Forced To Kill The Prince

by Hollie Hutchins

  We both fall down onto the bed, exhausted and sweaty. I never thought could be so hot inside of a glacier. But as the adrenaline leaves my body, the passion wears off, I feel dizzy. The room starts spinning and my eyelids feel heavy. I close my eyes and my mind drifts away.

  By the time I wake up, I’m not in the glacier. I can smell Juquo but I can’t seem him. My body feels heavy. I’m tired and hungry. Hungry doesn’t even begin to describe the pangs bending and folding through my torso. I croon into the night and that’s when I hear it, feel it. The guttural treble in my voice. Words unable to come out. I can even smell the cubs nearby. My hearing is sensational. The crispness of the ice even hits me like I just swilled mouthwash.

  Inhaling deep, I try to narrow my vision and all I can see are trees. The path is hazy. Everything is swirling again. And just as I think I’m about to pass out I see Juquo walking towards me. His hands are in the air as if he’s surrendering. His words are coming in mottled but the harder I concentrate, the clearer his voice is. I can see the scratches across his chest. They’re healing but they look jagged. His eyes are wide, fearful, worry, I can’t be sure.

  Juquo calls out to me, “If you can understand me, I need you to bow your head. Don’t try to speak my Blissa.”

  I try and when nothing but a muffled roar erupts from my lips, panic washes over me. I cry, whine, and nothing. It doesn’t sound like me. My voice is hiding behind the snarl of a beast.

  “Blissa please you must calm down,” Ooma says from behind me. Turning around as she startles me, I see her but the old woman doesn’t look quite the same. Her bear is white but the sun reveals flecks of grey and silver in her coat. I don’t understand.

  “Listen to me sweetheart,” she tells me but her mouth isn’t moving. “I can speak to your thoughts, and you can speak to mine. Being bitten by the alpha, our king, gives us this unique ability. If you calm down, you can listen to him. Listen to your king.”

  Turning back to Juquo, he’s even closer than before. He’s so close to me I can smell his musk, his scent so alluring I can barely control myself. So I lick him.

  My tongue tickling his torso brings a smile to his face and finally he tries speaking to me again, “If you can understand me, bow your head.”

  Calming down, I don’t try to speak this time. I simply bow my head and wait for the next set of instructions. His hands are grazing through my fur.... I still have a hard time believing it; saying it. But it feels good, soothing as he runs his fingers against my skin.

  “You can change back at any time,” he tells me. “Just concentrate. Breathe. Take a deep breath, as deep as you can and think about you. Your beautiful almond shaped eyes. Those big beautiful brown eyes that you love to stare at me with. Your long black hair. It drips like a waterfall down your back, straight, until it’s wrapped around my hand. Your slender body that has yielded a magnificently strong and assertive bear. There’s a strength inside of you because of how much Blissa cares about us bears. We need her here. Help bring Blissa back to me.”

  I want to cry but instead I focus all of my energy on changing back. There’s a violent uproar inside of me, turmoil as my bear isn’t quite ready to go away. I imagine it’s the first time my human side and bear have been on the same mental wavelength since my change. It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay.

  With my body shaking like a leaf, I shrink out of my strong polar bear and sit on the forest floor. Ooma smiles at me from her familiarly weathered face. Juquo sits down in front of me. A hug first and then a tender kiss on my lips.

  I run my fingers around the scratches on his chest and guilt tears through me like a hot knife through butter. With tears in my eyes, I gaze into those green ones of his, begging for his honesty, “I did this to you didn’t I?”

  “Don’t feel guilty,” he tells me. “It’s very hard to take on the shift from what you were into who you are right now. All of your emotions are tripled. Your senses are heightened. Your life will belong to both worlds and it’s a difficult transition for anyone.”

  “How many people survive?”

  Ooma steps around for me to see her squinty eyes, “Many survive. However, it’s the psychological aspects that give people the most trouble. You my dear, have taken to your bear quite lovely, but she tries to keep your human side dormant. It’s understandable in the beginning, but you’ve been in your bear for the last week or so. I’m glad to see you finally gaining control. Now the both of you must come. The announcement must be made now that you’re able to control your, um, better half.”

  “Well I’ve always had control over Juquo, it’s my bear that needs working on,” I joke.

  They both look to each other before staring at me and bursting into laughter. Juquo rises from the ground, holding his hand out to help me up. We stroll hand in hand back toward the entrance of the glacier where everyone is waiting outside. There are expressions of fear, worry, and even disdain on their faces.

  “Everyone inside. It’s time,” Juquo says as we wait for the clan to file into the large open room. Just before we walk in, he turns to me, “Remember who you are, inside and out. Remember who’s mate you are. I belong to you and you to me. It’s important that they see and feel that from you. Okay?”

  “Yes, Juquo,” I tell him with pride.

  Inside the glacier, they all wait patiently for Juquo, for us. I can see the admiration in their eyes as Juquo stands in front of everyone with his fingers laced between mine.

  He tells them, “It has been a long time for me without a spouse, a mate. With the passing of my sister Alkina, and her mate Borja not too long after she was taken, it has been shown to me that no love can be greater than that received by one’s soulmate. We should cherish that love should we be lucky enough to find it in any lifetime. So I announce to you all that I have found that love. She is marked. She is one of us. She is my spouse. She is my mate, soul, spirit, in this life and the next. I should be so lucky to have her by my side, but more importantly all of you should be so lucky to have her here amongst us. I give you Blissa, our new Bear Queen.”

  Sold To The Vicious Dragons

  ~ Bonus Story ~

  A Dragon Shifter Menage Romance

  The dragons clash to win me. My whole family is prepared to sell me. And I'm left with the most vicious fighter of all...

  Of course I didn't want to be sold. But I had no choice in the matter. Princesses in the kingdom of Provosia have been sold to the dragons for just over half a century. It's part of the agreement we have. Every woman in the royal family who reaches her eighteenth birthday will be taken by a dragon.

  None of them return. I don't know why. I expect I'll be killed. And when I'm taken by the most savage fighter out of all of them, I'm deposited in Ash's lair.

  And he whispers in my ear that I'm his property, for him to do as he wishes.

  There's nowhere for me to run. I'm on a mountain in the middle of a swamp. I'm no survivalist. I'm a princess who has been pampered her whole life.

  What I don't expect... is that fact that Ash has a lover. Another dragon, by the name of Garion.

  And I think both of them plan to use me.

  * * *

  Chapter One

  I stare down at the arena. My heart pulses in both fear and anger. Shaded from the midday sun by the awnings over my tower, I take a sip of water, trying to hide my shaking arms as best as I can.

  Filling up the coliseum are a cheering and screaming crowd as two dragons circle one another. Two huge, jaw snapping, limb tearing lizards each about tall as a house, slashing at one another for points in this stupid tournament.

  The tournament my father plans to sell me off to.

  I come from the kingdom of Provosia. Our wonderful and enlightened kingdom at some point in its less wonderful and sordid past struck up an alliance with the beasts that plagued it. The dragons who raided our villages, burned down our towns and kidnapped our princesses. In exchange for a disgustingly huge amount of treasure from the dragons, every
princess born into the family dynasty would be offered to the dragons on her eighteenth birthday.

  For some reason, the dragons loved this offer, and added to it. They asked that a great duelling competition be held, and the winner of said competition would crown the princess and take her for his own.

  Fast forward to five hundred years later, and the tradition's going strong. Provosia is one of the most prosperous kingdoms of the Wetlands, all for the simple cost of sacrificing every princess born into the royal family.

  I've been brought up to this. Brought up to believe that my sole purpose in life is to become the bridal slave of a dragon.

  And all I can think of, is how much I fucking hate my parents right now. I sit here in my dark pink dress, with my black hair tumbling down past my shoulders, staring down at the dragons who fight – and the thought of being a bride to one of those things makes me angry.

  “Princess Alera,” a servant says, coming up to me with that irritating, timid way all servants do, as if they're afraid one misstep will get them reprimanded and executed. “Are you quite well? Would you like refreshments? Drink?”

  “A drink will do,” I say, dismissing her. I don't want to talk to anyone for longer than necessary right now.

  My father and mother watch from another tower, and their servants use fans to waft cool air onto them. Another serves drinks. My oldest brother, the next in line to inherit the throne, also shares the box. He's in earnest conversation with a young lady. A royal from another kingdom, whom my parents hope to secure a marriage with.

  They do this, even as I'm sold off to these beasts.

  “It's a fine tradition, Alera,” my father said, when I threw a tantrum because of not wanting to marry a monster. “People like you is what protects our kingdom from dragon attacks, and allows it to prosper. And you should be proud to marry such a fearsome, strong creature. They can shift into humans, too. It won't be so bad...”

  He doesn't have to marry a dragon, though. If we ignore the fact that my mother has certain dragonish traits. He didn't have to celebrate his eighteenth birthday by sitting in a tower, watching monsters fight for his hand. The winner would whisk me away, take me to his lair, and have his wicked way with me. I'd vanish from the castle forever, and my family, even though they tell me I'm doing a wonderful thing – will assume I'm dead.

  Yeah. I've done my research. None of the princesses have ever returned.

  The servant comes back with a drink, and I grab it from her. I'm tempted to splash it in her face, but bite back on the cruel impulse. I'd only do it because I'm so frustrated with what's happening, so helpless with the way my fate is drawn out.

  If only I could have married a prince. That was all I wanted. To be a princess, marry a prince, and maybe one day become queen of a nice, small kingdom somewhere, away from the insanity of my family.

  The beasts clash below in a scream and scrabble of tooth and claws, and a victor is called. He'll be in the final rounds – a huge, red scaled beast with smoldering orange eyes. The crowd's an eclectic a mix of humans and dragons, and they roar. Most of the crowd are dragons in their human forms, and they sit in a separate area from the humans.

  I watch as servants deliver refreshments to the waiting crowds, and sand kick up from the coliseum arena. The referee stands in the middle of the grounds as the next duellists come. One is a fearsome black dragon, bigger than anything I've ever seen. The other is a steel gray, smaller, but longer.

  When the fight begins, I completely expect the black one to crush the gray. However, the gray fights with a frightening ferocity – the kind that makes me worry. The black dragon for all his great size, is simply unable to deal with the storm that is the gray, as he snaps, wrestles and drags the black into submission within moments. The crowd cheering is a little subdued, because the fight is ugly, not entertaining at all.

  People want a show. Not a brutal beat-down. I stare at my white gloved hands. I'm unable to hide all of the tremors, but people shouldn't notice from their distances.

  Everyone thinks I'm doing something wonderful and honorable. The commoners are excited, because they know that whenever a princess is sold, they will feast like kings for a year.

  My eyes follow the gray dragon with unease. Like all dragons, he has a long, serpentine neck, huge wings sticking from his back like pennants, and four thick limbs that cause the ground to shake if he starts running. He shifts into his human form, along with the black dragon, and they clear away, making room for the next competitors to come along.

  I want to weep. But I've been bred to not show my emotions like that, to act like some silly girl who would cry at the drop of a hat. Instead, I gnash my teeth in an undignified way. Why can't my family make an exception to the rule? And why do they turn a deaf ear to my pleas? They always act happy when it looks like I'm going along, but really, I'm trying to figure out ways to somehow stop the capturing from happening. I get that they can't risk aggravating the dragons, given that these beasts have the power to annihilate us. I also get that maybe my father is too cowardly to even risk suggesting to them that maybe he can keep one daughter. Although since I'm the only daughter born to Provosia for a long time, the dragons are likely putting pressure on him as well.

  I hate that I can understand the logic behind it. Though it does leave one option left. Training myself to be prepared for the outcome. Granted, the training hasn't gone great. I don't seem to have a decent grasp of magic. Can't even shoot off a simple fire spell, which “any idiot mage can do,” as according to the mage tutor in my father's castle. I went to the dark fairy in the woods, even though people told me not to. The dark fairy offers a blessing and a curse, and usually, her curses are mild, odd annoyances, so I figured I'd give it a try. The dark fairy, however, was nowhere to be seen. I think she was there, watching me, but didn't feel particularly obliged to make herself known. Possibly she was bribed by my father somehow, who knew that having a wish granting fairy in the forest might be awkward if I developed any notions to go to her.

  I guess there isn't a magical solution to my problem, though it wasn't for want of trying. I also tried practising sword-fighting for a short while, before my mother put an end to the lessons, declaring that sword-fighting is “unprincesslike.”

  Which leaves me in this tower today, dressed up in a dark pink gown – about the only act of rebellion I could pull off, since my father and mother wanted me to wear the traditional bridal white. Fuck them. If I'm going to be taken, I'll go as myself.

  I squint at the man who can transform into the gray dragon. It's hard to see features from here, but I do pick out that his hair is gray like the color of his beast. An old man? Not that I think dragons age in the same way. Great. The gray one acts ferocious enough to win. I see he has a beard as well, a gray beard, gray mustache, which appear neatly trimmed. I don't see his eye color, though I suppose he looks attractive from here. All the dragons do, actually. Probably because they get to choose what their human form appears like. One has vibrant blue hair, and a blue mustache. So they have the same hair colors as their dragon forms.

  I continue watching, and fidgeting. There's guards at the bottom of my tower, and people watching the sky in case I get on a magic carpet or something and attempt to fly away.

  Idly flicking at my red hair, I prepare myself for the worst. That is, knowing there's nothing I can do to stop this from happening.

  I have no idea what it'll be like to live with a dragon. I don't know their culture, if they even have one, or if they're just savages who have a good deal here. All I know is that dragons are obsessed with princesses, and obviously can communicate with one another if they turn up at the coliseum to duel.

  The gray haired dragon stares up at me. I don't know what expression he's wearing, but I don't think I'll like it. Averting my gaze, I clasp my hands tighter on the folds of the pink dress, until the knuckles turn white.

  It's happening. It's really happening. All those years of protest, of trying to find a way out of it, a
nd I'm still here. I even ran away about six times. Always got caught and returned. I may as well have iron shackles on my wrists right now. I'm not a princess, as so much a trapped bird in a golden cage.

  I close my eyes, listening to the ululations of the crowd, not wanting to watch the spectacle below anymore. Not wanting anything to do with it. A servant speaks to me at one point, murmuring my name, but I pretend to be asleep. They're too timid to consider poking me, though no doubt my father will send someone to tell me to at least look like I'm interested. The crowd acts as my sounding bored, roaring when something's impressing them, booing when it's not.

  My eyes snap open when I hear the referee announce the final combatants. The winner is the one who will have me.

  I don't get dragon duelling, honestly. It looks to me like two huge beasts smashing against one another, but apparently they have fighting forms, and rules in the duelling itself. The gray monster's there, fighting a golden colored one. I don't care about the winner, either will be something undesirable, but I lean forward to watch anyway.

  Again, the golden one appears to be larger than his opponent. The gray one has a wily swiftness to his motions, more serpentine and fluid than his opponent. But his opponent stands like a tank. I watch the fight, and it looks like they're both testing one another out, giving a good, lasting bout, lashing tails, smacking arms and legs, and using their necks for lunges.