I am Dragon (Dragon Fires Rising Book 2) by Marc Secchia (famous ebook reader TXT) 📕

≈Dragon, where is Dragon?≈

≈Sirensong, I …≈ Dragon gnashed his fangs angrily. I run out of words? Great!

Someone might have been guilty of a day-long mooching session. Now, he did not know what to do. Would Azania want him? Would she come for him? Should he go back to her, dragging his blasted overblown pride through the dirt, and make amends? What would Ariamyrielle Seaspray make of his absence? Why could he not bring himself to take wing and return? Why not be the bigger creature, the one who would bend for the sake of them both?

What a struggle. Big and physically strong he might be, but this required a kind of strength he was not sure he possessed. Dragon pushed these thoughts away.

He had not seen a single Dragon out here. One might as well be alone in the world.

Strange how rooted he felt at this location. Could this be a Dragon sense that he was meant to be right here? He did not understand. Perhaps it was somehow special or sacred to the Sea Dragons?

He waited in the surf, resting above a white, sandy ocean floor encompassed by a semicircle of vibrant reef that together with the island itself, protected this beach from all quarters. Truly, the quality of the water here was incredible. Like silk upon the scales. As if an unheard resonance communicated to his very soul – not that he was a mystical sort, but it made sense if he tried to keep logic out of the equation.

≈My wave is Sirensong! Wait! Respond!≈

Ah, he nearly jumped out of the water. When would he become used to the special thrill of those faraway voices? Grumpily, he rearranged his wings and smoothed his scales back down with anxious paws. Undeniable power, mind. How big were Sea Dragons?

≈My wave is Dragon! I will wait! Respond!≈

≈We’re coming faster. Wait.≈

≈Waiting.≈

The following evening at the same time, they repeated the exact same exchange. Word for word.

Next night came the same phrasing again – he had to lurk beneath a pounding storm, but as always in the depths, there was calm unthinkable at the surface level.

Again.

Crazy how he slept so badly, missing a tiny person breathing in his paw. Her voice. Her light footstep, laughter and joy in life. When had that happened? Dragon spent his days hunting and exploring the waters around the talons, getting to know their scent and flow and moods, until as the suns dipped toward the horizon, he would return to the point and wait for the Sea Dragons to communicate. Each time, the conversation was noticeably faster as they closed the distance toward the Archipelago. This evening was the fastest yet, just above an hour. What a feat of physical endurance and power! He estimated that they must be covering close to two hundred and fifty miles a day.

No Dragon of the air could cover that distance day after day after day.

The longer he tarried, the harder it became to contemplate a return. Especially since his dam was so close. Delays on the repetitious exchange were down to less than forty minutes now.

Joy swelled in his breast, uncontainable.

Imprinting.

The word popped into his mind. Were they making a verbal bond – was that the point of these exchanges? ≈We’re coming faster.≈ Was this because of him? If a certain pedantic Dragon dared to estimate their time of arrival now, they must surely arrive within ten days of when he had first heard from the Sea Dragons, rather than the promised two weeks. Perhaps they had caught a beneficial current? Or … could it be because of him?

His body glowed unceasingly now, as if Sirensong’s melody or the wider melody of the pod burned within him, giving rise to white fires that somehow seethed beneath his scales. He was his own light beneath the waters in the evenings. The fish certainly thought he was amazing.

The day that the communication returned in a mere twenty-two minutes, Dragon surfaced to find Princess Azania standing upon his favourite boulder, the very last in the Archipelago.

As if a fist had gripped his hearts, sweet pain spread inside his chest.

No sign of Aria.

She knelt, and then bowed her head to the rock with her arms outstretched. He gazed at the top of her curls in consternation. What was that supposed to mean? Best guess – a formal apology or appeal for mercy in a desert style. Stirring the water with his wings, he scrambled up beside her and reached out a paw to clasp her shaking shoulders. Only the slightest hesitation on his part.

“Precious Princess, I –”

“Dragon, will you ever forgive me?”

He said gruffly, “You certainly came a ways to find me. It’s been quiet out here.”

“I’m sorry if I’m disturbing – oof,” she complained as he drew her against the side of his neck with his paw. Big, big, big hug! With a chuckle that betrayed enormous relief, her arms tightened about his muzzle. “I see how it is.”

“Do you? I meant to say how terribly I missed your incessant whinging.”

“I missed your snoring like an earthquake.”

“At least I smell like a Dragon now, and not some girly perfume.”

“Ah, that macho whiff?”

“Much-o whiff,” he agreed.

She rubbed the scales near his eye gently. “I’m so, so sorry I lost my rag with you. How’s my renegade Dragon been? I guess I didn’t expect you to actually do what I asked. Ordered. Screamed at you – ugh! You took some finding, you know. We went in totally the wrong direction to start with. It was only after the Rangers uncovered a story of a capsized family you rescued, that we began to suspect where you might have gone. Then, we tracked you by your light.”

“My light?”

“The Dragonesses observed an unusual