Page 17 of Taught By the Dragon
And bloody hell, he hoped not. Even if she could get past his missing lower leg or the fact he had a daughter not much younger than she was, Percy was far too young—and damaged. She deserved someone her own age who could protect her, be there for her, and wasn’t her true mate. Anyone who turned out to be her true mate would make her life hell because once they kissed her, it would kick off a mate-claim frenzy.
The last thing Percy needed was someone fucking her roughly and continuously, which would probably trigger unwanted memories.
No, she needed to be healed, taught how to embrace her dragon, and learn what it was to be a dragon-shifter. Maybe she’d find someone to care for, and maybe she wouldn’t.
However, it wouldn’t be him. Ever. Bronx refused to fail another mate, which meant never taking one again.
ChapterSeven
Something poked at Percy as she imagined flying through the clouds. She was a human, though, and not a dragon soaring through the air. But she didn’t care. The breeze felt amazing, and she was so far up that everything below was tiny.
Up in the air, no one could hurt her, control her, or even bully her. No, she was alone.
Maybe too alone, because even in her dream, she yearned for that dragon she’d known briefly, the one who’d always had her back and had cared about her. The only one to ever do so.
Something nudged at her, but she ignored it, not wanting her flight to end. But the nudging continued over and over again, as if someone were repeatedly poking her head.
Eventually, the sky faded and turned dark, almost pitch-black. The only light was in the distance—a purple glow coming from who knew where. She wanted to follow the light, and yet her instincts said not to yet. Pain, struggle, and the total loss of freedom waited at the end of that road.
Wanting away from the temptation, she opened her eyes. It took a second for her to recognize the room, the same dark-wood and dark-blue accents from earlier.
She was in the cabin where Bronx, Violet, Melanie, and Tristan had played games.
Percy tried to sit up, but her arms wouldn’t go where she wanted. Looking down, she saw cuffs. While they were padded and less painful than the metal ones she’d often worn in the facility, they still held firm when she tugged against the small chains.
She growled, “What the fuck?”
A female with some accent she didn’t recognize spoke up. “Aye, I know it’s a bother and probably the last thing you want, but you nearly scratched your face off, lassie.”
She met the female’s gaze, her pupils flashing to slits once before remaining round. The dragonwoman had dark hair, brown eyes, and light-brown skin. “Who’re you?”
The stranger smiled, and somehow, it made Percy feel a little better. “I’m Dr. Layla McFarland, from Clan Lochguard in Scotland. But there are far too many doctors around here, aye? So just call me Layla.”
Percy tugged at the restraints again. “Well, Layla, take these off.”
The doctor shook her head. “Not yet. I need you to tell me what you remember from yesterday morning, then I’ll release you.”
She frowned and echoed, “Yesterday morning?”
“Aye. You’ve slept a little more than a day, and it’s no doubt done you good. But back to my question: what do you remember?”
Percy kept tugging at her restraints—not hard enough to hurt herself, but as if the action helped her to focus—and searched her brain.
Now that she thought about it, her cheeks and the sides of her face were sore and overly warm. Not only that, but the tips of her fingers throbbed, as if something were stuck under her nails. Looking down, sure enough, she saw some of her fingernails had blood under them. “I don’t remember anything beyond looking at the moon, late at night. I fell asleep after that.”
Layla sat forward, bracing her elbows on her knees. “What about now? Is there any sort of presence in your head? Or a pressure building, as if trying to burst?”
She eyed the older female. Doctors had never been Percy’s friends. Something about Layla’s eyes and manner made her different from all the fuckers inside the testing facility, though, almost as if she didn’t look at Percy like a thing but rather a person, one who had opinions and feelings.
Don’t. Just don’t.The last thing Percy needed was to lower her guard and think anyone gave a shit about her. That path had caused pain in the past, and she was too old to fall for it again. “Why should I tell you?”
Layla tapped her fingertips together. “Aye, why should you? I’m not even from Stonefire, where you might want to make a good impression. However, I came all this way, leaving my two bairns with my mate and mother-in-law, so I could help the lot of you. I want all of you to recover, be free, and never have to worry about some fake doctor abusing you. I’m not sure how to convince you of that, though. So I’m open to suggestions.”
She should keep her bloody mouth shut, but she blurted, “Bairns? What’s that?”
Layla smiled. “Oh, aye, Sid said you might not understand some Scottish terms. It means baby, or small child, I suppose. Although some parents will refer to their children as bairns even when they’re older. At any rate, I have twin boys.” She took out her mobile phone, punched something, and held it out to Percy. “Have a look for yourself.”
The two small sleeping babies—one had dark hair and the other blond—each clutched some sort of toy dragon in their arms. Sleeping next to them was a full-grown male, his arm protectively curled around the two children.
