Chapter 6

I'm frozen, muscles tense as this… beast rubbed against my chest. Like a feline butting their head against my hands, except its ten tons with scorching skin. No fluff here.

I take a shuddering breath, teeth gnashing as this unbearable heat dragged forth foul memories. Memories of the fire, of my mother burning to death. It triggers the frightful fluttering of my heart and my breath comes in quick pants; I can't just lay here. I have to get out, to get away from this heat.

The dragon huffs; hot air washing over my chest and I cinch my eyes shut. It’s not like I can just push it off me, can I? Taking a deep breath, I force myself to calm. Despite this unbearable heat, my flesh isn’t burning. Its just hot. Like being in a sauna.

I can handle this. Its either this, or get ripped to shreds by very large teeth.

Another huff, this one impatient. I crack open an eye to peak at this regal beast curled around my frame, at the golden eyes that regard me carefully.

It is waiting for something. My first thought is that its hungry, a pet waiting to be fed. But from the sparkle of intelligence hidden in those oceans of gold, I find that it is waiting for me. To gather myself, to stop this panic attack that edges ever closer.

“You’re right. It could be worse.” I say out loud, chuckling as a black snout bumps into my cheek before the dragon curls around me tighter. Before I know it, I’m brushing my hand across its scaled head. My fingers rub against its dark horns and a breath of content flutters the blankets. When I stop, it merely rumbles a low growl and presses its massive body into me—quietly asking for more.

A smile touches my lips as I observe its soft scales; each one glittering like obsidian. They flex with every breath and shift of muscle.

Is this the dragon king? Or a pet kept under his heel? Either way, it seems more like a giant scaled cat rather than a fearsome fire-breathing beast.

I scratch under its chin, I stroke down its neck, I rub behind its ear, every touch I make soothing this beast until its breaths fall into the rhythm of sleep. I nestle in its hold, my own fear melting as I relax.

It wont hurt me. I don’t know how I know it, but I do—deep in my heart. I allow my gaze to wander over its silky scales, my breath soon falling in tune with it.

Yet something flutters across its skin; a bristling of scales as the creature suddenly tenses—head snapping up to glare at the door. What was once soft as silk under my touch turns into something harder than stone. A soft knock comes from the other side, a gentle voice calling “Sire? Are you alright?”

That was all it took, someone encroaching on this space. Like a wild animal, the dragon snapped—roaring at the door before rising to its massive claws moments before charging forward. My instinct was quick; alert and terrified as my hands grasped onto its horned tail—pain biting my palms as they slipped over sharp scales. I cried, “No! Stop!”

The dragon froze, snarling at the door before turning to me. It’s agitated, eyes narrowed as it looks back and fourth for any sort of intruder moments before curling around me tight. I swallow, eyes tracking its massive head that lays against my thigh and I cautiously stroke down its rigid spine, scales still shifting as it stares at the door with malice.

It’ll kill anything that walks in. That makes me nervous; so I am quick to quell its nerves with gentle touches. It is frightening as well as mesmerizing to watch its hard scales shift into something smoother; silky as its guard lowers. For whatever reason, this beast is comfortable with me.

What’s weirder is that I, too, am comfortable with it so much so that when its deep breaths slow and its eyes close, my own head lulls.

Sleep takes me quick; an assassin I never saw coming. It isn’t until the press of cool sheets against my skin that I wake; tangled in a bed that’s not mine. As the dragon comes to mind, I bolt upright—heart pounding as I notice its sudden absence. All I find is a large indentation and a scattering of black scales, glittering in the morning light streaming through the window.

My shoulder tense, a swallow rubbing my throat as I realize I am not alone. My gaze falls to the man standing at the end of the bed; shirt hanging open to show me the hard lines of his neck, chest, abs… his pants were slung low, his skin a warm shade, his eyes narrowed with anger. Lips pinched, arms crossed, he glares at me with unbridled irritation.

Even angry, he is still beautiful.

As beautiful as the man I found in the courtyard just last-Oh no. That is the man from last night! Another quick glance around me, and that beast is gone. Nervously I pull up the sheets to my chest; clothes making me sweat but I dare not remove this thin veil shielding me from the wrath of this unknown man.

“Why are you here in the Kings Chambers?” he snapped, his voice languid despite the anger across his face. Almost like he were still shaking off his sleep.

My mouth fell open, the kings room!? I blubbered, “W-why are you in his majesties chambers?”

“Because I am the king.” He snarled, faunlike hair wild around his head. He had a cowlick that made him less frightening—but I am no fool. Despite his discharged demeanor, this was the king. The Dragon King.

Another swallow rushes down my throat, fingers twitching in the sheets. My feet itched to touch the ground, to bolt from this room and run as far as the neighboring country.

But this man is the king. He sniffs out my urge to flee quickly—lunging to pin me to the bed. I flail, suddenly frightened as he grabs my wrists and throws them above my head. His knee jams itself between my legs, locking me in place as his chest presses tightly against my own.

He’s hot, just like the Dragon is. The kind of pressing heat that’s has memories clawing behind my eyes.

His own flared; twin lakes of melted gold that burn with the fire only a Dragon could possess. Where as moments ago that beast looked upon me tenderly, protectively, this man looks at me like I am scum. A criminal intruding on his personal space. His teeth flashes as he seemed to struggle with something internally, a growl rumbling in his chest.

There is a flash of metal—a blade notching itself beneath my chin. My legs quivered, my jaw ticked, my heart pounded. Terrified beneath him, I sink into the mattress as far as I can—just aching for some space.

He gave none, adding the tiniest amount of pressure on its pointed tip—blood trickling down my neck. “Who are you?” He demanded, “Tell me what happened last night, or I’ll take your head.”

It was more than a threat. It was a promise.