The Dragon's Consort

Chapter 4

Zara had been trapsing through the forest like a buffoon for three days, with a pair of beady yellow eyes following her every move like a crazed mother hen. She had thought she was athletic, but that stupid male was vigorous. She was used to being swift and agile, channeling her strength into her balance. But Zurden was a robust presence, brute forcing his way through everything. She had caught herself looking at his hulking muscles everytime he moved.

But this time she gave in, and enjoyed the view. He was busy taking down the tent with his back turned. Entranced as flesh and sinew rippled in early morning light. The black, ashen scales scattered across it glinted with every move. Even his horns seemed to shimmer in the sun. Her throat dried as bead of sweat trickled down the nape of his neck. Why did other dragons run around shirtless with all their wonderfully cruel brawn. Damn her instincts for making this the best performance she'd ever seen.

She pulled her hood up as dirty, vile thoughts crept in from the deepest part of her conscious, one she had locked away. She shut down the wicked grin that contorted her face. She shoved jerky into her mouth to distract herself from him.

Thankfully she was too tired to have a long attention span, and she had too many other things swirling around in her mind. Like how she would meet his brother that evening. The whole idea disturbed her. It was risky enough to have one male around her but seven? She already had no windows of escape with that beast hovering.

She was getting out of her comfort zone, she always followed behind the rest of the nomads, who travelled to follow animals and migration patterns, which meant she had the scraps, but she was safe, and rarely crossed paths with anyone.

Zara cursed as she chewed on the flavorless meat, fiddling with Todd, her chubby dragon charm. She'd need to get out as soon as possible, before her freedom became more limited. She watched Zurden carefully, making sure his back was still turned. She pulled out a sealed bag from her satchel, ground up powder was inside. It was made from pyreroot, a cousin of the hellberry, and caused her not to produce pheromones or hormones. Her best line of defense, considering a dragon's elite sense of smell.

She tried not to gag and cough as she swallowed, it tasted like homicide and regret. It burned going down, worse than any alcohol or drug. She felt the effects hit her instantly, her brain grew foggy and her temples ached. She knew how unhealthy it was, knew that it was only damaging her health, left her open to sickness, and she hated it. It would keep her safe for a week before she'd need to take it again.

She stifled a groan and stood, stretching out her neck, ignoring the dizziness she felt. She paced a few strides, before realizing that the dragon was paying no attention to her. She slowed her steps down, making them quieter, and quieter, until they were silent.

Zara sculked out of the main clearing they had set up in. She stalked further into the woods, each prance getting her further and further away. She found a tall enough tree, scaling it faster than she ever had. As she reached a sturdy branch, she pulled herself up, and started sprinting. Leaping tree to tree across the canopy. Freedom was so close. Just a few more minutes before she'd let up her hasty pace.

Then a roar sounded, so loud she almost fell from the tree tops.

Shit.

She ducked, tucking in close to a tree. A sharp hiss of magic, followed by a gust of wind unlike any other carving into the air. The trees shook, and birds scattered into the air. He shifted. Went full dragon. She was in shit; deep shit.

She looked up, through a break in the thick leaf cover, and saw a magnificent inky black reptilian beast tear through the skies at a breakneck speed. The great oak trees teetered in their roots, a few smaller ones even uprooted at the sheer power of the shockwave.

It was enough to send her falling to the ground. Her back screamed at the pain, but her healing kicked in as she struggled to stand. Before she could make a decision, a strong grip forced her steady.

"That was the most idiotic attempt I have ever seen," Zurden growled, he turned her around to face him, "what is wrong with you! I provide for you, I give you protection, and your first instinct is to run away."

"It's not like I had a choice in the matter! I was minding my own business and you decide that you have a responsibility that no one asked you have!" Zara snarled, trying to tear away from his hold, but failing.

"I have seen too many young ones, too many brothers die. Our species is dying, they are our last chance to make things right. You are the last chance to make things right."

"So what? So what if our species died out? It is not like we have ever done any good. As if we have left any positive mark on the world."

He just gnarled, teeth and fangs grinding, "we protect our brothers, that is our way."

"I am not your brother!"

Zurden looked, almost hurt, "I understand that others have hurt you in some way, but I will not. Me and my family are not like that."

"Do you expect me to believe that? Expect me to risk it for anyone? For you?"

"Risk what?" he demanded.

"Everything!" she howled, losing control of the pain that snaked through her voice.

He got quiet, "I am sorry. Clearly I do not know what you been through, but I plead to you, to reconsider. If something were to happen, I would not be able to forgive myself, knowing I could have stopped it."

"But I do not know you. Why would you bother?" Zara questioned.

"It would be against my nature not to," he paused, relaxing his tight grip on her arm, "I will not force to you to stay, but I ask you to contemplate it, at the least."

She stood, hands tucked in her pockets, hood covering her horns and the vast majority of her face, and cloak disguising every curve and bend hidden underneath. She gripped Todd in the palm of her hand.

What harm could a few months in a brotherhood do? Would it truly be that hard to conceal her identity, she had done it her whole life after all. Maybe she would have fun; trust in someone for the first time in years. Another voice hissed and wailed in the back of her mind. Remember your mother. Remember her pain. They will turn on you if they find out. Everyone does.

Instead of giving into it, as she always did, she fought back. She ignored it, she cursed it; she cursed that part of herself that was unwilling to move on, to try again.

"Fine," she finally said, "I will follow you."