully themselves like that. There had to be another reason, but he couldn’t see it yet.
“We’ll make the report when I’m ready to,” Rowe said eventually.
“I’m just saying,” Palin repeated. “We know what’s going on now.”
“Do we?” Rowe asked casually.
Palin frowned. He’d thought that the three of them were in agreement, but apparently not. Rowe was in charge by dint of being the “eldest” of the three, though three years’ difference when it came to dragons wasn’t really much of a difference at all.
“You don’t agree,” he stated, finally exiting the base and heading down the mountain and toward the fields that lay beyond.
Their goal was Barton City, where they were returning to the accommodations given to them by the humans. Although Palin disliked being surrounded by a city of humans, he had grown used to it over years of experience in various cities. At least there was plenty going on and a number of places that they could get drink from. It was better than the dreary boringness of the grounds at Fort Banner, which he was more than glad to put in his rearview mirror.
“I don’t agree nor disagree,” Rowe said. “I am simply taking my time to come to a decision.”
Palin snorted and started to argue his case, but Rowe spoke first.
“All I ask of you, Palin, is to consider something. What if the humans are telling the truth? What if these beings, these Outsiders, truly are the threat they say they are? I know you don’t agree, of course. But consider it a hypothetical scenario then, if you will.”
Palin’s jaw clacked as he closed his mouth, thinking over what Rowe had said. If the Outsiders were as strong as the simulator, and in the numbers General Mara and the others had said they were…
“It would be bad,” he was forced to admit. “But it doesn’t matter, because we know that they’re just trying to make us appear weak so that we feel we have to help them.”
Rowe sighed. “Let’s say you’re right, Palin.”
“I am right.”
Rowe snapped. “Oh shut up. I dislike humans as much as you do, but stop being an arrogant dick.”
Palin glared at him in the mirror.
“Like I was saying. Let’s go with your theory. The humans want us to feel we should help. My question to you is, why are they doing that if the Outsiders aren’t actually a threat? What do they want out of it?”
“That’s easy,” he said with a snort. “They want us to fight their wars. It’s not the first time they’ve asked.”
“And in the past, if we felt the cause was just, we have,” Torran said, speaking up quietly from the passenger seat.
Palin had no response to that. They had fought in any number of human wars, though only in critical missions that would help end the violence as swiftly as possible. They had never taken the field in large numbers, nor in their dragon forms. But they had been quite instrumental in a number of missions. Lately though, as the world grew and advanced, the dragons had retreated from it.
Technology was dangerous, and they did not wish to be caught on film. Another round of witch hunts was all they needed. So they retreated back into their enclave, hidden away. No one knew where it was, and Palin liked it that way. He still journeyed among the humans, but he liked being apart from them as much as possible.
The slow descent of the road stopped almost abruptly, leveling out as they entered the farmers’ fields. Fall was coming on strong, and he knew they would soon lay barren, covered in snow and frozen over until spring. For now though, the late season’s crops were growing, though he couldn’t identify one from another. Except hay. He knew what that was. He hoped.
“Even you have to admit, Palin, that humans have never asked for our help in a war they didn’t feel was just.”
It was true.
“What’s your point?”
“My point is, why are they so desperate for our help? They aren’t fighting other humans, and they aren’t fighting shifters of any sort. These beings appear to be completely nonhuman. There has to be a good reason.”
“And I’m sure there is,” he stated confidently, though inwardly he had no idea what it might be. Palin just didn’t want to consider that he might be wrong.
“I’m hungry,” Torran announced suddenly. “Really hungry.”
“I’ll find us a place to eat,” he muttered, his foot pushing down a little more on the gas pedal. The last thing he wanted was to be in a car full of hungry dragons. They got really cranky, really fast. Including himself.
“Do you think they were serious about the mate-bond thing?” Torran asked, changing the topic in an attempt to keep them all preoccupied from thinking of food.
It didn’t work. Palin was fucking hungry. His eyes darted left and right as he answered.
“No, of course not,” he answered when Rowe didn’t. “It’s preposterous. The idea that when mated we’re somehow supercharged against these creatures? Come on, Torran. That’s laughable.”
“I guess,” the green dragon shifter said, though he didn’t seem to believe himself. “The idea makes sense. The Outsiders steal a lifeforce. Ours is shielded by the love of our mate, someone we are bound to in ways even we don’t understand.”
“Just remember, this is coming from the mouths of dragons who have taken humans for mates,” Palin reminded his friend. “That should tell you everything you need to know.”
“Maybe.” Torran subsided into silence, but he didn’t sound convinced.
“There,” Rowan said, reaching up from the back and pointing to his left.
“I see it,” Palin muttered, stepping on the brake to slow them down as they approached an intersection.
On the far side of it a number of white tent-like structures had been erected, and a crude sign placed at the side of the road that read “Farmer’s Market.” There had better be food there. He pulled in at the front, stopping his car at the side of the road. He didn’t care that there was a dedicated parking lot farther up. This is where he would stay. Anyone who didn’t like that could take it up with him. If they dared.
They got out, everyone going their separate ways. With nearly two dozen tents set up, Palin knew he had to be able to find something. He let his nose guide him until he arrived at a booth filled with a barbecue and freshly grilled meat. He promptly bought two overpriced hot dogs, and, after lathering on ketchup and sautéed onions and some bits of chopped-up bacon, proceeded to eat both in two huge bites.
“I don’t suppose you sell beer either do you?” he asked the human at the counter.
The man grinned and produced a brown bottle from a nearby cooler. Palin gave him the agreed upon five, and started sipping merrily, feeling much better as the food made its way to his stomach.
He finished the beverage far too soon, handing the empty back to the farmer. Neither Torran nor Rowe were in sight. Assuming they must have found their own meals, he decided to browse some more. Perhaps there were other tasty treats to be found. His stomach, after all, would be more than willing to accept further food. He wandered through the rows of stalls. They grew progressively smaller as he walked away from the parking lot toward the other side of the market.
There was nothing appealing to him—no fresh-cooked meat—and Palin almost turned back. Something flashed pink out of the corner of his eye, catching his attention. It was hair. Dyed a soft rosy pink, it stood out. Even as he watched the owner tucked it back behind a worn black ball cap, as if trying to hide it.
Palin leaned gently against a thick metal pole holding up one of the nearby tents while he watched the owner of the hair. She was gorgeous. Beyond gorgeous. Although she wore a shapeless outfit of denim overalls and a multicolored red flannel shirt, it didn’t matter. There was just something about her. The way her sleeves were rolled up, or maybe it was the smooth jaw and thick body that spoke of being used to manual labor, but never to the point of getting hard.
She had curves underneath it all, he was positive of it. Thick, shapely lines that he craved. His eyes traveled up her body, focusing on her face. It was tough to see much more than her jaw and cheeks, the rest hidden beneath a pair of gold-colored aviator sunglasses. Palin found himself desperately wishing she would take them off. He wanted to see the eyes of the woman behind them.
“What is going on?” he hissed, stunned by his overpowered reaction to her presence. Never before had any woman had such a drastic effect on him before he even knew her.
Palin had to know her. Even her name. He stumbled forward, his eyes fixated on the wonder in front of him. The closer he got, the louder his dragon grew inside of him. It bellowed triumphantly in his head, announcing the exact last thing Palin expected to hear.
MATE!
He almost clapped his hands to his head at the victorious proclamation, his temples aching from the noise. Was this his mate? Could it really be so? He shook his head, forcing his dragon to calm. He needed to think clearly here. Rationally. Why would a female dragon be out here in a farmers market in the middle of nowhere? That made no sense.
His dragon didn’t care. It snapped angrily, telling him to go up to her and claim her. To make her his then and there under her little white tent. It wanted to rip the flannel from her body and expose it to his hands, so that he could run them along the soft curves he knew lay hidden beneath. So that his mouth might taste her repeatedly, and so that his c—
That is enough, he snarled mentally, wrenching control back from his crazed beast. He was going to meet her, and he was going to talk to her. Politely. Without scaring her and without trying to have sex with her in public. If she was his mate, she would recognize him too, and then their dragons could claim each other. Until then, manners were required.
He walked up to her, waiting patiently as the customer she was helping paid and left.
“Hi.”
Palin didn’t respond at first. He was too busy staring at her, wondering what she looked like with the sunglasses off.
“Can I help you?”
The wind picked up just then, gusting down between the rows of tents until it reached hers. There some of it swirled up against the canvas in the rear, mixing up all the smells of her crops and pulling them back to him. Mixed in with it was her scent.
He breathed in deep, relishing the flowery fragrance. It was sweet—but not overly so, just a hint—enough to bring him in deeper. He wanted more. Palin took another breath. This time he caught her scent full on. His eyes popped open. No! It couldn’t be! He had to be mistaken. But he wasn’t. It was true.
His mate was human.
Chapter Four
Sandy
“Mister?”
He didn’t respond. Nervous that he was perhaps having a heart attack, Sandy reached out and waved her hand back and forth in front of his face. Fingers like steel closed around her wrist. Though he held her arm tight, it didn’t hurt. Then something weird happened. He leaned in and…sniffed the back of her hand.
Almost immediately after that he let go. Confusion reigned supreme on his face, like he couldn’t understand something. His lips were moving, talking to himself, though the words weren’t audible.
Great. Typical that a crazy person would come stand at her booth. She looked around him to either side, desperate to see someone she knew. Anyone. Even Rusty would probably be an improvement at that point, much as she didn’t want to see her neighbor. Like, ever.
“Look, mister. I don’t want any trouble. Please, just, go somewhere else.”
The word “trouble” seemed to flare some sort of intelligence in the odd-looking green eyes, banishing the vacant stare. Eyelids blinked rapidly and he sort of shook himself awake.
“Trouble?” he asked, peering past her into the depths of her tent before turning to survey the slow-moving crowd of weekend marketgoers. “Where?”
“Uh.” She hesitated, unsure of what to say next. Not that staring way, way up at him was much better.
It was a shame that someone so attractive was crazy. Sandy wasn’t interested in men in her life anymore, bu
t she’d never stopped looking. Looking wasn’t what was dangerous. It was touching that always ended up with trouble.
“What’s the trouble? How can I help?”
Whatever had happened to him was gone, and now he seemed to be perfectly normal once more. How odd.
“The only trouble is you blocking the view of my booth to everyone,” she muttered. “I can’t sell anything if nobody can see me. And I need to sell everything.”
“Why?”
“What?”
“Why do you need to sell everything?”
Sandy, peering around him to try and let people know she was there, eyed the height-blessed stranger carefully. “Because I need to make money. To make money, I have to sell my harvest. To sell my harvest, I need people to come over to my tent. For people to come over to my tent, they have to see it first. You and your freeway-sized shoulders don’t leave much viewing room.
The man looked around, taking inventory of what she had. “Is this everything?”
“Pardon?’
“Your harvest. Is what I see everything?”
“Mostly,” she said cautiously. “I have two or three more bins in the truck, but this is the majority.”
He looked it over once more, flicked a few fingers up in the air while talking to himself, then nodded. “I’ll take it.”
“Great!” She was eager to get rid of him. The fact that he was going to buy something was even better. “What do you want? I have broccoli, cauliflower, cabbage, kale, celery, and of course apples.” There were a few other things mixed in, but in the fall that was the majority of what she had.
“All.”
“One of each? Sure.” She reached for a plastic bag to begin putting his order together. “That’ll be—”
He reached out to stop her, his hand dwarfing hers as he covered it, stilling her movement. “No.”
“No what?”
“I want it all,” he said, gesturing at everything she had on display. “I’ll bring my truck over.”
“You want everything?” she asked in disbelief.