by Lucas, Naomi
Haime is safe.
She is safe.
From this day forward, protecting Drazak and our family is my purpose.
This revelation lifts a burden from my soul. But it is replaced by another. Though at least it’s not as heavy nor as frightening as the last. It’s inspiring and hot. Like there’s a fire in me that was never there before. It bursts and flows, remedying my worries.
“Milaye,” he says, “I will not let you face tomorrow’s sunlight alone. As long as the wretch does not come near us, we will go to your tribe together.” Drazak’s voice is cool and surprisingly calm. “She is pregnant,” he growls to Zaeyr. “My human has strained herself much these last few days. We will accept your mate’s offering of food and rest, as I find is the human’s way.”
Zaeyr drops his hand and strides away, following after the others. It’s decided. My eyes grow heavy.
Drazak lifts me in his arms and follows after him. For the first time, I have no idea what my future will bring, only that good things await us. Sand’s Hunters or not.
I rest my arm on my belly.
Tonight, I can sleep with Drazak in the safest place I know: my hut. Where there are no bugs. My male will be with me in the home I built for myself, for the family I only daydreamed would come. Now that I am here, I can finally, finally rest. I have never been so tired.
It seems like I’ve been keeping myself going, and passing my limit, for days. Abruptly. Oddly, my stress vanishes. It’s strange but I don’t dwell on it. The fire in my chest expands, filling my limbs. Goosebumps rise from my skin. The last rays of the setting sun infuse me.
The fire wants to fill me up like Drazak has filled me. I let it, allowing it to soothe my soul.
I press my lips softly to Drazak’s skin.
He grips me a little tighter, and I let myself feel… good.
18
Drazak’s Nightmare
I cannot sleep.
I pretended for Milaye’s sake, but she fell into a slumber once the other humans started the fire. She dozed in my arms on the walk to her tribe, only rousing long enough to eat. I have never seen her relax so willingly but take it as a good sign, she trusts me.
Though I find it odd that she does not want to show me her home, or speak more than a few words to the other humans. Not even the little girl, Haime, can wake her enough to answer her tirade of questions.
Guilt nips at me. Is it me who she trusts… or is it the other humans?
I am taking her away from them.
I shake my head. It is for the best. I will ensure our nest is near enough that she can visit. Milaye was right about having younglings… I do not know how a human gestates, and if it is beyond my ability to help, I want her close to those who have done it before. Seeing Haime, and the other half-dragon children convinced me.
Do human females lay eggs like femdragons? I stare at the crux of my female’s thighs. Her sheath is soft enough for the delicacy of eggs, but it is also extraordinarily tight.
My prick bulges at the thought.
Though dragon eggs are hard and not easily broken, humans are not dragons…
For one, they can mate a lot more often with a lot more vigor. I grab my shaft, shifting it so it does not chafe the cloth wrapped around me. I am eager to bare her again, all the way to my root, but I do not have the cruelty in me to rouse her.
I will bare her for rutting when she wakes.
Zaeyr, the other dragon male, pervades my mind. My shaft softens thinking of him. Now that we have met, I sense him, feeling him in the way all alpha dragons sense other alphas nearby.
It is a mechanism to defend our territories—and our hard-won mates—from the theft of others. Rutting Milaye will be risky with Zaeyr around. I am sure of it.
But as the night deepens, and the raucous noises of the other human’s outside my mate’s hut lessens, I relax. I stoke our fire. One of the humans brings me slabs of raw meat, and I eat my fill, but no one else disturbs us.
Which is good, because I may snap at any time. I have already had to stop myself from lashing out whenever others near. I hear their breaths outside our walls, the crunch of their footsteps. Every sound puts me on edge.
Where are the thick terra walls to keep us safe? Where are the rocks and stones that block out the noise? Milaye’s hut is made of wood slats, reeds, and leaves, all under one large jungle tree. Not safe at all.
Not suitable for my mate, nor my younglings… If I were still a full-blooded dragon, I could curl around my human so she might be protected everywhere, but that is no longer an option.
And worst of all, I now sense a second alpha dragon, another besides Zaeyr. I do not know where he is, but he did not make himself known to me when we arrived. And I am certain Zaeyr does not live with another alpha in his midst.
There was a mention of Kaos… I shake my head, pushing the concerns aside. Regardless, the other alpha’s presence grows stronger as the night grows longer.
He will be mated too. I am sure of it. With this many females, he would have taken one to rut. Still, I will kill him if he nears my human. I will kill any male who nears her. My hand's clench. A male, a human one named Leith, gave me clothes, but he was smart and fled before I lost control.
My jaw ticks. There are far too many males here for my liking. Even one is too much.
I distract myself by studying Milaye’s belongings. It calms me for a time.
Her hut is round, and hides are draped upon every wall, across the floors, and around the firepit. Each from a jungle beast far larger than my human. Her kills bring me pride, but fear as well—any one of these animals could have killed her before she came under my protection.
There are also weapons. Many of them, and I am curious about most of them. There are spears, some with multiple prongs, and others that are stunted. There are daggers made of bones and unidentifiable items carved from rocks or wood. There’s a bow—I know it is a bow from the times the humans of old attempted to use them against me when I neared their homes. I pick it up. With these memories, it is strange to hold it in my grasp.
Once I have scrutinized everything in my view, I pull some hides from the walls and begin collecting the weapons within them. We will bring these with us wherever we go.
My nostrils flare. There is a strange smell in the air.
Milaye moans. Sweat beads her brow, and her face is creased. My eyes narrow. I go to her side and press my cheek to hers.
Heat. Humid, deep heat rises from her flesh. It is not the heat of her arousal. I sniff her skin and a sickly sweetness fills my nose. The strange scent is coming from her. She moans again, and I lean away to study her.
Is she sick? My chest constricts. I find the plate she ate from and bring it to my nose. It is nothing like the smell from her.
If someone has poisoned her, I will obliterate this village and everyone in it. I will tear this jungle apart and all in my path. Terror would return to these lands, and Venys would fear the dark dragon who lost his mate.
I take a taste. I do not taste poison.
Regardless, something is wrong. I take her hand and squeeze it, finding it limp in my grasp. “Milaye?”
No response.
“Milaye?” I say her name louder. Still, no reaction. My stomach churns. “Milaye!” I tangle my hands into her hair and lean over her. “Wake up! Wake up, female!” I gather her in my arms. “Milaye?”
A banging raps on the door, but I do not respond. I press my cheek to my female’s instead.
“What’s wrong?” someone shouts.
Milaye’s breath breezes over my skin, whisperingly light. Moving one of my hands to her chest, I find the beating of her heart. She is alive, but she does not wake. I bring my hand back up to her face. “Milaye? Can you hear me?” I am overcome with dread. “Answer me, human!”
What if? What if she is suffering what I suffered?
My nostrils flare. It cannot be. The poison dragon has long been dead. My human was never bitten. And though we are bon
ded, it would be impossible for something like poison transferring between us.
Unless…
I jerk away from her.
The banging and yelling from the door grows louder.
My eyes widen in horror. Unless it was in my saliva and my seed.
A crash sounds behind me. I twist to see Zaeyr and Aida with several other females of the tribe stand at the door. I growl in warning for them to stay back, but I am thrown away. Zaeyr leaps on top of me, baring his teeth, and I do not fight him. Stunned, I lie there, as limp as my human.
“Kill me,” I rasp. “Please.”
Zaeyr’s brow furrows.
Milaye’s tribe mates rush to her side, trying to rouse her as I had.
“What did you do to her?” one of them cries.
My lips part, but nothing comes out.
I poisoned her.
Zaeyr rises and I clench my hands. But before I can taunt him back to me, to end my horrid life, he goes to Milaye’s side. I surge up, shoving him away from her.
“Stay away from my female,” I roar.
He growls but remains where he is. A female rushes into the hut—his mate, I recognize—and goes to his side. I turn back to Milaye and the others around her. I growl again in warning and, to my surprise, one of them growls back.
The rest are undressing Milaye and splashing her with water. “What’s wrong with her?” the one who growled demands. “She’s unresponsive.”
“Tell us! Was she bitten by something? Could it be vine drought?” another asks.
“No, she’s not turning green,” one of them responds.
“Jungle serpent venom?”
“There’s no puncture wounds.”
“There’s bruises.” The female who said it narrows her eyes at me.
I push the women away and grab Milaye’s form to my chest. “It is none of those things,” I hiss.
“Then what is it?”
“Me… It is me.”
19
Fighting Fire
“Milaye, fight it!”
I hear Drazak’s voice.
Fight what?
My skin is tight, as if it’s been stretched like an animal hide across curing poles. But it’s the sensation of being uncomfortably full that stirs my mind. And I am full. It’s this fullness that’s made my skin taut, I’m sure of it.
Every second that passes, my body grows even fuller, my skin tighter. I want to scream, but my mouth won’t open.
Make it stop! Please make it stop!
But I make no noise.
Though something does answer me, I realize it after a moment of anxiety. The lazy, relaxing heat I felt earlier roars to life, spreading through my limbs. The warmth takes away the pressure, easing my flesh to loosen up.
Though I still remain excruciatingly full, and that same heat has only worsened it.
The fire tells me to let it in, to surrender into it, to let it consume me. To let it keep filling me and filling me until I burst. I want to do as it asks… but something in me fights it. Fear. I think I’m afraid.
I don’t want to burst open. There will be nothing left of me if I do. I have a mate to live for, a baby to live for… I can’t burst. I can’t.
Someone takes my hand and raises it to their mouth.
Drazak. My heart thrums. He’s my fire. It’s because of him that I’m feeling better.
I fall back under and sweet, restful oblivion takes me again.
I wake to screams. Wrenching, ear-splitting screams, unlike any I have ever known. There’s screaming all around me, on every side. It’s coming from within me as well, but so many others.
Why are people screaming?
Pain rips through me, and I lose consciousness.
The third time I wake, I’m being carried. Someone is running and I’m in their arms. Each step sends blazing jolts of lavafire through me.
Drazak. I’m in Drazak’s arms. I want to smile, but my mouth falls open instead. Several of my teeth fall out. The pain returns, hot and fast.
“Milaye! Hang on!” Drazak roars.
And then I hear the screams again. This time they’re all mine.
20
To Wake A Dragon
I rush away from the humans, down the lift, and out onto the beach. Dragon fire rages behind me, but I do not stop. Zaeyr follows, helping me with my precious burden.
Milaye is in my arms, but she is not the Milaye I know.
She was not poisoned. After several days of caring for her with her tribemates, it became clear that what Milaye suffered was not what I had. She did not have poison dragon venom festering inside of her. No, I learned that was not the answer when she grew scales, her skin tore open, and her limbs expanded.
No, she is not sick at all.
She is transforming into a dragon.
The alpha dragon that I felt nearing, the one Zaeyr had felt as well. It was not this Kaos from another tribe; it was Milaye. She is the alpha closing in on us. She is becoming one of us.
A scream rips from her throat, and I tighten my hold. Her back arches, and a loud cracking fills my ears. Zaeyr stops next to me and sets Milaye’s tail in the sand beside her.
It burst from her backside just as we decided to leave, because with it, dragon fire began escaping from her lungs. She bathed the ceiling of her hut in flames that seemed to never end, and by the time it did, the tribe was in chaos, and I was covered in blood and soot.
Milaye’s screams have been unending since. Her mouth still smolders, the flames returning at random.
“I need to go back,” Zaeyr says quickly, rising to his feet. “They will need my help putting out the fire.”
“Go.” I lay Milaye’s convulsing body down.
“I will be back soon.”
Milaye writhes and anything else Zaeyr says is lost. He worries for his mate and younglings, and that is an honorable thing to do. Though he laid his hands on Milaye, I do not loathe him as much as before. He stopped my female’s sisters from gutting me.
He and his bonded, Aida, have offered my mate and me a haven. One for her to transform in, one that contains me while I watch over her.
I pet my human’s beautiful hair back.
Milaye’s eyes snap open.
“Human?” I grab her to me. Her gaze fixates on mine. Her mouth strains open into a silent scream. Sharp, pointy teeth have replaced her blunt human ones. She coughs and chokes and spits out a fallen tooth.
Fear and pain etch her face. My chest squeezes. I would do anything to take the pain from her.
“Mate,” I say as calmly as possible. I am not calm at all.
Tears well in her eyes.
“It is okay,” I say.
Her mouth moves but no words come out.
“Let it happen, little human. Do not fight it. Fighting will only make it worse.” I wipe away the tears falling down her cheeks. Her head drops back and cracking sounds fill the air again. Something wet and slick pushes against my arm. Laying Milaye on the sand, I discover that a wing burst from her back.
She screams, curling her legs into herself. “Drazak,” she whimpers. The sound is meek but I am so relieved that she speaks.
I take her wing and spread it out. It grows and grows. The other pops out with another shriek. Dewy and wet, the wings straighten, shedding a glistening filminess. Stunning white hide appears between the shimmering gold joints. They fold and open, and when they expand again, they are bigger and longer than before.
In awe, I stare at my female’s coloring.
It is not like mine at all, it is light itself, borne of sunshine. My throat tightens in wonder. What kind of dragon is my female? If she is not of me?
“Drazak,” she groans, tears streaming from her eyes. “It hurts…”
I caress her face. “I know, little femdragon. I would take it from you if I could.” I would take the pain a hundred times over and more. “If it pulls you under, let it. I will be here.”
Her mouth purses, and she shuts her eyes tightly. I l
ean in and press my brow to hers, giving her the darkness from my jewel. She opens her eyes.
They are no longer dark, but metallic gold. They shine like the stars at night.
I whisper my lips along her cheek when a burst of air rushes over me. It swirls in ever-quickening gusts, and when I pull back, Milaye is staring at me, her body expanding.
Bright light explodes from within her, and her scream assails the air, morphing into a rumbling, heightening roar. I wince, blinded. Something hot pushes against my side, and I fall back, tumbling over and onto Milaye’s wing. It rises under me. Through our bond, chaotic shocks of energy grapple me. It is a power I had long forgotten. A dragon’s power.
The birth of an alpha.
Milaye’s soul invades mine, taking it over. Her roar grows louder, stronger, overpowering the cracking of her bones and shredding of her human skin. I peer through my fingers, forcing myself to look though it burns my eyes.
Her human body is gone.
All that remains is her glorious new one. I sit upon my knees. The light fades.
Feathers cover her back, reaching over the tops of her flapping wings. Each wave of them sends my hair flying in the air. Like her wings, her body is pearly white and rimmed with gold, accented with crevasses of amber red veins. She is covered in soft-looking scales from her long neck, down to the tip of her coiling tail. Tufts of gold and dark red feathers sprout out the end of it.
Where I have two arrow-pointed tails, Milaye has the power of one. I long to curl mine with hers.
Her dragon is lovely and soft, and everything that would make a male alpha dragon envious and desperate to bear young with her. I stand, covetous, ready to defend my right to be with her.
Milaye turns to me. Her golden eyes enrapture mine, and love explodes my heart. I am torn asunder by the mere sight of her.
“Mate,” I say in reverence. “You let me in.”
“Mate,” she rumbles back, speaking in my ancient dragon tongue.