Claws and Kisses

“Fuck you, Bruce!”

I threw my spoon at his chest, grinning in savage satisfaction when it hit him square on the sternum. The mountain of a man glanced down at the floor where the spoon had landed before setting his cold eyes on me.

It had been one week. One week of lying on a bed in a closet without any windows. One week of back sores and boredom. One week of thinking over and over again how close I was to the Dragon Lord I had once thought to be my greatest friend. One week of dreams.

Fate must have been laughing at how well I played the fool. During the day, I could only think of him and our past. During the night, I would have dreams of him and I, together. Not as I knew him as a boy, but an older version. Even though I had not seen him since the tender age of eleven, I could have sworn I saw his face at night. The straight line of his nose, the distinct curve of his jaw. The crown of blue-black hair that adorned his head. And . . . and his eyes. The galaxy must have laid trapped in those violet orbs of his. Everywhere I looked, I saw his purple gaze on me. Too intense and powerful to be ignored.

One week of Bruce. The blonde-haired fiend was mute. Anyone else, and my heart would have torn for them. But not Bruce. Not Bruce who stomped everywhere and gave me silent orders with crude gestures or firm shoves. If I refused when he wanted me to eat, he would simply force the food down my throat. If I refused to go to the bathroom, he would throw me over his shoulder, march into the bathroom, and dump me on the toilet. It was the most humiliated and angry I had ever been.

Now, the giant oaf wanted me to get back in bed, as I had gotten up to stride out the door. He blocked the way, glaring down at me with icy detestement, as if I was nothing more than the scum beneath his boot. His stance was clear. You’re not leaving.

“You think your so tough, huh?” I poked him in the chest, not caring for the way his eyes narrowed at the jab. “I know your type. You think you’re big and bad and that the rest of us normal-sized people should cower before you. But guess what, buddy? I ain’t no bitch—”

Bruce apparently grew tired of my speech. Plucking me off the ground like how one would pluck a flower, he chucked me across the room and did not flinch when I landed on the mattress with an “Oof!”

My back protested with the sudden strain, and I groaned into the pillows as I rolled over, intent on giving Bruce a piece of my mind. Straightening on the bed, I opened my mouth to growl at the mute beast—and closed it.

The dragon was passed out on the floor.

Scrambling off the bed, I fell on my knees before the colossal man, reaching for his neck. A steady beat pulsed under the skin, leaving more questions than answers in the wake of his collapse. I shook his shoulder, trying in vain to wake him. “Bruce? Bruce, can you hear me?” When he did not respond, I slapped him on the chest. He didn’t even bat an eye. What’s wrong with him? I thought, growing more concerned by the minute. “Bruce! Come on, buddy. Talk to me. I know I called you a walking dumpster fire, but I didn’t really mean it.”

No response. Swallowing hard, I sat back on my knees, debating what to do. Get a doctor? Try to find Romeo or Elora? Escape?

There was a flicker in the corner of my eye, pulling me from my frantic thoughts. The bolted closet door was no longer bolted, but wide open. The corridors were dark beyond, but the flash of a woman slinking away proved prominent among the shadows. Before she disappeared entirely, the she-dragon caught my eye with a shit-eating grin.

And winked.

She was gone as quickly as she had come. I slowly rose, my eyes trained on the darkness outside the closet, as if waiting for the woman to reappear. She did not. The only thing that was clear was that the door was open. Bruce was out cold. I suddenly had a way out.

Grinning dragon or not, I knew an opportunity when I saw one.

The hallway outside the closet and the connected rooms was dotted with people. A few threw a few glances my way, noting the tangled hair and dark bags under my eyes. None of them cared enough to stop me, but I still felt the pressure of their stares following me down the hall and across the mountain. Barefoot and dressed only in a simple white gown, I must have looked like an escaped insane asylum patient.

With Valentina dead, Rhett surely would have been moved back to the dungeons in the base of the mountain. If he was not there, then that meant he had already been sold to another dragon mistress. It would make tracking him down harder, but I could do it. I knew I would have to.

The halls blurred in a swirl of gold and white, until I could barely tell which way was left and right or up and down. The stairs were nowhere in sight, and all the curious glances were causing sweat to damped my brow.

“Where you going, sweetheart?” A low feminine voice crooned from behind me. “The party’s that way.”

The woman from before was leaning against a wall a few feet away, a thumb hooked over her shoulder pointing in an unknown direction. She was thin with brunette curls and pale skin. A scar ran from her nose, over her mouth, and to the tip of her jawline. Her eyes were two black oblivions set upon her face, absorbing any and all light. They were lit up in a wild, feral excitement.

“Who are you?” I asked, trembling slightly when her cool gaze slid over my figure, taking the whole of my rumpled state in.

“Your blessed savior,” she said, grinning with a deep bow. Her leg swept out as she kneeled before me, dramatic as even the best street performers. She only straightened when I coughed awkwardly. Her smile was wide and uneven when she spoke. “Bruce needed the break, and I thought you could use a little walk.”

Frowning in kind, I took a tiny step backward. The hallway we were in was suddenly empty of people. The lack of voices grated on my nerves. “You’re the one who opened the door?”

She toed the ground, her crinkled eyes downcast. “Did you think it was a ghost?”

“No, I . . .” I struggled to find the right words, not sure how to react. The only thing I could think to say was, “Why did you do that? Are you with Romeo and Elora?”

Her laugh was sharp and biting. “Elora I could take orders from, but that shitbag of a dragon? You have to be joking.” Her eyes flicked back up to mine. “As for your previous question, they call me Bear. Pleased to meet you.”

Without waiting for an answer, she pivoted on her heel and headed in the direction that she had pointed to earlier. I stood rigidly, not making to follow after her. She paused after a few paces, peering over her shoulder at me under long, dark lashes. “Are you coming or not, mortal?”

I did not respond, and only remained where I stood, rooted to the ground.

She sighed, running a hand through her curls. “All you humans are the same,” she muttered under her breath before saying, “You might as well follow me. All the doors are locked along this corridor, as well as the one leading to the stairs. Drachen magic will have you wandering in circles. So, just come with me and save us both the trouble.”

There was no hesitation this time as she spun away, leaving me with her vexing ultimatum. My heart beat loudly in my chest as I tried to figure out her game. Who sent her? Where does she want to take me? Are all the doors really locked?

After tugging on a few, her words proved true. There was no escape unless I went with her into the unknown. Working my jaw, I shoved down my pride and strode after her, hoping that wherever she was leading me would not be fatal on my part. She had gotten me out of the room, and had not tried to kill me yet. For a dragon, she was not doing too bad.

Bear was far enough ahead that I could only catch glimpses of her mahogany hair disappearing behind various turns before losing her entirely. It was difficult navigating the winding halls, and practically impossible to keep track of where we were. She slowed enough to let me keep up, but just barely.

All too soon we arrived at the entrance of ten-foot tall, double oak doors. Laughter and boisterous chatter sounded from inside, making it clear that the room beyond was far from empty. Bear waited until I had reached her and the door until she spoke.

“Just go straight in there, and make yourself known. Keep your eyes down and don’t talk back to nobody. If someone spits in your face, thank them kindly and keep on walking. Understood?”

I shook my head. “What the hell is going on? What’s in there?”

She smiled, patting me on the back. “Trust me, mortal. You’ll figure it out as soon as you walk in.” The she-dragon began to walk away, but stopped short before bridging the last few feet. “And hey, Wendy?”

I blinked. “Yeah?”

Winking, she disappeared behind a corner, shouting behind her shoulder, “Don’t fuck this up!”

For a moment, I stared at the spot she had been. Then, by some Gods-spoken miracle, I gathered the courage to turn back around and push the doors open.

Behind the doors breathed a new world. A wide chamber opened up, carved out from the mountain itself. Crimson red drapes hung every few feet, falling to the floor in waves of shimmering color. Gold chandeliers with bright candles swung from the ceiling, lighting the room up in an aureate glow. Dozens of men and women lounged on chaises, smoking cigars and drinking amber liquid from small glasses. All of the men wore suits, matching nicely with the women who were adorned in their finest dresses. For each dragon, there was a human slave not standing a foot away, holding grapes and cheese with stony gazes. Some of the other slaves were being used for other purposes, but I did not let myself linger long on those humans.

At the end of the room, a grand staircase led to an enormous throne, made of the finest wood and interlaced with pure gold. A dragon sat utop it, talking quietly to one of his attendants. He had a face like the heavens. His blue-black hair curled at the ends, trailing lightly across his forehead. Several tattoos peeked out from his armor-like wardrobe, snaking up his neck and down his arms. The bulk of his frame was enough to catch the eye of any female dragon, and more than a few of them were sneaking lusty glances his way, trying their best to garner his attention.

And yet, after all these years, one thing still had not changed about my old friend. His eyes were as violet as ever, and I knew the stars must have envied the twinkle that sparkled in his eyes. There was nothing on earth that could compare to that purple gaze of his.

The world seemed to stop when he let the conversation with his attendants die, and his eyes—as if able to feel my piercing gaze on them—slid to me. Our gazes met, and I could have sworn I felt a bubble of relief pop in my chest after years of thinking of him. Missing him more than I could ever care to admit. A warmth filled me upon his all-consuming stare, driving my mind into an uproar.

One of the dragons noticed. Then two. Then a dozen, until all the voices in the room had hushed. Silence descended—our eyes never once wandering. There was only one thing left to say in the quiet of the night.

“Avel?”