by Lucas, Naomi
“Are…are you okay?” she asks hesitantly and—and I understand her! Her words make sense. I spoke her language in fury when I transformed. Human. The entirety of her words and meaning are clear to me.
I try to answer, but my lips do not move. My tongue remains stiff.
I try to speak again. Nothing. My frustration builds. I wait for her to do something more, to please my ears with the sound of her voice, but she does not.
She waits for my response.
Skies!
I am at her mercy, at the mercy of everything in this world. She could easily leave, or kill me—anything could happen at this point. I need her to survive. I have never needed another being after my mother and sire reared me. Part of me wants to lash out, to bellow at this sudden weakness.
Worse yet, her hands have not moved. The spots where they lie are now burning me with the contact. I want them to move, need them to move. It is agony, not being able to take what I want, to force her into action. I moan as compellment.
“Dragon man?” she says with frustrating hesitancy.
Dragon man? I scoff. So she knows of the dragon’s bane. She knows what she has turned me into. A small bit of anger needles me. But her voice is melodious and strong, and takes away my anger.
If this female can brave the wilds and survive, she must be strong. Why do I care what she calls me?
Her hands shift on my skin, and all other cares vanish. They move from my side to slide onto my belly, warm and curious. They do not linger but move up and over my chest, testing every inch of my exposed flesh. They press lightly into me as if they are exploring something new… or checking for wounds. As they move, I try to strain my muscles beneath them, testing them for the same reasons.
There is no pain. Not anymore. Not except for my throbbing shaft.
And like warm, soothing feathers, the female’s fingers continue up and down my arms, doing the same as they did with my chest. I learn my new form from her and find that I am fit and built. I also discover that not all of my scales are gone, as there are places her warmth fades and my body is rigid and not surrendering to her prodding.
My mind reels from sensation. The last creature to touch me did so in hopes to kill me. This is different, unexpected.
Even enjoyable.
The female’s hands are soft, yet wary, like she does not want to hurt me. They end up on my face, where they explore my features. Her fingers trace my jaw, my lips—which causes my shaft to twitch—and up my human nose. They whisper across my cheeks to trace around my eyes, but stop when they reach my brow.
My dark jewel.
I still have it?
Pride and relief infuse me. Dark dragons, since they are not born of natural elements, create a central piece to draw strength from. My jewel formed when I was a young dragonling, starving for darkness to nourish me.
The female examines it, making me shiver. Pleasure stokes my lust and my need to mate grows.
Then I see her.
Her form is blurred in the impermeable darkness my body has created. I can only make out some of her features, and my eyes trail across them as curiously as her hands on me.
She is dirty. There are smudges of dust from the cave-in all over her skin. I inhale again, searching for the scent of blood through the heady aroma of her natural scent, and find it. I do not like that I smell it, finding I am worried for her—and that perturbs me further. I should not care whether she is hurt or not, but I do.
My fingers shake. I care. A lot.
She is moving. She cannot be hurt that badly. The thought does not give me comfort.
I search her face and what I can see of her body, but I do not see the wound. Wherever it is, it is hidden from me. My eyes retreat to her face, and this time, I take the time to study it.
I have never been this close to a human before. In my prime, I saw them from afar, peering down at them from the skies. They ran and screamed as I burned down their villages. Despite my mischief, I have never been close enough to discern the delicacies of their features.
Though the darkness stole the human’s coloring, I can tell she has dark eyes and dark hair, which is long, straight, and pulled away from her face to hang in a messy cinch over her shoulder. Long enough that if it were not tied back, it would be flooding over me, tickling my skin. There are things in her hair as well—feathers perhaps? Or shells? I cannot be certain at my angle.
She is wearing coverings over her chest. Leather, I assume. Animal hide? But perhaps sewn grass. It reminds me how frail humans are and that I lack my own coverings.
There are bands on her arms and wrists, and what I suspect are weapons attached to her body. Beneath them, her body appears smooth and healthy.
Except for the blood I smell.
Her eyes stare aimlessly into the dark, and I enjoy the fact that she cannot see me studying her. But many of her features remain distorted despite my ability.
I discover something odd… I wish to see more.
I am forever bonded to this creature, I remind myself. Any intelligent being would be curious to know more, to learn who they are chained to.
The female’s fingers leave my jewel and discover my horns. Horns! I am also thrilled to have retained these. Horns that I will use to protect us.
My desire to take her and mate catapults inside me. Blood rushes to my loins, becoming excruciating.
I hear her gasp, and it burns. Her hands pull away from me, and I miss their touch immediately.
What I would do if I could move… Take her hands and place them back on me. No… I would do more than that. I would pull her into my arms, bury my nose to her neck, and cover her body with mine.
I practically pant at the thought.
Her breathing labors to match my thundering heart, and I know she is as affected by the bond as I am. I can feel her want for me echo back.
Thankfully, her hands return to my body to probe at my chest. Pleasure jolts me, but her fingers do not remain there long. They are moving down, down, down… They reach my pelvis, and I hold my breath. My shaft rests hard and ready on my thigh. Her fingers slow but stay away from my root, frustrating me. They brush against it—stars fill my vision—but they jerk away and move down my thighs.
And then they are gone, down my legs, searching for wounds I know are not there. Torture and bliss all at once. I vow to make her feel the same once I am free of this poisonous trap… A growl escapes my lips, though it comes out as another groan.
Her perusal ends at my feet, but then grows strangely wild when she finds one of my tails. She finds the other one soon after.
They are limp in her hand.
She finally lifts her hands from me, and this time, does not return them, but at least she moves back up that I may view her again. She gazes into the void, unseeing. She brings her hands to her lips, where she cups them together.
I wait for her next move, curious what she will do.
“I’m going to try and find something to start a fire with,” she whispers. Her hands drop to her sides. “Don’t… don’t move. I’ll be back soon.”
Fire? Unease niggles me. I should be the one to take care of my mate. That is the dragon’s way. Not this.
But she is already gone, removed from my sight.
I want to tell her not to go, that I will not be down long, but the words do not come out.
And I am left with the unsettling scent of her blood in my nostrils and the quiet noises she makes as she moves through my cave… farther and farther away from me.
8
Trapped
It doesn’t take me long to find what I need for a fire. Luckily, I discovered broken roots that had fallen with the cave’s roof. I don’t expect they’ll burn well, but I’m excited to have light again soon.
Because I need to see the dragon male. There’s an image in my mind of a fiend, and it frightens me. A creature with multiple tails and horns. I don’t know what to make of his forehead. I know he’s a human male, but my imagination runs wild�
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Gathering a cluster of roots, I pick one out to light and set the remainder aside. I pull off my satchel and search for my fire moss and flint. After rubbing the fire moss on the end of the root, I take out my dagger and cut off a little bit of my hair for kindling. It takes several tries, but I manage to start a small flame. Wrinkling my nose, I grab the root and stick it into my kindling. It blazes to life.
Golden light casts around me. I can see again! I could cry for such a small miracle.
Blinking several times, my eyes adjust, and I hold up my makeshift torch and peer around me. All I see is rocks, debris, and darkness.
Not wanting to waste time, I gather my things and look for the dragon man again.
When I hear a raspy moan. I head in that direction. Thank the waters I don’t have to stumble about in search of him…
He’s hurt. He has to be. Why else hasn’t he risen? I didn’t find a wound, but that doesn’t mean there wasn’t one. It reminds me of my wound. My fingers twitch to check on it. I’ll need another dose of Mermaid’s Breath soon. I’m weakening.
The dragon male’s body comes into view. He sparkles where my light reaches him, purple and glassy black. Brilliant and breathtaking. My eyes widen. My jaw drops. If I didn’t already know he was once the giant dragon, I would now. His scales are unmistakable.
I move to him and drop to my knees. A blush rises to my cheeks. My head clouds when I scent him.
He’s… I swallow. He’s beautiful.
Dark and—I lick my lips as my eyes trail over his body—unlike anything in Venys.
I see his hard prick and quickly glance away. And naked. He’s naked and primed. I suck in my stomach. I will my lust away, but it builds instead. Closing my eyes hard, I force myself to remember the situation we’re in. That we’re both hurt. That we don’t even know each other. It doesn’t work—I’m still lustful—but I reopen my eyes and manage to focus on creating a fire anyway.
I don’t know how hurt he is. I can’t waste time.
Piling the roots I gathered, I sprinkle fire moss over them and ignite them. The cave opens to my view as the flames roar upward. Soothing heat blankets my skin, and I sigh in satisfaction.
“I hope this helps,” I say, turning to the male. I don’t know if he’s awake enough to hear me or if he even understands, but I say it anyway. Pulling off my satchel, I shuffle to his side. Now with more light, I can see him clearly.
He’s got two sets of horns, that’s for sure, and a jewel embedded on his brow. Frowning, I notice wisps of black smoke rising from it, like it had when he was still in his true form. I recall the glassy feel from when I’d searched him for injuries, but I don’t know what the jewel is to him or why it is there. I want to touch it again but decide not to. It may hurt him, or me.
He’s got unkempt ebony hair that’s long enough to pool on the ground around his head. I dare to brush my fingers over him and move several strands from his face. My fingers flutter over his horns—there are four—but drop soon after.
My eyes dip.
Lo and behold, he does have two tails. They’re lax at his side next to my knees, but they’re under him and lifting his hips off the floor. That can’t be comfortable. But there’s nothing I can do about it right now. I won’t move him until I know what’s wrong with him.
Setting my torch on the far side of him, I sit back and straighten.
“I can see now,” I tell him. “I’m going to touch you again to see what’s wrong.”
I check his face for a response, but there isn’t one, not even a groan. His eyes are closed, but I could have sworn they were open earlier, when my fingers traced his face. I shake my head.
“I’ll try not to hurt you,” I add.
Carefully, I shift my hands under his head, sliding my fingers through his hair. It’s silken and so fine that I’m temporarily distracted by the feel of it. I suck in my stomach and force myself to move on.
Pressing into his skull, I feel for a wound like mine but find none. I remove my hands.
I was certain he hit his head. It had to be his head, right? If he’s unconscious?
He’s warm to the touch, and his chest rises and falls, so I know he’s alive, just not responding.
“Dragon?” I ask hesitantly.
Again, he doesn’t respond.
He’s unconscious. Has to be. Which doesn’t bode well for us if he remains this way for long. There’s nothing wanting to eat us right now, but that doesn’t mean it’ll stay that way. I look around.
We’ll have to spend the night here… Assuming it’s night. I turn back around, facing where I believe the ledge once was. I need to see if the opening still exists.
I can’t put it off forever.
Turning back to the dragon, I reach over and take hold of my torch. “I need to leave again, scout for a way out and make sure we’re safe. I’ll be back soon.” I don’t want to leave him, but I rise anyway.
He groans.
I frown. So he is awake? Is he faking? Something tells me he’s not…
“I promise I’ll be right back,” I whisper. “I won’t leave you. I won’t be going far.”
When I step away, no groan stops me.
Brandishing my torch, I head into the cavern and make my way toward the nearest wall. It’s different than before—which I already knew—with dust and dirt everywhere. When I come across the larger boulders, I’m thankful none of them hit Haime or me… or the male now in my care.
What am I going to do about him?
We can’t stay here. I don’t have the strength to move him. It’s dangerous beyond measure, staying here. The naga boy is gone, but where did he go and who was he with? Besides, I hate being confined in enclosed spaces. If I need to run, I don’t like worrying about not having an exit.
I can’t leave him. Not while he’s so defenseless. He’s a male, a humanoid male now, which makes him extremely precious—incredibly rare. And not only that, he’s mine now. We’re linked. Even now, the bond between us is growing stronger, and I sense… My brow creases. I sense a heaviness inside me. It wants me to stop moving. My muscles are stiff when my mind lingers on it.
There’s something inside him that shouldn’t be there.
I don’t know how I know it, but I do. I clench my fingers then loosen them, fighting off the stiffness.
I need to find Haime, I realize with an uncomfortable jolt. Need to know if she needs me, if she’s safe. A fresh wave of tiredness washes me and a niggling of fear threatens to worm its way in. She’s safe. I have to believe it. She made it out, and the way is clear…
She’s probably already back at the tribe, and help is on the way.
I come to the wall, and this time it doesn’t take me long to find the ledge. Placing my torch on top of it, I grip it and jump, using my momentum to haul myself up. Stars shoot over my vision as I drop onto my back and rest for a moment. I press my hand to the back of my head and wince.
The next second, I’m back on my feet and searching for the entrance. I find it quickly. Thank the waters. Ducking into the crevasse, I make my way down the path.
I reach the fork and find my shells still on the ground. There’s some dirt on them but I leave them for later. Turning toward the exit, I move slowly, knowing the walls will close in. Tree roots gnarl around me.
Then it occurs to me… Why Haime hasn’t come back to check on me? Has she waited or gone to the tribe like I hoped? Fear takes hold.
The dirt loosens under my sandals, and the walls narrow even more. I stop, staring at them. The pathway’s gone, vanished under rocks and roots. My mind blanks, my heart races. I take a deep breath to stop my rising panic.
Lowering my torch, I press both hands against the obstruction and gently push. Nothing gives but for some loose dirt that crumbles to the ground. I press again, same result.
My nails bite into the dirt.
Don’t panic, Milaye. Don’t. But my throat tightens anyway. Haime’s made it to the other side, I know she has. She’s a
stubborn little dragon girl, she wouldn’t let some cave-in beat her.
“Okay, there has to be another way out,” I tell myself. “There’s another path.” Taking one last look at the blocked path, I wipe the dirt off my hands, grab my torch, and turn back. At the fork, I step over my shells and make my way down the other path. Only a few steps in and it’s already curving sharply to the right. I follow it for a time, not realizing how far and deep it goes. It is also getting smaller and tighter. I grow uneasy and keep my free palm on the hilt of my dagger.
Each step shoots a chill through my veins.
I’m getting farther from him.
When it occurs to me that there’s no end in sight, I pause. My vision is beginning to blur.
But I take another step anyway.
Leaning against the cave wall to rest, I place my hand to my heart and feel it thunder under my palm. I roll my head to the side, pressing my brow upon the stone wall. Its coolness gives me a moment of ease, and I check the wound on the back of my head, squeezing my eyes shut when there’s pain.
What am I going to do?
Tears threaten to fall, and I almost release them… I’m not trapped. We’re not trapped. There’s a way out of this. I’m sure of it. There’s no time for tears, not right now. Just because the entrance is shut and this path spirals downward, it doesn’t mean all is lost. I have to hope. I’ll do everything I can to survive. If I wallow now, I’m not Milaye, Protector of the Mermaid Coast, leader of Sand’s Hunters Huntresses, and Watcher of the Young. I’ll dig my way out if I have to.
I right myself.
But it pains me to imagine taking another step forward, knowing the bond will protest. I’ll have to come back later when I’m stronger… when he’s stronger. I’ve lost a lot of blood.
And I’m getting so tired. It’s unsafe for me to wander around in the dark, risking my life when there’s someone who needs me.
The male’s face surfaces in my mind. A rush of warmth floods me, and for a moment, I’m revitalized. My panicked heart calms, and a small smile lifts my lips. It gives me enough strength to keep pushing through my exhaustion, my fear.
