“Ember!”
A dark-haired, naked human raced up to her, dropping to his knees beside the scaly neck. “Ember,” Riley said again, putting a hand on her side. “Can you hear me? What happened? Are you—?”
He stopped, his face going pale. I limped up beside him just as he pulled his hand back, the palm and fingers covered in red, and my heart stood still.
“Oh, no.” His voice was a whisper, and he surged to his feet, glaring back at the van. “Wes!” he yelled. “Ember’s been shot. Help me get her in the van before St. George catches up.”
“Bloody hell.” The shaggy-haired human raced around the van, pausing to throw open the back doors. “I knew this was a bad idea, Riley. I knew the stubborn brat was going to get us all killed.”
“Shut up and help before I rip off your legs and leave you for St. George.”
“I’ll help,” I broke in, and he turned to glare daggers at me. Without waiting for an answer, I stepped around the unconscious dragon and knelt beside her, sliding my arm beneath a scaly foreleg. Ember stirred weakly, her claws raking the sand once, but she didn’t wake up. Riley hesitated, then crouched on the opposite side, taking her leg.
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