Mate of the Dragon God

Chapter Nine: Agony

Agony. Agony. Agony. That's all Cyrus could feel. Like pieces of his flesh had been pierced through and were falling to pieces. Like he was rotting. He had only had his mate for a little over a day. She already hated him, she hated him so bad she ran away. She ran away and– Cyrus couldn't even finish the thought without bile rising in the back of his throat. He broke out of his stupor for a brief moment to fly off. He whipped himself off the ground, in an unknown direction, just away. He didn't want anyone to see him. Eventually, he crashed into the ground, ignoring the pain as particularly sharp trees jabbed into him as he crushed them. Feeling suitably far away from other living things, he finally howled.

His body had felt like it had turned into jelly, and he lay still as the world spun around him in dizzying swirls. He lost against the urge to vomit as he emptied his stomach onto the dirt nearby him. His head was pounding. It throbbed, sensitive to the fires above that he himself put there. For the first time in his life, he felt hot, yet the breeze of the air hit him and he felt cold. He squeezed his eyes shut. It was inevitable that a dragon would die without their mate. Cyrus imagined that being partially mated meant the process would be dragged out more. He also hoped it would be dragged out more, that he would suffer a little because of his mate's hatred of him.

Cyrus only knew of one dragon that died. Blain, a dragon of the night. He and his mate passed away gently together in sleep one night, both souls tired and having had several broods. His knowledge of the death was soft, peaceful, and welcoming. A final journey forever with one's mate, combining into one whole being once more. This was not peaceful or soft, this was agony. Was it because he wasn't connected to her soul? He didn't know. He didn't care. He was just in agony. Agony, agony, agony. He howled. It was less of a bellowing howl and more of a scream. Did it hurt when she died? Did she cry out in anguish until it all ended? Or was it quick, a crash of her skull to the hard ground, ending it all in one go? He sobbed.

"Cyrus." He heard a whisper. It sounded like the gentle touch of Auria's voice, patting his pain gently with its tone. He cried out louder. "Cyrus" He heard the whisper again, a little louder this time as if it were coming closer. Still, his vision was blurry and his hearing felt stuffy and far away. He was hallucinating his mate back to him. The realization of his delusional state pained him, but if he had to pretend to survive, maybe he could wait till her soul returned once more. He didn't know how long that would take, and it would be an agonizing wait. He tried to stifle his crying by listening to the soft whisper of Auria's voice. "Cyrus." It didn't sound as gentle anymore for whatever reason. It sounded grumpy, irritated. Maybe even his imaginings of Auria were mad at him.

Cyrus felt a light smack against his rear hind leg. Confused, he turned his neck and craned to see what had bounced against him. There before him was a dirt and mud-covered Auria scowling at him. His crying stopped, but his world still spun. She moved towards his snotty maw. Cyrus was still in shock. He didn't know if this was truly Auria or if his mind was betraying him to survive. She reached his head and reached her hands up beckoning at him. Tears pricked his eyes again, and he cried more.

"I guess we're even with the crying then, aren't we?" Auria asked. "I could hear you from miles away, at least that helped me find you." Cyrus bent his neck down, pushing his draconic snout against Auria's tiny human head. He tried to snuggle against her tiny form the best he could. "Ew," Auria cringed, "you're covering me in snot." Cyrus thought it was well-deserved, thinking of how she used his torso as a towel just this morning. Cyrus swallowed his howls in his throat, bracing himself for the question he was about to ask.

"Is this real?" he whispered. Auria wrapped her arms across his entire snout, hugging it to her chest.

"Of course?" Auria confirmed incredulously. "More importantly, why didn't you look for me? I got kidnapped!" Cyrus flinched back. Kidnapped? That is not what he was told. The wheels in his brain began to turn and dust themselves off from the whirlwind of emotion that he put them through. The camp he had seen had lied to him. They stole her, and she escaped, his resourceful and beautiful mate. His resourceful, beautiful, stunning, alive mate. His mate who didn't escape him and died, who loved him and was waiting for him this entire time. His mate who was... hungry. He groaned aloud. He had yet to feed her. Now she was covered in scrapes and dirt. He was a horrible mate. He released all tension in his body and let himself just flop to the ground exhausted.