Page 32 of Jhon
“They are designed and prepared to clean the most delicate biological skins and pelts without irritation,” he told her. “Terrans are sturdier than many. You’ll be just fine.”
“Thank you,” she told him with feeling.
He nodded and headed back out of her suite into the hallway, feeling like he was leaving his heart behind him.
She cannot be my mate, he reminded himself.
But inside, the dragon only chuckled.
13
JHON
Jhon stayed in the hallway for what felt like forever.
He was supposed to be listening for Bo, watching over him.
But the truth of the matter was that with his heightened senses, he would have ample warning of any danger.
He was really listening for Ella, and watching over her.
The look in her eyes when he offered the refresher concerned him.
She is ours and we are hers, the dragon whispered. Claim her, so that we may comfort her.
He ignored it, and kept watch over the door to her rooms.
At last, the sound of the refresher stopped, and he could sense her padding out of that space and into the bedroom.
After a moment, small sounds of sadness wafted to his ears. Sounds so small that without the dragon’s help, he wouldn’t have heard them. The sounds of someone trying hard not to make a sound.
“Ella?” he called to her softly.
But she didn’t answer.
A thousand fears crowded his mind in an instant. Was she hurt? Had a hawkmouse slipped into the house and bitten her? They were tiny, but their venom was among the most painful in the system to endure.
“Ella, I’m coming in,” he announced, knocking one more time.
“Come in—” she began.
But he had already opened the door.
She sat on the edge of the bed wearing a thin robe, and looking completely dejected.
“Ella,” he said softly, coming to kneel in front of her and trying to ignore the slight translucence of the robe and the delicious scent of warm, clean woman that clung to her. “What’s wrong?”
“It doesn’t feel fair,” she said quietly.
“Fair to who?” he asked, completely confused.
“Back home, our town was basically a swamp,” she said, lifting her head, but still looking down at her hands. “I’m the oldest of nine kids in the family. And there’s never enough - never enough to eat, never enough fuel to warm ourselves. My parents work themselves to the bone, but it’s hard there, especially with so many mouths to feed. A person like me doesn’t deserve all this.”
His heart constricted as he watched her look helplessly around the room.
“What do you mean a person like me?” he asked.
“When the local creche flooded, I left school to stay home with my baby sister,” she told him, looking down at her hands. “I don’t even have the basic educational certificate.”