To Wake a Dragon: Venys Needs Men

by Lucas, Naomi

  I think.

  So, I have settled into this cursed life, and I wait until the day that I finally fall into true darkness from which I will not wake up again.

  Venom runs through my veins, poison, paralyzing me. An enormous injection that should have killed me long ago. Except I am an alpha dark dragon, and my body’s strength fights back death, even if I wish for it. Death does not come easy to dragons—especially dark dragons. We are resistant to it. And herein lies the humor…

  What makes me powerful and mighty has also cursed me.

  My heart pulses hard at the thought.

  The only satisfaction I have is that the poison dragon who bit me is dead. I made sure of it before I fell from the sky and crawled into this cave, planning to recover—HAH! I tore off that dragon’s head with my teeth, forcing his body down to the world as I fell. His taste still lingers in my mouth, rancid and bitter. The memory of his blood spraying across my body comforts me when insanity threatens, replacing it with glee.

  He did not take my territory.

  That is all that matters. Though sometimes I wish he had. Then perhaps my rage would give me the motivation to rise again, to tear him to shreds.

  He wanted to steal my nest.

  My territory is in a prime location… With the gulf nearby and the fertile jungle filled with creatures large enough to eat, hunger was never a worry. And with its central location, the likelihood of a femdragon in heat flying by was high.

  Fellow dragons envied my territory.

  Though whether it is still mine, I do not know. I sense other alphas now and again, but I do not know if they sense me. It is not like the rain. Alphas do not approach one another unless they are of the same blood or fighting over territory—or a mate. One has never sought me out, and so I believe my presence goes unnoticed. Surely, if one had, they would kill me and put me to rest.

  “Wait! Stop!”

  My heart weakly thumps again. Is that a voice? No. The only voices I hear are in my head. Drazak, fight the insanity.

  “Wait!”

  I hear it again. It is muffled though, as if it is coming from a distance. The voice does not sound like my thoughts, but I cannot be certain. I no longer know if I can distinguish outside sounds from those within my body.

  But then I hear it again. “Don’t run!” It is closer—and this time, there is a hissing sound. I have heard this hissing many times recently. It is not a sound I enjoy. It is soon followed by other noises though, the sound of scurrying and frantic movements.

  Something cold brushes the side of my tail, but then it is gone.

  Drazak, you have gone mad.

  “Haime… Haime!” Another voice shouts.

  It is a deeper voice than the first but not by much. Are there two beings sharing my head with me? They are speaking with each other now, and the worst part, it is in tongues. They are not speaking my language.

  I have never wished for the darkness more than I do now.

  Though one of the voices intrigues me. The second, deeper one. It is distinctly feminine. Why would a female’s voice be in my head? My ever-present frustration intensifies.

  Darkness take me!

  If I am to be cursed with the allure of a female, then I would rather be dead. She is not real, and worse yet, I cannot understand her. I have done nothing but want for eons. Want for control. Want for dominion. Want for vengeance. But this? This would be torture. I have so far been blessed with never scenting a femdragon’s heat in my cave, and the thought of that happening when I am powerless… horrifies me.

  Before I fell, I wanted a mate and dragonlings. To want them again, and still be denied, would be a terrible kind of torture, the type I do not know I could endure.

  There is a reason I fought so hard for my territory. It was not only for my pride and its location, but it was for the hope that a femdragon in heat would someday fly by and call out. I was preparing a nest… A nest I never finished but am lying in anyway. At least I know now that it is safe.

  “Stay right there. I’m coming for you!”

  My heart pulses with anticipation.

  It is getting closer, louder.

  Hope blasts through me that this, these sounds, may bring me my salvation.

  3

  Milaye in the Dark

  I crawl through dead leaves and roots before the tunnel opens up enough for me to stand. Dirt sticks to my skin from where the rain has wetted me, and I silently curse Haime’s recklessness.

  The fact that she can’t see bothers me. She’s always been able to find her way in the dark… It’s those dragon eyes. I brush off my misgivings, persuading myself it’s only because she’s deep in a cave.

  She’s my life but will be the death of me, I’m sure of it. But for now, I’m thankful, from the waters to the clouds and back, because I found her. Finding her safe—and ensuring she remains that way, despite her attempts to the contrary—is all that matters.

  “Milly?” I hear her up ahead. “W-where are you?”

  I lick my lips. “I’m almost there,” I call out to her.

  Waving my torch before me, the dirt tunnel has been replaced by a tight, rocky path. It’s claustrophobic and makes me antsy—especially since my spear remains outside—but I take it as a good sign that Haime is okay.

  If she’d fallen into a pit…

  I don’t even want to finish the thought. There are many caves along the coast, and some are just deep holes. My tribe stays clear of them because crawling out can be a rigorous ordeal.

  Still… A strange cave is not the place a huntress wants to be. I survey the walls around me. You never know what could be dwelling within. I have to be ready for anything. There could be snakes, spiders, or worse, little naga children leading you into a trap. Gripping my dagger hard, I pray to the waters that isn’t the case.

  Hurting a youngling naga unnerves me, but if it’s to protect Haime, I wouldn’t hesitate.

  Something scuttles over my foot, and I shriek, kicking out. It flies away, and I hop around, crying out with displeasure. Bumps prickle my skin, and I stick out my tongue in disgust. I hate bugs. Bugs are the worst.

  Haime’s going to clean fish for the next year after this. I shake out the feeling from my foot.

  “Aunt Milaye, are you okay?” Haime yells.

  No! No, I’m not okay! Bugs are never okay. My stomach churns. “Yes,” I say though. Just wait until I tell your mother. Aida will make her clean all the fish in the village for years for this. I daydream of swimming in the springs and scrubbing my skin clean, and the thought keeps me moving forward.

  Luckily the rock walls don’t get any tighter, though I doubt the ease of passage is a good sign. It means something travels through here a lot, and I hope it’s nothing more than the naga. But I don’t hear any hissing. That assures me there are no traps, at least for now. Then the path diverges, coming to a fork, and I frown.

  “Haime?”

  “Milaye?” Her voice came from the right-hand path. It sounds clearer than ever, and I know she’s near.

  Eyeing the left path, I tug my satchel forward and root out my bag of clamshells. I don’t want to spend the time searching it—leaving Haime alone any longer—but I don’t like having the trail at my back. Something could be lurking within. Instead, I sprinkle the clamshells on the ground. The thin shells aren’t common, but this is not a waste; they make a great alarm if stepped on. Placing them around a campsite at night can be what saves you from a predator sneaking up while resting. The sound startles them, and you.

  Moments later, I’m heading toward Haime, and the tightness in my chest eases when I hear her breathing.

  “Watch out, there’s a ledge,” she says just as the tight walls enveloping me vanish and my torch illuminates a drop-off. Haime emerges below, blinking several times from the torchlight. The edge is steep and smooth, as if at one point, it’d been eroded by water.

  Getting on my knees, I place the torch and dagger on the stone beside me.

  “Are y
ou okay?” I ask, reaching down.

  “I think so…” Haime grasps my hand but lowers her head. “I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad at me.”

  “Look at me,” I order, waiting until she does. There’s shame etched across her face, but I refuse to let it get to me. My lips flatten as I try to haul her up. She’s resisting. “We’ll talk about this once we’re outside. An apology wouldn’t have saved you if you’d been attacked, or if I hadn’t found the hole.” I try to lift her again. “Why aren’t you helping me?”

  Haime blinks at me. There’s a sheen in her pupils. “The naga boy is down here.”

  I stiffen, and my free hand finds my dagger. Peering out into the darkness, I see nothing even with the halo of torchlight. I hear nothing but Haime. That doesn’t mean there isn’t something there though. “Where?” I ask.

  “I don’t know. I lost him. I was able to see until I came in here, and then something happened…”

  “What happened?” I grip her harder. “Wait. Let’s get out of here, then we’ll talk.” I don’t like this. Haime can see well in the dark, but if she’s as blind as I am right now… that’s frightening. The dragon blood in her veins makes her different than any human. Despite her appearance, which makes her differences obvious, Haime is stronger, keener, and has sharper senses than any child I know.

  I try to pull her up, but she resists me again. “Haime,” I say her name in warning, edging closer to her. My hip bone bumps precariously against the ledge

  “I can see again now there’s light. I can’t leave him.”

  “We have to go.”

  “But he’s alone and hungry.”

  “You don’t know that for sure. Come, the torch won’t last forever, and it’ll be harder to get out of here without it. Trekking through the jungle at night is far more dangerous, and we’re running out of daylight.”

  “No!” She rips her hand from mine, pulling with such force I fall forward. “We can’t leave him!”

  A cry tears from my throat as I land, full frontal, on the cave floor below, partially on Haime herself. She’s beneath me, crawling out from under me, crying, as shocked tears fill my eyes. With my arms shielding my face, I groan as Haime flips me over and climbs over me.

  “Milaye? Milaye! I’m so sorry!” She shakes me ferociously, her childish voice heightened with fear. “Milly! Please get up.”

  My hands fall off my face and I moan, feeling the pain pulse through my arms, my knees.

  “Milaye? We need to find the boy.”

  I moan again, trying to sit up. I press my palms to my brow, hard. “Nooo,” I croak. She shuffles back from me. I slowly drop my hands down.

  “We have too!”

  “Haime…” My vision wavers.

  I reach out for her, weakly, but she scoots back. Everything turns to a blur.

  “Smells strange in here. It smells like hurt—pain. He’s in pain,” she whimpers.

  “Haime. Don’t,” I beg weakly as I try to grab her, but she’s no longer there. “Haime!” I shout as I hear her scurry off into the darkness. I nearly fall over but catch myself before I do. Worry careens through me. It was always there, even after I found her, but with the fall, I’m disoriented.

  If something should attack, I’d be an easy target. Get up.

  She’s an easier target.

  Get up!

  I call Haime’s name again as I rise to my feet. My toes curl with the effort, and I brace my palm against the rocky ledge to keep me from falling. Thank the waters for the torchlight above, it keeps me balanced.

  When I’m certain nothing is broken, only bruised, I reach up, grabbing at the ledge until I find my dagger. With it back in my hand, I’m a little less scared.

  Scared?

  I can’t believe it, but there’s fear. I’m in a situation I’m not prepared for, and Haime’s run off again. I wrench my eyes closed and shake my head before opening them, peering into the dark. Swallowing, I know I have to venture further into it.

  Haime said she couldn’t see without the light. I frown. Carefully, I stretch my body against the wall and nudge the handle of my makeshift torch toward the side. Once it’s close enough, I roll it with the tips of my fingers until I can grip it. With it below, I’m able to see a little more of my surroundings. But Haime was right, it’s so dark, like a black void where the light ends. There are no edges of rocks, roots, or walls. There’s nothing outside my light. Nothing.

  I’m already dizzy from the fall, but this… this is like being upended by a wave and not knowing which way is up to break the surface of the water. My breathing shallows.

  Must find Haime.

  I shake away my fear.

  I can’t punish her if I can’t find her. And waters, is she in for some discipline. I hold onto the thought as I pull a feather out of my hair and lay it on the ground by the wall, a trail to help me find the way out later. I twist around and take a steadying breath.

  I step into the vacuous, open cavern, and shiver.

  4

  Drazak’s Furor

  Haime. Haime. Haime.

  This strange word keeps repeating. I do not understand its meaning, but when I think it has finally stopped, I hear it again.

  Is this it? Have I gone crazed?

  Am I hearing voices, real or imaginary? It has been so long I cannot recall the sounds of the last voices I heard. Nor do I want to, knowing it was the poison dragon’s taunts. His voice would send me into a rage.

  Haime!

  But this voice is not a dragon’s. I am sure of it. And if it were, it must be a femdragon’s, it’s too sweet and lyrical to be a male. The likelihood of a femdragon being here, in this cave of all places, it is impossible. Femdragons keep to themselves far more than males, and though they prefer to travel—rarely claiming territory of their own—they only engage with others if they are in heat.

  This femdragon will not save me. Even if she is more than a voice in my head.

  I do not want to feel it—this hope—but it is there nevertheless.

  What if? No… My heart thumps repeatedly.

  This is not a femdragon.

  But…

  I have not felt this way, not since I fell from the sky and crawled into this cave, racing against time before the poison took its full effect. I have not endured this feeling of excitement even before then. It has been so long that I fear my mind might shatter. It hurts. I hurt.

  “That girl,” the feminine voice sours. So close now, almost too clear to be an illusion, and I am nearly wild with anticipation. “She’s never leaving the tribe’s rocks again if I have a say in it.” It is like a mumble across my wings.

  I wish I knew these words.

  Have I been here so long that my kind’s language has changed? The thought perturbs me. This whole situation frustrates me. Why is this happening now? That I cannot even seek out answers reignites my anger.

  But the only part of me that moves is my heart. It beats despite everything. It is the one muscle not affected by the poison—which is stagnant deep within—and never has been. The slow thread of blood that pumps through me is what keeps me alive. And the darkness… I am certain my continued cursed life has lasted this long because of the darkness that feeds my body.

  A strange scent fills the air, a beautiful, new scent, and I am transfixed. Hoping for change is one thing, hoping for death another, but hoping for a female is crazy.

  This smell though… This is the smell of a female.

  There is sweat and sea salt; there is jungle lily and spice. There’s a twitching in my nostrils, expanding for these smells to enter me, and I am stunned.

  I twitched.

  My mind goes blank. I barely comprehend what is happening. Whatever it is, I do not want it to end. Life after this moment will be worse than all that has already happened to me. To breathe in the ocean and jungle after so long, only to have the sensation taken away…

  Something small rams into my side. I hear a groan, and the sensation vanishes.

&
nbsp; “To the waters and back, my foot!”

  The voice and the smell are so close now that I am all but salivating. Something warm flares across my back leg, and a gasping noise sounds my ears.

  All noise stops completely soon after, not even the quiet breaths or moans continue.

  Do not go away. I plead. But something is happening at my hindleg, and I am unable to investigate. All I can do is wait.

  Minutes pass by, and my heart only hammers harder. The bloom of heat returns along my foot but disappears soon after. Now it is at my tail.

  It is fire, I realize. Something is wielding fire beside me. Nothing can wield fire like this but another dragon or…

  No.

  A human.

  Horror rushes through me. A human has found me. A great alpha dark dragon—a rarity in the world I once knew—lying paralyzed as a human nears. And not just any human, a female human.

  If she touches me, I lose everything. Everything that I have not already lost. My greatness, my majesty, even my hope that I will beat this poison—that I may one day fly.

  I will die human, bonded to a female, left unable to mate as the breeding heat consumes me.

  That would be cruel and painful and far worse than my sorry state now. I will lie here desperate for rutting, unable to either defend myself or take my female and dominate her, and as I grow crazed with lust, terrible shame will drown me.

  How much more will I be forced to endure? My thoughts roar. To be human and paralyzed…

  I do not want to die while losing my mind with mating heat. A female, even a human one, will not want a mate who cannot move. I am nothing if I cannot protect her.

  She will be shamed for my shame.

  I need to scare her away.

  I tense, strain my muscles, but nothing happens. Not even the twitching of my nostrils builds into something more. The tap of human footsteps punctures the silence, and pressure strangles my insides. Furor fills me, replacing the annoyingly delectable human scent, and my mind continues to roar.