Chapter 1 Running

"Wait!" The gurgling voice called for me. A claw clawed the upper part of my ankle; I winced at the sharp sting but kept going. Flinging the weighty door open to the unobstructed air, I bolted to the treeline, which wasn't far. This area was usually secure, streaming with guards, but many were missing. I didn't question it; this was my only chance. His gurgles became more transparent; he was healing far too quickly. My hope for escape was diminishing, but I trudged on because facing the repercussions was not an option. My feet were burning despite the cold weather. The damp leaves clung to my bloody feet while I tried to silently run through the dense woods. Thorns, briars scraped my skin; the moon was still high in the night sky. No footsteps were running after me; heck, I didn't even know if they could fly or if it was an old wives tale to scare children. I wasn't about to find out. My steps hit soft patches of moss-like material. Bright lights flew out, sparkles catching the moonlight as I whipped by. Not the kind of attention I needed. I really sucked at this. The morning light finally came into view. I might have been running for hours, but it felt like days. My breathing was heavy despite every part of trying to remain silent. It was a fruitless endeavor; even if I could keep quiet, they would still find me. Their senses were overwhelming; never in my life had I seen such a creature of a high predatory grace. Despite the blood-red eyes, their features were handsome among the men and beautiful among the women. Remembering that beauty is only skin deep came to mind when their true intentions followed once I  met them. Tripping for the tenth time, I stood up, holding my hands to my knees, hyperventilating for a few minutes. I had to keep going, even if I didn't hear them behind me. They were built to hunt, created to fight their prey tooth and nail. To them, I was a mere human, an easy source for their meal or illicit desires. Shivering at the thought, I gripped forward. I complain and run through the wild thick of the trees. I was said to be unique, and this night the Duke was to have what he had wanted for the past 6 months. Me on his bed, to be claimed. Though I was dressed in a beautiful nightgown with a necklace around my neck and treated just a bit better than the other unfortunate humans that I roomed with, it was just a curse.  The shortened sleeves held lace around my arm, the purple dye the finest that this mini place could offer, I was sure. None of the other humans like me wore anything of the sort. My hair was curled to perfection, tiny bits of mascara to cover my lashes, all the other vampire women huffed in disgust as they left me in the Duke's cold room. There was no fire to warm the room, despite knowing humans could very well freeze in weather likes this. Rubbing my arms, I could remember the cold breath that ran up my neck when I thought I was alone. His nose traced my neck; I was too scared to move. The blood rushed up straight to my neck, where his fangs tickled the artery.  The sharp serrated knife that one helpful vampire girl slipped to me just the hour before was gripped between my thighs. "Odessa," his voice curled underneath my skin. Like nails on a chalkboard, his black claw slithered up my forearm. "I've been the only one that has fed off of you since you arrived, and I don't think the demon in me can resist you anymore. You've fed me into an obsession." The Duke turned his back to me, not expecting me to get off my knees and lunge towards his neck. I'd been the quiet one, the reserved and obedient one. The Duke liked that, and I used it until I could use it to my advantage. Pulling the dogwood knife between my thighs, I said a quick thankful prayer to the one vampire girl that tried to help. My hand went to his forehead, and the knife slipped in my sweaty hand until it ran across his neck. Slumping to the floor, I jumped off the bed to run. Shuttering at the remembrance of that monster, I jumped into the creek. My body protested, but it had to be done. The blood needed to be washed away; my scent, the 'allure' he kept talking about the nights where he fed on me in his cold room, had to get off me. They could track me, their noses were keen, but this only meant that my body would suffer all the more. The scratches covered the many holes in my arm where they had fed the past six months; my fingers traced the scared forearm. Vampires didn't drink from the neck of their 'food.' No, neck drinking was meant to be an intimate bonding time between their lovers. Last night, the Duke wanted to take me as his lover, and who knows what would have happened after that. Dunking my head in the icy water, I emerged with new energy, new life. My feet were cleansed of the blood and jumped from the icy depths, bolting to the North. At least, I hoped it was the North. The trees grew sparse, less dense, and not as menacing. These giant trees didn't remind me anything of home. Some had held a glow that hovered around the bases. More significant than that of a firefly, but I didn't have time to notice because I was running for my life. Running to freedom. I ran all day, no water or food. My body wanted to crumple to the ground in exhaustion. The scratches on my calf had to be infected; they itched while the cold air flew by. My adrenaline was depleted since there was no sign of anyone coming for me, but I couldn't be too sure. Finding a tree with branches low enough for me to reach. The once beautiful purple nightgown had rips and holes. Frayed at the knees and dirt in the lace. Each pull on the branch was agonizing until I reached a safe height. Indeed this was high enough to sleep just for a few hours. By the time I awoke, the sun had started to set. I couldn't stay still any longer; they could have caught up to me by now. I ran, hobbled for another five hours, and then crumpled into the moss. My stomach and mind protested, saying that this was it; I could no longer continue. Now, here I stand in front of tall trees, in the middle of the mountains. The terrain is much more complicated than the darkened forest I had crawled out of days ago. The flash of dark hair, red eyes, clawed fingers swept through my vision. A flap of wings blew past my ears; a yip left my lips while I stumbled down into a deep revene. My hair tossed into the branches, my fingers gripped the jagged rocks. Nails ripped from my fingers, and a jolt of pain in my ankle shot through my body. My back came to a halt at the base of a vast, dead tree. My forehead was bleeding, and there was no way I could walk to a stream to rinse away the blood. If there even was a stream nearby. Luckily, it was a ravine, and the wind wouldn't blow my scent around for the vampires to find me as quickly. My eyes drooped in exhaustion; my heartbeat could be felt in my ears. I needed shelter; I couldn't just sit here all alone. Several flying animals, a bat? A sparrow? Firefly? Flew past my head. For a minute, I thought they could be fairies, but that was obscured; no such things existed? Then again, vampires did; witches did. That was how I came to the Duke. Could they exist too? My shoulders slumped, pulling my body and crawling around the tree. A sliver of an opening was just large enough to fit my tiny body into the trunk. A defeated moan left my lips, dragging my indeed broken ankle into the decaying tree. I couldn't see the large blue moon anymore if I sat just right, hiding me from the outside world. It was the bluest of moons I had ever seen; I don't remember the last time I saw it with such color. My eyes were playing tricks on me; it had to be. Being able to see the sky was a wondrous feeling. I didn't see it for months sitting in a drippy basement. All the humans missed the sky, the sun. Several of the girls wondered if there was even a sun anymore. After running for two days, I didn't even stop to look at it. The weakness of the run, the adrenaline leaving my body, the faux feeling of finally feeling safe and free. I wasn't bound in the human cage. No, my ankle now bound me here, and who knows if I would actually live past this night. My throat swallowed a bit of spit, coating the scratchy part. No relief came; I sighed defeated until a rumble of thunder in the distance caught my attention. This was both good and bad, my scent will be washed away, but now I will be freezing. To die a free woman was better than a blood and sex slave. This I was sure of. I could rest, close my eyes and let the dark spirits take me away in my sleep if they were feeling merciful tonight. That sounded much better than being forced to love a vampire who had drunk my blood for the past months. It was much better to have a choice. The rain began to pour, darkness swept over the sky, and the blue moon was hidden behind the clouds. All became quiet, no longer hearing the light pattering of small animals. They all had crawled up into their burrows to get away from the cold rain. The dead tree above was keeping me dry, thankfully. The water hit the side of the bark with a slap and trailed down the thick tendrils of the roots that I was sitting in. Particular tendrils curled up, looking like a bowl. It filled quickly with water. Sitting up with a groan, I put my lips straight to the natural bowl, drinking down as much as I could. It was clean, refreshing. Becoming overwhelmingly thankful, I began to cry. The first time since arriving to this land, I finally cried. Grateful to be free, grateful to be far away from the hell that I survived from, I leaned back into the tree. Besides the pain in my ankle, I was happy. For this moment, I knew I was going to survive. Not sure how, but I would endure. No more complaining, no more feeling sorry for myself. When I wake, as long as my body willed me, I would continue on, for me. … My eyes blinked, but it was no longer dark the next time they opened. The rain had stopped, and wet soil filled my nose. It wasn't quiet. However, loud whooshing sounds came from the bottom of my tree stump. A cold, damp mushroom brushed my toes. I squeaked involuntarily. Slapping my hand over my mouth, the mushroom moved again and sniffed harder. A paw came through the tree stump and started to dig a hole. The paw was massive, hairy, and claws as long as my fingers. I didn't come this far to be dug out by an animal. Trying to use my good foot, I pushed the mushroom, now realizing it was a nose away from me. It was a fruitless endeavor because I barely moved it. It sneezed and pushed forward again, humming a tune to the rhythm of its paws. At least it wasn't biting me yet. "Please don't," I whispered. "Please don't eat me." Sounding pathetic, a grunt caught the animal's attention, and it scampered off not too far from the tree.  Leaning forward, my head came closer to the hole, taking in the brightness of the outside. My eyes widened at the sight that I saw. The animal sat patiently, wagging its tail, pushing the leaves, and debris staring up at nothing to be called short as a Viking warrior. His chest was bare; tribal tattoos, scars, and scrapes littered his chiseled body. One large scar went straight through his eye, causing the hair to not grow on a portion of his eyebrow that led down his neck. Tight braids held his long hair at the top while the sides of his head were shaved. His facial hair was a dark beard; some bits of beads adorned it that touched his collar bone. Sweat dripped on his forehead while he adjusted the leather straps crisscrossed over his body. Once he petted his animal, his eyes met mine; his animal crossed between a wolf and tiger, panted his tongue in my direction. Despite fearing everyone and everything since my arrival at that blood bank prison, this man didn't scare me like the vampires did.  His eyes held warmth, but his body and face were stiff with impending questions. What was he going to do to me?

Chapter 2 Found

Creed's POV The night's previous storm brought good omens. Fresh rain washed the trails giving new smells for fresh game. Despite the dark cave where Razak and I dwell, I knew exactly when the light sources would hit the sky. The double light hits the cave at just dawn giving the temperature a few degrees increase. My dragon was to thank for his stubborn temperature fascination. Clearing my throat, I grabbed the jug of fresh rainwater that had dripped in the night. It was cool, refreshing, and welcomed. Once the snow hit the mountains in a few weeks, I would miss the fresh rainwater. Razak was still asleep on the floor, the bed of furs laid for him were worn and tattered, yet he slept like a king, unlike the other hybrid beasts like him. I had found him when it was just a cub; his mother was killed in a hunting expedition held by one of the dragon tribes on the Southside of the mountain. Many tribes were careless, not caring if a female animal was pregnant or nursing young. If they continue to kill without thinking, they will find their tribes going hungry later in the winter. Since I lived alone, having a companion would be helpful. I'd trained him on clicks and whistles, so I didn't have to strain my voice. If he was in trouble, all I had to do was say was his name, and he would cower in the corner. My voice wasn't the most pleasant since my accident, and using it scared many. So silent is how I remained, even to the animals of the forest. Rising from my nest of furs, slinging my pack over my shoulder, Razenak wakes with a start. His tongue hangs out over his wolf-like maw. His dark hair covered his entire body, but even darker hair of stripes and harsh lines decorated his coat. Sleek movements like a cat, yet the possessiveness of a wolf. He was the perfect combination of loyal and independent. Sending him off into the forest to capture his own meal was helpful when trying to take care of myself. Yet rewarding when he comes back and brings game to me one as well. Clicking twice and whistling once, he knows I call for him. My bag held rope, knives, and a small shovel to dispose of any innards that I did not want. Giving back to nature what I have taken to spring new life makes this land turn. Respect it, and it will respect you. Shutting the gate that protected us from unwanted intruders at the back of the cave, we continued walking a short distance until we reached the outside. No large animals dare come in, not unless it was a wondering supernatural caught the rain; even then, they wouldn't stay long. The lingering smells of scorched walls and smoke held true scenting to ward them off. Not just any dragon-like creature here, but a wild one. Razak was full of energy this morning, brought a bit of a smile on my face while he pranced about in the puddles around the twisted trees. The bit of cold breath that left his mouth gave a fright to the forest fairies that lurked for sprouting to take at the bottom of the mountain. The sprouts wouldn't survive the winter, and forest fairies were an imaginative species. No plant was left uncared for. Razak scouted up ahead while I checked the traps. I was looking for bigger game, a bear perhaps, but not with Razenak this morning. The spring in his step was too loud, and hunting would not be fortuitous this morning. Shaking my head, I pulled the dead rabbit to my bag. It was fresh, still warm to the touch. Drying it would be easy and make a great jerky treat. Razak's soft paws stopped scuffling about the forest floor. The leaves calmed, and the wind even changed direction. A new smell wafted to my nose; it reminded me of summer citrus, the bouquet was long since forgotten since my mother. It was laced with a hint of salt and blood. Resetting the trap quickly, my feet moved to the smell of my pet; he was sniffing the tree, pawing at the undergrowth of the dead trunk with long spindled tendrils. Whatever was inside was small. Small movements and light breathing, gasping for air could be heard. Razak continued to paw at the ground, trying to dig it free. He was trying to pry it free, not eat whatever was inside. When he would find prey, he would growl, bark and use his brute strength to challenge his food. This was different, almost pawing and whimpering at the tiny creature inside. Inside, a slight movement rustled with the mud and a faint whisper. Sniffing again, it was still the same citrus smell. It was not of a fae, elf, or nymph that could easily enter the trunk. In fact, it seemed much smaller. My curiosity was becoming the best of me; I almost didn't hear the small whisper. "Please, don't eat me," it begged. The voice was that of angels. Miniature and meek, quiet as one of the whisps that liked to toy with my braided hair. My heart almost stopped hearing its cry. Whistling Razak back to my side, I praised him with a few clicks of my tongue and looked back over at the base of the trunk. Dirty fingers touched the outside of the rotting tree, and half of a dirty porcelain face peaked out. The saltiness I smelled was that of her dried tears stuck to her face. The dirt had been washed away in small trails where her tears were left in her wake. An amethyst eye looked me up and down, no doubt disturbed by my appearance. I wasn't the most eye-catching man. My face and body were riddled with scars from my childhood before I had accepted my dragon. These all healed independently, even though my childhood friend tried to help reduce the scarring. Razak nudged my hand again with his snout, pushing me forward, but my eyes remained on the one amethyst eye staring back at me. If we were to get anywhere, I would have to make the first move. Showing this creature, I meant no harm would be difficult. Slowly, I took off my bag and leather straps bound to my chest. It had many knives, spear tips, and rope to help pick up game. The eye watched me intently as I threw it away from me. All that was left of me was the waterskin on my hip and my leather pants made from a wild bear. Another hand gripped the trunk until finally, another eye appeared. One was beautiful, but now both looked back at me with an intensity that would sear into my soul until the day I died. It was a girl, a tiny girl, but what species she was, I couldn't be sure. Not siren, not werewolf, nothing that I have ever seen or smelled. Her smell continued to be blown in my direction, and by the gods, I swear they were trying to draw her to me. My thoughts went to my voice; if I spoke, it would do nothing but scare her. Even Razak couldn't take my brutal voice. If I could have gone back in time to fight for my voice, I would. To be sure, I would have my voice to meet the girl with amethyst eyes and bring her safety. I would have fought harder for her. Razak became impatient, trotting up to the girl, and she ducked her head back in the hole. He was too quick and licked the side of her cheek. A squeak left her lips, but she realized he wasn't going to hurt her. Her head poked out again, and she looked at me. Razak, my old friend, was going to help. Squatting to the ground, I held out my hand. I was too far away to touch her, not that she would let me. She glanced at Razak, asking for permission until he licked her cheek again. A slight smile, showing some of her blunt teeth, showed through. She wasn't an animal shifter then. She squeezed out of the hole ever so slowly, wearing nothing but purple rags. At one time, they looked expensive. Purple was a hard color to come by in this land, even to the south of us. Where could she have come from? Once she squeezed out of the hole, she pressed her ankle while she winced. It was doubled in size of the other.  Her body was covered in mud from the night before, and her hair was matted. Breathing ragged, she huddled her legs closer to her body to protect herself. Shivering, she rubbed her body up and down with her hands. "You won't hurt me, will you?" Voice still faint, I shook my head slowly. I must treat her like a newborn fawn, with slow and steady movements. Her body relaxed, Razak nuzzled closely to her thigh, licking the mud from her leg. Scratches littered her body, and there was a mixture of old and new blood on her body. The overwhelming need to take care of her was strong, a feeling I had never felt before. I knew she could not be my mate, however. All the elders had spoken of this many times to my mother and me. I was conceived without a bond; I was conceived of rape. My mother should have gotten rid of me, fed me to the wild, but she didn't have it in her heart. Her tender soul couldn't do it after the many warnings and was chastised for many moons; maybe I inherited her compassion for those hurting. Keeping my crouch low, I approached slowly. The fawn's weary eyes never left me while I came closer. Her body was shivering in the cold, and I cursed myself for not bringing a cloak to wrap her in. The water skin attached to my side was untied in an instant; I put it to my lips to show a drinking motion and handed it to her. I was still an arm away, and she showed no signs of distress. My efforts were rewarded as she gripped it and closed her lips around it. While she drank, I looked at her ankle; she wouldn't be able to walk on it. Scratches from an animal ran up her leg. It had crusted over, but it was at risk for infection. She wasn't healing like the people of this land usually do. She was without an animal inside her, like a hollow shell. Using rudimentary techniques, I would have to use roots and herbs to clean it. Taking the water skin from her lips, she looked back at me and put it into my calloused hands. She didn't hold the fear like many of the other dragon whelps did. Many held fear in their eyes, hearing legends of my temper, strength, and brutality to those against me. This little fawn looked at me like any other person. For the first time in many years, the worry of scaring another, especially someone as sweet as this innocent girl, dwindled. "C-can you tell me where I am?" Her eyes lit up, the light sources hit them at an angle you could see the sparkle reflect from the iris mimicking the whisps of the forest. Shaking my head, my hand goes to my neck where the massive scar lay. Could I speak to her? I could, my dragon could force its vocal cords to open; the harshness would be too much for her delicate creature. I couldn't scare her; it would break my heart into pieces if it did. "Oh," her head bowed. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean..." Razak licked the fawn's cheek, releasing a giggle. "Can you tell me if I am in America?" America? I had never heard of such a place. Not unless it was the realm of the humans. A land where most of the humans resided before all the supernaturals were created this world by the gods. Dragon shifters stay away from the world of Earth. Many moons ago, young dragons were hunted by men and praised by taking down newly shifted dragons. They could never take down a full-grown shifter, just the ones who had not been trained to fight.  The gods saw the wickedness of their ways and created this world, Bergarian. Filled with supernaturals that were in body like the humans but gifted powers such as shifting, magic, and other abilities. Not only that, but elves, fairies, whisps, and many other creatures moved here to be protected. Could this little fawn be from that world? What is she doing here? Before shaking my head, no, the woman I have dubbed the name Fawn rested her head against the tree. Her eyes had shut while Razak frantically paced and whined. Our most regular morning and now turned into one of new beginnings.

Chapter 3 Fawn

Creed Fawn's eyes closed delicately while I stared at her longingly. When was the last time I had been this close to another being? I couldn't remember the last time I touched any other living them besides killing for food, fighting for gold, or defending myself. This woman is helpless, and she shows no fear in my disfigured body. This wasn't her world; she was stuck in a land where this was nothing but fairy tales to her. A strong feisty spirit must inhabit her body to have kept her alive this long. The journey into the mountains is not an easy one.  There were rumors that humans had started to come into Bergarian; mates were being found by the different species. All the humans had come in willingly. However, this girl did not. She was forced; the anger built up inside me as I watched her sleep. Her body was tiny, obviously starved, and given just enough food to survive for whatever purpose she was obtained for. I prayed to the gods that it was nothing too terrible. The way she ran, I believe it was appalling. Picking up my leathers, bag, and game, I came back to her; I couldn't very well leave her here out in the open; I had a responsibility to take care of her. My dragon even agreed, blowing smoke in my ear that this one was special. Special to me, how? I wasn't even sure. My dragon huffed again in my ear; he liked her spirit; she wasn't afraid. Whether it be my face or false reputation, the pixies that tend to nature were fearful of me. That was saying a lot because they could be relatively dense of things. Razak sniffed her hair, no doubt because she does smell of the wet soil and grime from the days of her travel. One arm under her legs and one behind her back, I cupped her head, so it laid on my hairy chest. Soft pants of her breath tickled me while her warm face nestled closer to me. Instantly I felt her warmth, a feeling I hadn't felt since my very own mother was taken from me by the gods. My nose immediately went into her hair; I shouldn't be doing this, she is not mine, but my dragon demands it. A soft moan left her lips as her cheek warmed my breast. Clicking my cheek to Razak, we headed back to the cave. No longer looking for game but going back to take care of a human. Passing by a nearby stream, I trudged through the water instead of jumping over, making sure she would stay dry and not wake her.  The tatters in her dress drug behind restlessly while picking up the pace. The cave was the same as I left it; upon entering, the cool breeze that came from it gave Fawn a chill on her skin. The caked mud and dirt would have to be cleaned, her wounds tended to, and food in her belly once she woke. Gently laying her in my nest of furs, I make sure she is comfortable, so I may strip of my leather straps, weapons, and prey. The rabbit would make a fine stew with the stone fruit I had gathered but a week ago. Walking further back into the cave, I light the way with a series of torches. This mountain held many secrets, one of which I found the day I moved out of the tribe. This cave keeps me warm in the winter and cools in the summer because of the spring that hides within. Feeling the waters is warm, the perfect temperature to help bathe her to get her clean. Razak's head poked around the rock, studying me, tilting his head in confusion since I left the little Fawn on my bed. Did he really think I would leave her to bathe myself? I scoffed, petted his head, and came back to her. Her body was the same I left it; her exhaustion from her journey had weakened her body. My dragon growled at that. Fresh furs were pulled from large baskets I had to weave with my own hands. Something a woman does, but when one doesn't have the gold, you learn to make due. The fresh furs will be placed on the bed once she is fully clean. Picking her up once more, I take her back to the hot spring. The steam rose steadily, the torchlight setting off our shadows on the wall. Her body unconsciously clung to mine; in a way, I felt a reasonable satisfaction in that. My dragon purred in my chest; it was deep, heavy with resonance. Wanting to rub my chest, to calm my beast, I shook my head to keep him at bay. Fawn was trusting me in sleep even when my dragon called to her. Entering the small pool, keeping my leather leggings on my body relaxed. It came just up to my hips while standing. Sitting down lower, her body was submerged in the water while I kept her head afloat. The mud melted away from her snow-white skin, yet scars appeared on her body. The soil had covered her body, hidden the memories of what she had been through. Dots on her arms, like teardrops, littered her left and right arms. Glancing at her neck, I sighed in relief. The holes in her arm were vampires; luckily, no one had sexually used her. She may or may not have survived the ordeal. Either way, the emotional trauma afterward would have broken her. Judging by her attire, she ran just in time. My chest tightened at the thought of something happening to her; taking a woman by force was a despicable thing. Frowned on in the entire realm. Each royal family deemed it worthy of death by public execution. My grip tightened, the thought of someone touching her. I used the lythe soap from one of the storage baskets. It was odorless, but it would get the job done. Since her ankle was broken, Fawn would need some time to heal. My chest feels burdened; what if she decides I am a monster too? Her once beautiful gown hung by mere threads. I couldn't very well leave it on her body. Conflicted, I raised a claw and tore the tattered material away. Nudity was common in the shifter world, and it did not bother me. I had seen many women shifters and their parts. With Fawn being human, I'm not sure how she will react. Keeping my mind on the task at hand, I steadied her in my arms and washed her hair, using the best oils I had. If she decides to stay with me, I will get her better ones. Once satisfied, Razak grabbed a large blanket, dragging it to the edge so I could cover her. Her body shone like the blue moon against the firelight; the scars on her body could not taint her beautiful skin. To me, she was the most beautiful woman I had ever encountered. If only she could be mine. Razak pulled the dirty furs from my nest as the ever grateful companion. Laying out a few layers with Fawn in the crook of my arm, I laid her gently. Drying her hair and face, I took a closer inspection at the scratches. None of them were as fierce as the claw marks on her leg and her broken ankle. Tutting, I find old cloths to warp the ankle tightly to help keep the swelling down. The large scratch on her leg was from a vampire, no doubt. It was probably an attempt to run away, which is a good thing she did. Otherwise, I would have never met the little Fawn. Spreading my healing salve I use for accidental burns, she moved her leg slightly. Backing up slowly,  I grabbed one of my oversized white tunics. It was far too large for her, but I did not want her to be startled by her naked appearance once she woke. Moving her carefully, I placed the tunic on her and pulled the furs up to her neck. Sighing contentedly, I appreciate the work I have done for her. My heart raced, thinking that maybe she would want to stay with me. Be a friend, someone to communicate with. I would protect her and keep her safe from whoever might hunt her. Once she is comfortable with me, I could use my voice. My dragon's voice. I rubbed my neck; the scar was leathery, hard, and tough. Different than the rest of my skin. "Come on, Creed, can't spar with your brother?" Adam's voice rang through my ears. Adam was 10 while I was 11 years old and not ready to receive our dragons. Our bodies were still weak. We were still trying to become strong, so our dragons would be pleased with the body they inhabited. My eyes instantly brightened hearing my half-brother call me his actual brother and not the 'unfortunate mistake.'  I took the timid route with him, not showing my true strength because he would find it threatening. He would be alpha one day, not me. Yet, me being his brother from another man still posed a threat to him. I crouched to a defensive position, waiting for my brother to pounce until mother called for me. Her voice rang out like elven harps during Feasting Season. Before my voice could ring out to her call, a sharp claw ran right down my face and to my throat. The lashes became more brutal, hitting my throat harshly. Screaming was difficult; the blood spread to my throat. Gurgling a, 'stop,' and 'please help,' the lashing ceased. My 'brother' stood over me. His clawed hand dripped with my blood. The smirk on his face died when mother's footsteps pounded the dirt. "Mom! I'm sorry! My claws came out!" Fake tears ran down his face. My hand gripped my throat to stop the bleeding. Mother screamed in agony. Her knees hit the dirt, trying to take her skirt to wipe away the blood. Elders ran from the huts; some tried to console Adam while the healers tended to me. Adam was ushered away while I lay in the dirt. Being lifted from the ground, the world around me began to dim. The blood splattered to the ground. Mother's hand was gripped tightly in mine before I fell asleep. "How did this happen?" My mother's angry voice floated through my ears. My eyes had felt heavy, with all my might, I tried to open them, but I was nothing but weak. "Your son, Adam. His dragon is starting to appear, his claws came out unexpectedly," one of the elders spoke lowly. "That's nothing but fairy dung. That doesn't happen on a whim like that. There is pain involved when you first shift any part of your body. How could he just 'accidentally' swipe Creed?" Mother's breath was breathing heavily; the sulfur could be smelled on her breath. Her dragon had always been very protective of me, even if I was considered a mistake. "He is an alpha; it is very well it could have happened. Adam is strong." Heat filled the room; my mother's dragon was coming forth. She was strong, maybe stronger than her Alpha mate. She was an orphan, and no one knew the true origin of her parents. Mother kept that part secret; she didn't want to cause rumors or doubt in her mate's tribe. "All I am saying. It was a mistake," the elder stated flatly. "What's done is done. Creed will heal, but it will take time. Now let me tend to him; I will come to get you as soon as I am done stitching him." Mother patted my forehead, kissing it gently. An unfamiliar rumble purred in my chest. Stopping for a moment, she whispered in my ear. "Heal swiftly, my little dragon, so you may fly amongst the gods." Another tender kiss landed on my brow. My hand went to reach for her, but my body protested. Rubbing the scar, I cleared my throat. Razak patted the floor with his slinky tail while he gazed on Fawn. Her face was so angelic, while mine was like a hideous monster. She would not want to stay here to hide. She will want to leave, go back to her Earth life. I'll do my best to do what she wishes. Take her back to the Earth realm, or have her stay here even if it isn't with me. My dragon wouldn't have anything less.

Chapter 4 Blood Bag

Odessa's POV 6 Months Ago "I'm so sorry for your loss," the nurse handed me the final paperwork while I sat in my father's room. My father was connected to life support, tubes coming out of his arms, chest, and mouth. He didn't even look the same anymore. There was no light in his eye, no golden glow on his skin. He had been here way too long, and his beard was tangled in the wires. The few longing tears dripped down my face. Dad's body was still warm, the machine did its job, but unfortunately, his mind couldn't keep up. Cancer had gripped hold of him, taking him by the neck and strangling the life out of him. It came hard and fast, already flowing in the bloodstream. My father, John Durham, was a writer. He never made much money, but he did what he loved. I admired that about him. He took a second job just to raise me when my mother left us both in the cold. She had become mystified with the thoughts of magic, realms, crystals, and the sort. She got intermingled with a group of women who believed in that sort of thing, and the rest was history. I was too young to understand; I didn't even remember the sound of her voice or the look of her eyes. Dad never mentioned her, not even a picture laid in our home with her in it. He had long lost her once she turned her backs on us. Dad just continued with his writing, and the weekends he spent at the bar, bartending. Now that I was older, I felt like I needed to stay with him. He had no one, his parents died long ago, and he was an only child. I loved him; I swore I would never love a man as much as my own father. Not in that sick romantic way, just a way that a daughter could only love a father. Not once did he raise his voice at me; he always explained my punishments when I was a child. I wrote my emotions, and it became an extraordinary skill to learn. I took up his passion and began writing my own books. Dad liked the action, adventure, and sci-fi novels while I geared towards romance. The type of romance that doesn't exist in this world. The kind of romance that will never exist to any woman, the kind that makes you sick with longing. My dad believed in love once, and look where it got him? I loved to imagine the perfect man. Doing creative writing exercises was always fun; the perfectly handsome man falls for the nerdy girl and teaches her about life. Yeah, that kind of romance. That sort of thing doesn't exist. Gazing at my father one last time, I notice his gaunt cheeks. It wasn't him; his spirit was no longer there. He told me not to cry the day before he landed here. He said I wasn't allowed to and that death was the next great adventure. I only laughed at him, telling him I wouldn't. It was a lie. I cried like a baby when he gasped for breath. Now we are on day four, and there is no hope for him to return to me. Rubbing his hands once more, the nurses quietly walk in. One with a paper in hand for the death certificate, even though we all know his mind is gone. The nurse nodded to me, asking if I wanted to press the button to turn the machine down. I shook my head sadly, kissing my father's cheek. The room grows dark. The nurses call out the time, and I grab the bill that I know I will never be able to pay. Despite the storm growing inside me, the weather was sunny. If only some sort of deity could realize what a terrible day it was and reflect my mood with the weather. Crossing my arms, I decide to walk back home. I needed all the money I could get; saving fifty bucks and walking it sounded like a good idea. My steps continued to be heavy; I stopped paying attention to the noises around me. It was just me, my thoughts, and the heartache. To lose a father and have it hurt this much, how would it be for one of my characters to lose a loved one? I've never been one to write a tragedy, but with my mood, it might be time for one. All the manuscripts sitting in my room still sit. All of them are happy-loving endings. Adding a random book of tragedy didn't seem too bad. I pull my bag over my shoulder. Gripping it tightly, I pass by a darkened alleyway. A flick of glitter was thrown in the street. Stopping, I glance down at the sidewalk. I thought it was glitter; it was just here. Glancing down the alley, I saw nothing. My mind was playing tricks, my emotions were churned in my chest, and now it was playing with my head. I'm getting sucked into one of my father's fantasy worlds. The flick of glitter slung out at my feet again. Pulling out my cell phone, I turned on the light. Nothing was in the immediate area where glitter could be thrown out. Behind a trashcan, there could be something, maybe a child trying to start trouble. Walking three feet in, moving the can, a creature that could only be created by my sorrow stood flicking his wings. He was small, with dark hair and clothing to match his wings. I rubbed my eyes; indeed, I was dreaming. Smelling too much disinfectant was messing with me. Little rings floated about my ears. The little fairy turned, showing off a pair of dark wings. It was completely black except for tanned skin. Backing away, I knew this had to be trouble. You don't just walk into an alley, and a creature that is so out of this world is friendly to you. It was the classic trope for a novel. Backing away, not looking, keeping my eyes glued to him, so it did not jump me in surprise, I bump into a soft body. Gasping, I turn to find a woman dressed in a dark purple cloak. Hands were hidden, but the look on her face was familiar. Her eyes, they were like mine. Purple in color. "It's been a long time," the youthful hand reaches for my cheek. The voice was deep and sultry, the epitome of beauty. "You look just like him. Except for your eyes." Her fingers trail my cheek, too stunned to move. "W-who are you? How do you know me?" Her dark red lips curved to a smile. "Figured he wouldn't keep a picture of me. Why would he when you have my eyes looking into his soul every day?""Y-you are my mother?" My hand slapped my chest. She had been gone for so long. If I ever met her, the questions I had were all written in a notebook, one so carefully tucked away under my pillow. My heart knew never to ask my dad about her, but she was here. Why did she leave me? Leave us? "Why did you leave? Why are you back?" The questions poured from my mouth like lava. They were hot, almost hurtful. I had just lost my father only to gain a lost mother who may or may not have good intentions. Scratch that; she does not have good intentions. Her relaxed posture only prickled my skin in irritants. This woman had left me, just a baby, and she dared show up... now. "I'm here because I need to pay my debt," she roamed her gaze to the streets outside. Little children giggled at the park across the street; street vendors were selling food, trinkets, and the like. All of those things were more important to look at than the daughter right in front of her. "If you are looking for money, I haven't got any. In fact, I need money." Shuffling my bag over my shoulder, I went to leave only to have the little dark fairy pull at my leg. My mother huffed, her shoes clicked towards me. "Money?" she scoffed. "If only it were that simple, but unfortunately, payment is collected in another way where I live now." Her index finger brushed my jaw. The long painted claw nicked my chin. I pushed her away harshly. "You will be able to pay your debt with your body." Jumping away harshly, strode back to the light, away from the alley only to be jerked around by an invisible hand. "Now hold still, I've got just enough for one last trip," she severely spoke while a green sphere collected in her hand. My eyes dazed, watching the orb dance in her hand, she threw it above us only to blind me. Darkness fell upon me while I shielded my eyes until I heard the soft songs of chirping. The rough hand was gone from my arm. I was stranded in a forest with my mother, nowhere to be found. My bag hung loosely at my shoulders while I turned to gaze in wonder. The sky was not the usual blue but that of deep purples, blues, and shades of pink. Small forest creatures, rabbits, chipmunks ran up the stump of trees while I stared absentmindedly. How did she get me to some random forest? Trees swaying, the light was blocked by a shadow hovering over me. The warm air suddenly felt cold while I clutched to my bag. Gradually turning was none other than a random passerby, or so I thought. "Greetings," the man spoke. His skin was flawless, not a scratch or raised indention, freckles, or moles on his body. Angelic was the term I would use, but the darkness I felt standing before him was anything but. Hair was in a perfect place; not a single strand hung over his brow. "You must be Odessa," his hand reached out to shake mine; reluctantly, I followed, watching him with wary eyes. Hands were colder than mine, but it was nothing but a summer day here. If I was to be debt repayment, or so my mother says, he could be the one looking for me, and I have just made a grave mistake while I was lost in my thoughts.  "How do you know my name?" The man chuckled, now roughly grabbing my wrist, tying it together. Yep, made a wrong move. My bag fell from my shoulder while I wrestled him. "Hey, let go!" I tried to pull my arm again, but his grip was more potent than that of my own father, and he was pretty intense. "Rayvenn Hart is your mother, correct?" I bit my tongue, not wanting to speak another word to this man. He tugged tighter on the ropes while I continued to pull. "Rayvenn Hart had a debt to pay; the payment was her firstborn child." A smirk played on his lips as he tugged me forward. "You belong to the Duke now, one of his blood bags.""B-blood bags?" I squealed. "There must be some mistake! What are you talking about?" Pulling again, I only landed back on my behind. Heat entered into the man's tone, growling at my defiance. His teeth became the focal point because now I was staring at two very sharp fang-like teeth inches from my face. Surely not. This can't be happening. "There is no mistake," he seethed. "Your mother sold you so she could become a witch of a worthless coven, and now here you are. Her own flesh and blood sold for slaughter." My eyes shut, body shook uncontrollably. My own lips began to tremble while he laughed. "Don't worry, you won't die right away. You have many years of pleasing him, a fresh young thing like you. Who knows, you might get lucky and be a pleasure, mate. Then you can really live the high life for a time.""No!" I screamed, pulling at the ropes; it was a fruitless endeavor. He dragged me with such force my own pants began to rip on the roots below. Barely breaking a sweat, he pulled me to my feet. "I suggest you play along like a good blood bag; you will last longer. Maybe get out on good behavior when your blood begins to sour." How could she? How could my own mother sell me to a vampire? That is what he was, right? Vampires had teeth, large fangs that sucked the blood of humans. They were to be nothing but monsters to frighten children and keep them out of the dark at night, but this, this man was anything but a man. He was a monster, and there were more of them. I was to be used, and from the sounds of it, I would be used for many years. They will suck me dry only to keep me alive long enough to fill their stomachs again. Trying not to bite my lip, my lip wiggled in despair. Dark clouds filled my mind. My life was great, my father loved me, and I loved him. He homeschooled me, kept me happy, showed me how to navigate life. So many fun-filled vacations learning about my country, and it was all for nothing. I wouldn't be able to see any of it again. I stumbled to my feet but quickly fell again. My knees were scraped, and hints of metallic blood hit the air. A large breath came from the vampire in front of me. My heart stopped, clutching my knees so I could somehow hide the smell. His back turned, "My name is Master Enoch; you will regard me as such. We will be seeing much more of each other," he smirked.

Chapter 5 His Cave

Odessa The clinking of utensils startled me. "Dad?" I whisper. I rubbed my cheek against the pillow when it dawned on me that dad isn't here anymore; he's gone. In fact, I wasn't at home at all and was stuck in a tree running from the Duke. Whatever my cheek was rubbing against is so soft, so warm. It feels like the fur of an animal. My eyes didn't blink open slowly; they darted open was an intensity my lashes almost fell off. My back was turned to whatever was making small noises on the other side. My face stared into a rock wall; to the touch, it was cold and smooth. The light was dim, not bright in the slightest. Flames of a fire flickered my body's shadow on the wall. Was I in a cave? Rolling my body slowly to not be heard was a bit difficult. My ankle throbbed and, with the shift of blankets and pillows, it jostled the bandages into the wrong position. The bed was enormous, large furs covered the entire area, and I was raised high above the ground, a good three feet. These had to be bear furs because of their massive size. Some had patterns I was unfamiliar with. Petting them with my hand and finally lifting it up to look underneath, I see that I am no longer dirty or in my purple nightgown. I pushed the furs back on my body. Someone changed me. They saw me naked. I shrugged my shoulders. Six months ago, I would find it downright appalling, humiliating, and degrading. It was, still is, but you must become numb to those sorts of travesties.  This was just to clean me, though. At least, I hoped that is what my saviors' intentions were. I didn't feel anything different in my private areas. Just the bumps and bruises from running. The large area was indeed a cave. It was one massive room with a small leather skin covering the other end of the cave. The other side, I guessed, was where we came in. A tiny bit of light highlighted one side of the cave. A table and one single chair were opposite of me. Pitchers of water, leather straps, bandages, berries, and salves littered the table. Whoever was taking care of me was meticulous of their work area. Everything this person owned in this cave had its place. Weapons hung close to the entryway, bags, leathers, clothes all piled nicely on top of each other in large woven baskets. The cave had a nice shelf on the opposing wall. Vegetables of potatoes, carrots, and berries lay there. My wandering eyes became comfortable only for the drop of a metal skillet on the cave floor to throw harsh sounds my way. Covering my ears and eyes for a few seconds, I opened them again. I gulped, feeling the heated gaze of someone staring at me. It was none other than the Viking I saw earlier when I shamelessly fell asleep by the tree trunk I crawled out of. His eyes were dark, compelling, and magnetic as he looked at me. He was holding a bowl, steaming with something inside, and my stomach automatically growled at me to reach for it. I rubbed it, mentally telling my stomach to calm down. My ankle is broken or really sprained.  If I was scared enough to flee, I wouldn't be able to, but weirdly enough, I wasn't. This Viking Prince Charming had brought me here and cleaned me; maybe he was being nice? Surely, he wouldn't bring me here to kill me; then again, he might want other things. I gulped harshly. Changed my mind. Scared now. His steps were slow coming towards me, and he squatted to his legs on the floor beside the bed. We were now eye-level, and it made me feel a bit more equal he would think to do that. To make me feel like an equal rather than to be looked down upon. I have had way too much of feeling inferior lately. Not only that, but he was also bringing me food. Food that I really wanted and needed. Dark eyes looked into mine; they were full of life, pain, and unquenchable warmth. Looking past his scary appearance, my mood softened. His large hands cupped the entirely too small of a bowl for his massive hands. It was a stew with meat, potatoes, and carrots. It smelled better than anything I had eaten in the past half a year. "F-for me?" I muttered. His lips tried to smile, but all I got was a crooked line and some wrinkles around his eyes. I wanted to giggle at him; he wanted to make me feel comfortable. He didn't make me feel scared, for now. Taking the bowl from him, the spoon sat helplessly at the edge. Prince Charming, the name I had unofficially named him for saving me from the woods, watch me. I blew on the bowl to cool it and finally took a sip. It tasted amazing. It warmed and filled my stomach to the brim; I even drank down the entire bowl once I had finished the hunks of meat. Prince charming's lip curled on one side of his face when he took it from me. Another bowl was poured, and he continued to move in slow, calculating moves crouching beside my bed. "This is so good," I smiled at him. "Aren't you going to eat?" He shook his head, pointed to the bowl, and then to my mouth. He made this for me? I blush involuntarily, feeling a little flustered. This man saved my life, brought me to his cave, and fed me food in his bed. And he saw me naked. My thoughts of not being embarrassed were erased when the idea of him seeing me naked surfaced. I got used to it with the vampires, but he was different. What if he saw my scared body? "Did you, um, dress me?" Prince Charming's tanned face turned a ruddy red as he abruptly stood up and turned his back to me. Was he blushing? Was he afraid I was going to yell or scream at him? His back was tensed, the tattoos that adorned his body rippled over his skin. Tattoos of fighting dragons, wolves, and bears decorated his back. If you looked close enough, you could see scars underneath. He was hiding scars like I had. "Wait," I put my hand out, trying to reach him. "I'm not mad," I whispered. His back turned back to me, keeping his feet in place. "T-thank you. You really patched me up well." His mouth tried to move again for a smile, but the scar prevented him from showing me his white teeth. I wanted him to talk, but the massive spot around his neck was going to keep him from doing that. We had to find a way to communicate. I didn't know how long he would let me stay here. "My name is Odessa," I pointed to myself. "What's your name?" Obviously, he couldn't tell me, but maybe he had it written somewhere. Who knows if we share the same alphabet, but he understood my English quite well when I asked if I was in America. Prince charming sighed heavily and shook his head. "Can you write it down?" He shook his head again. He was in a rudimentary cave; he may not have learned how to read or write. The thought paralyzed me in fear. That was all I ever did. I wrote and read and he didn’t have any of those things. "Well, I can't call you big boy now, can I?" I gave a giggle which his eyes lit up in surprise, and he shook his head. "Do I come up with a name for you?" He blew some air through his nose, his brows furrowed. He didn't like the idea, but I can't call him, "hey you!" I scratched my chin, thinking carefully. "I'll call you Prince Charming, Prince for short," I decided. He had rescued me from the tree, cleaned me, fed me, and given me a bed to sleep in. I felt like he did nothing but save the defenseless woman. He had a heart of gold; I almost felt it. Prince's hips bent over while he held his sides. His voice let out a cough-growl noise, and his mouth opened wide. Laughing! He was laughing. The loudness of his voice caught me off guard, it was deep and guttural, and the animal by the bed took cover under the table. The fuzzy creature didn't like it. My smile, watching both Prince and his pet hurt my face. I don't remember the last time I had smiled; these muscles haven't been used in so long. Touching my lips, I patted it, feeling the slightly chapped lips of my skin. Things were going to be alright. From here on out, they would be. Once I was healed, I'd find a new home in this strange place. I wouldn't be able to rely on Prince for so long. Prince came back up to me, his hand almost shaking. His eyes were even a bit glassy. Pointing to my hand with his heavily calloused one, I nodded. I lifted it and placed it in his. Rough fingertips brushed against my palm. It was soothing, warm, and had a hint of tingle. His eyes stared, fascinated with it, but I couldn't see what was so amazing. "I have four fingers and a thumb, same as you," I spoke, but his thoughts were elsewhere. He was a beast. His body was immense; he may stand close to seven feet tall. Along with his tattooed skin, it was different. It looked hard, not just with muscles; it was a thick skin, lizard-like, almost scaly, just like when you don't put on enough lotion in the wintertime. His tattoos hugged his body; many did, in fact, cover large holes, lines, and bites. He must be a great hunter to withstand some of these wounds. My fingers absentmindedly trailed one of his deep scars, hidden beneath the ink of his skin. Prince's body stiffened, sucking a breath in. I should stop, but my hand had a mind of its own. It traced his pectoral muscle, going upwards around his shoulder and then to his neck. The scar was huge; he shouldn't have survived such an attack, whatever it was. It was deep; his swallowing motions were labored while he watched me. Prince hadn't pushed me away while I continued to trace right to his lip. His face was bronzed with the wind and sun when he looked down at me. There were unspoken words between us. A mutual understanding. At the same time, I had traced his scars, he was touching my hand and my arm. His finger was touching each one of the vampire marks on my skin. It hurt to know they were there; I assumed Prince thought the same when I traced my finger across his chest and face. "I think you have been through more than I have," I whispered. "Are you alright now? Does it hurt?" He shook his head. Beginning to take my hand down, he gently took it in his and put it back to his face, cupping his cheek. The eyes that I thought to be once dark were deep rustic honey. This man was lonely; he didn't have anyone. I knew what that felt like, but he had felt it much longer than I have. The warmth of his hand calmed me until we heard a growl from his furry pet. Prince stood up hurriedly and clicked his tongue several times. The beast darted down the dark cave until I couldn't hear the patter of his feet hitting the cave floor. Prince wistfully grabbed a spear and knife; his movements were light and swift as he hung his leather bag across him. He raced to me much faster than I anticipated and fell back into the bed. His eyes held so much emotion and worry, he gently pulled me back to sitting. Checking for anything wrong with me, he looked out the dark cave and pointed. "You're going out?" Nodding, he put the blankets up to my chin, tucking me in like a child. I wanted to laugh, except his motions' urgency didn't deem that appropriate. His hands were palm down, and he repeated the pushing down motion. "You want me to stay?" I questioned. Nodding his head, he looked back down the cave. "I'll stay. Can't go anywhere anyway," I wiggled my toes. His eyes wrinkled around his eyes. Smiling, I thought. He was smiling. Prince Charming dashed down the hallway. Not a sound left his body, even with his spear and knife in hand. He was deathly quiet, like an animal. How far back did this cave actually go?

Chapter 6 Yellow Cress Root

Creed My little Fawn told me her name, Odessa. Sweet sounding like the sirens of the blue waters of the East. Her laugh was inviting. Everything about her was perfect. If I was allowed to have a mate, it would be her. The epitome of perfection. My dragon thought so while she stroked our scars. Her fingers trembled at first, but as I relaxed, her fingers radiated warmth. My dragon purred silently, not to scare her. She didn't know what I was; once she did, would she leave? She commented on her scars while we both traced each other's hardships. Odessa remained light and airy, pushing the memories away. My dragon was only outraged at the thought of someone hurting her. Razak's growl was a good distraction; any longer, I was afraid my beast would rear his ugly head. Razak is a quiet creature when in the cave. It is his home and solitude. I taught him that when he was just a kit, he should respect the home or spend his nights outside the cave. It happened once and never again. One night alone was enough to reverse his behavior. His growl could only mean someone was at the front entrance of the cave. Even with my excellent hearing, I was distracted. I was listening to Odessa's breathing, checking for any rattles in her lungs. She had spent many days running; I know that now. Looking closely at her arm, I can certainly tell she was not just a blood bag for a vampire but for multiple vampires. Arms were littered in tares. I had hoped against it, that she was fed on just by a rogue family, but this was extensive scarring. Not only that, they were rough with her, violent. The rips in her skin, her biceps, and her legs were full of gashes. Not once did they use their venom to help heal her. She may have bled for hours afterward because they didn't seal the wound. My grip tightened on my spear, running down the passage until I hit the gate. Razak was pulling, trying to get free on his own. Pulling it forward to leave, my mind continued to race back to Odessa. If I was to fight any intruder, I needed her off my mind, but my dragon wouldn't allow it. He forced her face into my line of vision, unable to forget each curve of her cheek tear-stained cheek from two days ago. Odessa should fear me, but her fingers traced my scars without fear. Above anything, she should fear me. I was grotesque. She didn't fear the monster, the exiled. Odessa took me as I was, just another ordinary person, making my dragon purr. He wanted to feel included, to find a mate, but that was next to impossible. This had to be reminded to him daily; no woman would ever come to love a monster, not one that was born out of a bond. We were cursed and doomed because our mother couldn't take our lives once we were birthed. Mother thought she did us a favor, perhaps not. My dragon's fangs leaked its venom. He had an attraction to Odessa, that was certain. He stirred every time she touched me. The hand that she let me nestle into my scarred face was proof of the warmth he craved. Odessa was everything we were not. Soft, small, warm as the two light sources in the sky, yet she was strong. She fought against many to be able to run to the mountains and just a human at that. Fearless, she was fearless. My steps were hurried once the light hit my feet. Razak growled immediately, running around the bend of the cave. There stood two dark fairies. They were a rare sight to see, only coming out of the Southern Dark Wood to try and find their mates or to do bidding for vampires who are not allowed in the Northern mountains. These fairies were in the enlarged form. Usually, fairies stand a foot tall, but using the bit of magic they have, they can remain taller for several hours of the day. "Hello there," one spoke. His hands raised, showing no weapon. "We are searching for someone; we thought we caught her scent." My steps slowed, reaching the light, bracing my spear. The light hit my face while the fairies gasped in shock. If these were to be dark fairies and know the monsters of the night, then the monsters near their home must not be as shocking as me. Everyone is afraid. They will never know the real me by reputation or by my scars. They are too terrified to see the dragon that brought down ten fire breathers on their own. "It's Creed," one of them whispered to the other. The dark wings shook in fright. "We have to ask; we have to find her. The Duke is furious." My head tilted, my braids swayed to the left of my head when I approached. They both kneeled my mouth now in a thin line. "Please, don't hurt us," one shook. "We are looking for a girl, purple gown. It is the Duke's, future mate." My dragon didn't like it; he growled out of my mouth. The wind churned the leaves around them, knocking them over on their asses while my dragon snarled once more. Smoke infiltrated their lungs. "Leave," he spoke. "Come again, and you'll be minced meat." Smells of urine wafted in the air, both grabbing hold of each other like hatchlings in a storm. Smoke escaped from my nostrils; the faires couldn't fly due to their trembling; they lay sitting in their piss. "Please!" the one on the left yelled. Pulling the speaking one up with one arm, he choked, returning to his original form of just a tiny fairy. "P-please. We will leave. We thought we smelled her." Venom dripped from my fangs, brushing the scar on my lip. "You smelled wrong." My dragon spoke, the other hand gripped his wing, bending it in half vertically. Ear piercing scream scorched the air. My dragon closed our eardrums to not hear the pitiful cries. Once my hand let go, they scurried away, heading away from the cave and back down the mountain. My heart reverberated in my chest. Odessa needed to be protected. She had no clue what she was in for, running from a Duke of all people that wanted her for a mate? My dragon's tongue escaped my mouth, sniffing the air. It did smell like her. While she shook in the tree, she had no smell. It was void of anything alluring with the caked mud and sludge.  She had her own fragrance, a soft hint of citrus since her bath. Razak understood why I sniffed the air and began to follow. If a beast like him could smile, he would. He trotted back to the cave, waiting for me to follow, but I had other important things. Hiding the scent of Odessa so no other fairy or vampire could find her. She would hide within the walls of my cave until they stopped looking. And they would stop looking, for the plan I had would make them think she was dead. A Fernleaf Yellowcress was a plant that lived deep in the forest under wet and damp areas. Typically found in summer because of their love for humid climates, it would be difficult to find.  We were approaching winter; none would be around this mountain area. Once the Fernleaf Yellowcress is dried and ground into a fine powder, it can be spread around the primary source of the smell. She would be safe within ten wingspans. Many deer and bears rub the live plant into their furs to hide if they are lucky to know someone is hunting them. Dragons and a well-trained werewolf would be able to pick up Odessa's scent, but the vampires would not. Their smelling abilities were not as strong. Leaving Odessa now would be foolish. She is still weak, but this would prove to be a wise choice in the long run. I couldn't let the dark fairies return with more vampires. I was only one dragon; I could take them all, but what if one slipped by me and entered the cave? Odessa would be helpless. Razak's abilities next to a vampire were not up for the challenge. The quickest way to obtain the Yellowcress would be to fly to Moon Kingdom's market. Even there, I wasn't welcome. On top of it all, it would take me four hours round trip of flying. I wasn't prepared to do that in Odessa's state. Growling, Razak stepped away, whimpering.  His ears pricked back, and he walked into the cave. His safe place. Odessa's secure place. There was one place I could go, but it hurts to think of it. I only go when I am called for battle and protect the tribe. Coming without proper reason, Adam, my brother, would see it as a threat. Cracking my knuckles, I throw my weapons to the ground, stripping my leather bags from around my waist. My furry boots were thrown to the side. Calling upon my dragon, he releases a mighty roar while the dark smoke gusts around the air. Razak withdraws into the cavern protecting the most precious treasure. She was not my mate, but she was the closest I could consider one. If she could see past my scars, this face, and is willing to let me know her, that is all the love and companionship I would hope for. My black wings stretched, my hind legs bolted forward into the sky; I would arrive in a few minutes instead of the hour walk into the wood. Hopefully, Adam would be drunk or visiting the Moon Kingdom to notice my stealth around the tribe. Huts sat in a circle, the smoke trailing upwards from a large bonfire from the night before. Small male children run around with rocks and sticks, pretending to blow fire or ice. Quietly landing ten wingspans away, I changed back into my human appearance, securing my loincloth. Werewolves have it rough; they can shift quickly but are always naked. Primitive creatures in that aspect. Amora, my childhood friend, likes to stay in her tent mostly. She is loved by all, but even the elders talk about how she is not a dragon. Once Amora and Adam have children, they would either be a fairy or a dragon, with no mixing of the two. That was how the goddess had allowed mixed races to bond. So far, all mixed-race bondings had produced the opposite of what the dragon race needed. Female dragons. No female dragons in many blue moons had been born. The female dragon race was dying. All that was left now were males. Many moons ago, there was a tribal argument over mates. The dragon shifters at the time had low numbers of unmated female dragons. Each hatchling born had been male for many cycles of the moons. Many dragons wished to have chosen mates to expand the prospect of more female dragons. A deal was made with a neighboring tribe once the last 18-year-old female was of age. She was to be delivered the next sundown promptly, for her offspring would guarantee nothing but dragon hatchlings. Unfortunately for the male receiving the female, she found her true mate along the way to our tribe. A non-dragon. The selfish dragon held onto the agreement in his heart. He demanded that the female was his and the true mate bond didn't matter. He wanted his woman and bear him his children. There was no guarantee she would deliver more female dragons; his ignorance proved futile. A war broke out, many were lost, and with those dragons, my mother and father. The elders proclaimed that there had not been a battle so fierce for many centuries, but the hunt for women was becoming brutal. Women dragon shifters are now considered on the brink of extinction. Many would not find this disturbing in other races, have the men take up the shifter title and continue to mate with their true bonded mates. With dragons, it was different. Dragons were a different breed than most shifters. Without a female dragon, the magic will die in a few generations. There is no more fire, ice, or acid breathing, no more clothes to cover our bodies after a shift. Our bodies would break into pieces, just like any other shifter. Just a lizard with wings. Recently, there have been many mixes of species along with the lands. Sirens to faes, Elves to wolves, the list goes on. A true mate knows no species; the goddess Selene does not discriminate. In fact, my half-brother was the first dragon to accept a mate of another species. Amora was a kind fae; her family lived at the bottom of the Dragon Shifter's mountain and often visited to play with both of us. Adam swore to me that she should have been born a dragon, his love for her as children made me realize he could be the mate he had always wanted. But Adam was a jealous dragon. He envied the relationship I had with Amora. She was nothing but a sister to me, the only other person that would even speak to the product of rape. I was the outcast, the unloved one of the tribe. Amora didn't care; she cared for me like a sister to a brother. The day that my mother and stepfather died, the dynamic between all of us changed. Rumors spread that I should be the next Alpha of the tribe, but I was quickly shot down since my father, the Alpha of the tribe, did not sire me, even if his mate bore a child before their mating. I did not care for any of this; I wanted a peaceful life, stay out of the spotlight and get my own mate one day because I would wait for her. Even that was denied me. Small hums came within Amora's hut. The huts were small, built with sturdy mud and straw. Their ugly and weak appearance was only a mirage to the mear supernatural. On the inside, they were large and luxurious. Each dragon collects their own items they consider their treasure. Gold, silver, diamonds, rubies, much even barter to give their mates something beautiful. Amora was no different. Adam showered her with necklaces, rings, bracelets, and the best furniture in all the realm. I tapped the door with my middle finger twice. Amora's head shot up in surprise; a broad smile could be seen from the other side of the room. She lay her needle and leather down, running to me. "Creed, it is so good to see you!" With a kiss on the cheek, she pulled me inside. "You came at a good time; Adam isn't here. You can't stay long though, your scent will get everywhere." Amora grabbed a glass of wine from her table. "Drink this." I took it gladly; speaking to the dark fairies had only irritated my throat.  "What brings you here?" Taking the glass from my hand, she motioned for me to sit. I would have to use my dragon voice once again. It only startles her after many tries to speak to her when we were younger. "Yellowcress," I spoke. My voice rumbled in my throat like gravel as I tried to whisper. Her brows furrowed, not understanding. "You need Yellowcress?" I nodded. "What for?" I couldn't communicate well with Amora, but we had a few hand signals. I could also draw pictures, but it would take time. She reached for parchment paper and a quill, urging me to draw. Do I tell her about my Odessa? Would she be in danger? I do not want Amora to keep things from her mate; that wouldn't be honest. If Adam does return and asks specifically if I came, she wouldn't lie to him either. I shook my head, pushing the parchment back into her hands.

Chapter 7 Her beautiful Eyes

Creed Amora stood still, holding the parchment in mid-air. Her lips fell open, not understanding that I would not indulge in her questions. I couldn't, not with her mate. Adam had taken everything from me; did she not know that the dynamic between us had really changed? Sure, we were close. The best of friends, brother, and sister even. The day Adam ripped my throat, clawed my face, disfigured me entirely was the day I no longer trusted him. Once he and Amora became of age, I had not only lost my brother many years ago but now the sister I had gained. Adam kept her from me indefinitely. Shortly after, he had banned me from the tribe, saying a disgusting bastard like me caused too much distress in the tribe. The young children feared me only because of what they did not know. Gossip lies spread. Many were told the lies over and over until they took. I had my face ripped from Adam because I challenged him, that I wanted his place to be Alpha, the head dragon. Nothing was further from the truth, but all will believe a handsome face. I shook my head again at Amora, waving my hand. If she could not help me, I would not blame her. I asked much of her for the Yellowcress root; it was hard to come by. I took my journey to the door, only to be stopped with a hand on my shoulder. "I would always help my brother," her voice softened. "I know Adam has done you wrong, and for this, I cannot fully love him like he wants." Her head bowed, looking for anyone that might be listening. "But I do adore him the way he treats me. You are his half-brother, Creed. One day I hope both of you will get things resolved.  Adam won't be the bigger man about it, but one day, in my heart, I believe it will happen." My dragon growled. I would never trust Adam again, as much as Amora had hoped. Amora grabbed my hand and put a bag with powder inside in my hand. "Whatever you are hiding, I hope it makes you happy." She winked. Some faes had hidden powers, Amora had told me once before she could do light mind-reading. I prayed to the goddess she didn't know about Odessa. She was my secret to keep. I leaned down, pressing a kiss to her cheek. Amora's hand went over mine. "Let me know if you need anything else, brother." Giving her the best-forced smile I could, I returned to the wood to go home to my unique treasure waiting for me. … It was close to evening; the whisks had come out from their morning slumber. Whisks were troublesome creatures. They liked to play with a person's hair, pulling and tugging. Legends say they could lead you to your true fate. I wasn't for sure about that. They looked like mischief to me. Upon entering, Odessa lay where I left her. I did not mean to be gone so long, but she took it upon herself to get comfortable and sleep. Her breathing was no longer labored, and her heartbeat was beating steadily in her chest. Razak had climbed into the nest and curled up next to her. Once the beast saw his master, he jumped down quickly. No animal was to be in my nest. I was the only animal allowed, except for her. I'd be happy to give it up for her. My dragon agreed, purring too loudly. Odessa's body stirred, blinking her eyes. "Hey, Prince Charming" her voice was sleepy and only made me want to smile. Maybe one day, I'll use enough of my facial muscles and give her one. This Prince Charming name she has given me had to go. I was the furthest thing from a Prince. "Everything alright?" I stared at her, not sure how to act. It was hard when you couldn't speak and have difficulty moving your lips the way you wanted. I nodded, putting my weapons down. She would be hungry soon; I would need to feed her. "I hate to bother you," Odessa fiddled with the furs. She had braided a portion of the black lion fur she was nestled under. Three of the braids became loose while Odessa played with them mindlessly. She was embarrassed, and I didn't want her to be. Standing closer to her, I tilted her chin towards mine. I could get lost in her eyes. They weren't just amethyst; gold and silver flecks sparkled within. The fringe of her lashes cast shadows on her cheeks. "I kind of need to use the ladies' room," she whispered. Ladies room? I raised one of my brows in question. "To relieve myself?" Is she not comfortable? Too many seconds passed before she spat out: "I have to pee! Urinate!" Odessa slapped a hand over her mouth. My dragon huffed a rackety laugh; she did not flinch. Rubbing my chin in amusement, I pulled the blankets away. Her long porcelain legs, still riddled with scratches and scars, made my dragon growl again. "Do you have indigestion or something? You do that a lot?" I didn't know what this indigestion was, but if it was my dragon she was speaking of, then yes, I have a lot of indigestion. She giggled again when I picked her up. She wasn't afraid or looked away from my face. Her arms wrapped around my neck, pulling herself up. "Sorry, I'm heavy," I wanted to laugh again at her; could she not see the power in these arms? Maybe she didn't see me as powerful, which was why she wasn't afraid of me. I would have to work harder to show her my ability to keep her safe. Odessa When Prince Charming left the cave, I was worried for him. He went in such a rush for a brief moment I thought the vampires had found me.  The way he looked at my arms, his rough hands touched every single hole and rip in the skin. He knew what happened to me without me telling him. He wasn't some dumb barbarian; he had years of history himself all over him. The loud roar had me shaking into the blankets. It echoed into the cave, shaking the pitchers on the table, finally falling, making a splatter on the floor. I guess you couldn't say it made the floor dirty; it was a cave floor. Shortly after, the cat/dog beast came back. Jumping on the bed and curling up with me. I guess I have a new friend? I'm assuming it was a he; he pushed the furs over my body, trying to tuck me in. Was this saying everything was alright? I laid back on the piles of skins while Fluffy lay next to me. Yeah, I had to name him too. As much as I wanted to believe I was safe here, my body didn't think so. I worried I was trading one life for another. Prince Charming may be the devil himself and trying to fatten me up then eat me. Do they have cannibals in this land? Those comforting, deep eyes could just be a façade to help me form a connection with him because he has scars too. However, Vampires just needed my blood, fluids. Eating liver every day to try and maintain the iron in my blood was disgusting. Prince Charming gave me a great meal that would hold me off all day long. It wouldn't return my blood supply up to premium level, but I could feel the carbs settling on my hips. Maybe he liked to eat meaty hips. He surely wouldn't chase some animal or person away from the cave to protect me then eat me later, would he? No, surely not. That's a lot of trouble. I bit my thumbnail, trying to believe the lies I just told myself. That he just could not hurt me. Let's be honest; I was too naive about the world. Whatever world this was anyway. I stayed homeschooled because my dad was paranoid. Now, look at me. The day he passes away, my estranged mother comes back and takes me away, giving me nothing but grief. The aches in my arms remind me of him every day. Dad's fantasy stories of faraway places, wars of species of a different kind, kingdoms fighting for the right to live. Now I was living in one of those stories, except this time, I was just the blood slave with no hope of going back to the place I called home. Home wasn't there anymore. Home was with family, and I obviously didn't have one anymore. Between my thinking, worrying, and pity party, I fell asleep. I wasn't sure how long I slept, but Prince Charming came in, huffing. He put his weapons down on the single table meant for one. Prince Charming heard me and froze into blankness. I would say he glared at me, but his eyes were too soft for that. How could I think he would want to eat me. He was human, just like me. Then again, I thought the vampires were human, too, until they sucked me dry every day. No, he was different. When he was near, I felt comfortable. When he was away, my mind did things, thought things that couldn't be possibly true about him. The question was why I was feeling this way. "Everything alright?" I questioned. He only nodded, and that was when the real fun began because I had to explain that I really had to pee. There was no way I climb down off the bed; it was clearly three to four feet high. I already had one swollen ankle; I didn't need two. He came to the bed without question and lifted me up in his arms. I automatically wrapped my arms around his neck; I was worried I was too heavy for him. He thought it was funny, I'm sure because that familiar growl laugh radiated from his chest. Weird. Prince Charming took me outside; his steps were light, considering how large he was. He barely made a sound when we reached around the corner outside the cave. It was the first time I was able to see where I was staying. The only description I could give myself was that it was indeed a fantasy world in the light. A vast area around the cave is set up with furs drying in the sun. Trees, tall trees hung over the cave that looked like willows. The ground was riched with color, parts of the area covered in hunter green grass and several spots of purple moss. After I stared for a bit, Prince Charming took me to a secluded area with bushes for privacy. Setting me down, I leaned up next to a rock, waiting for him to leave. He just looked on, waiting for me to do what I needed to do. "You can't watch!" I waved my hands for him to shoo. Prince crossed his arms, shaking his head. "You can't be here; I have anxiety. I won't be able to let go if you stand there. I'm not going anywhere, obviously." My hands were on my hips with my ankle resting in the air behind me. It was a sight to see, that's for sure. Prince Charming's nose flared, and he turned around. That won't do either. The vampires had a single bucket in each cage. Being around my fellow humans, I didn't mind it because it was dark anyway. It was always dark. I felt covered in the darkness, so I did without question when I needed to do something. Now I was in the light with Prince Charming and his broodiness. What if I accidentally farted or worse. I bit my lip, thinking of the worst. "You have to walk away a bit," I whispered. Angering Princy Poo was not on my to-do list, but he had been compliant so far. He hadn't been rough with me at all; in fact, he was the nicest person I've met in 6 months. Prince Charming turned around with a heavy sigh. He pointed to the ground and at me. "I swear, I won't move," I promised. Prince walked away a good twenty paces before I could relieve myself. This was better than peeing in a bucket; I'll give you that. Before I could stand back up, Prince Charming already had me in his arms, taking me back to the cave. "Easy there, did you miss me?" I joked; his chest began to strum that mighty gravely noise in his chest again. "That cannot be normal," I muttered, moving my ear to his chest. It almost hummed its own song.