Mate To The Dragon

I hug my knees tighter to my chest, hissing in pain. It hurts to breathe, and it hurts to move.

My head aches, and bright light is irritating. I pass out every few hours, only to wake up a few minutes later.

I haven’t seen anyone since a dragon brought me a clean pair of clothes, just after they dragged me in here.

My uncle is even more powerful than I remember, even Mytalonis is still in pain. And when he is injured to the point of feeling pain, neither of us can heal.

I close my eyes, focusing on the moment I had with Daerius when he marked me. It seems like it was years ago. I miss him so much, I tell my dragon.

Since he marked you, you are going to miss him a lot more. In a few weeks it’s going to be painful to even think of him, Mytalonis says.

I internally groan, my face twisting into a grimace. My head snaps up suddenly when a door bangs. Pain shoots through my skull and my head falls back onto the wall.

I feel a powerful presence enter the prison and I push myself further into the corner of the cell. What the hell happened to him? Why is he suddenly so strong?

Part of it is that we are both so weak, but something else happened that I can’t explain, my dragons says.

I look up at my uncle standing in front of the cell. In his eyes is a mixture of anger and remorse.

“Lyza, how could you help them get away?” He asks. The softness of his voice surprises me.

“Because they don’t deserve to sit in here or be killed,” I tell him, my voice hoarse and cracked.

He shakes his head, sighing. “After what they did to us it’s less than they deserve.”

I growl a little. “It was Daerius’ father! It had nothing to do with anyone else. And their father is dead!”

“What makes you so sure Daerius isn’t going to follow in his footsteps?”

“Me. He has me. And he marked me so the bond is only going to get stronger and he physically won’t be able to,” I say.

“Do you really think I’m going to risk all of our dragons’ lives over a stupid bond?” He growls angrily. My face falls.

“What are you going to do?” I ask, swallowing hard. He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath, then looks at me with determination.

“You are going to help me destroy the werewolves,” he says, and four guards walk into the prison. They unlock my cell and drag me to my feet.

Pain shoots through my body as I struggle against them. It barely fazes the guards though.

“No. No! Uncle please don’t do this,” I plead as realization hits me. Tears stream down my face. He clenches his jaw and starts walking out.

“I’m doing this for your father Lyza, he deserves vengeance,” he says, leading the guards out of the prison.

“Wait-stop! You can’t do this! Please don’t do this!” I scream, thrashing my body around.

They drag me outside and towards the volcanoes that form a boundary around us. My feet start to bleed and bruises are forming where they grip my arms.

By the time we reach the base of Mors, my energy is drained. I stop struggling and collapse onto the dirt when the guards release me.

Agonizing pain courses through my body and every part of me is throbbing. I barely have the strength to push myself up out of the dirt.

I hear cracking and start to panic. I look up and see my uncle shifting into his red dragon, identical to my father’s aside from his yellow eyes; my father’s were red like mine.

I feel absolutely puny near him, a single clawed foot the same size as my body. I stare up at him, the scent of my own fear flooding my senses. He lets out a roar that makes me cower against the ground.

The guards yank me to my feet and the next thing I know, I am in the air, being held by two clawed feet. I hold onto my uncle’s dragon for dear life as we soar towards the mouth of the volcano.

Bile rises in my throat as I realize what he is going to do to me. Tears roll down my face and a sob escapes my lips. “Don’t do this uncle! You know they never really come back! I will never be the same if you do this!” I yell, my voice cracking with emotion.

He replies in the dragon’s tongue so Mytalonis translates. Your freedom is a small price to pay for the safety of all living dragons and vengeance for all of the dead.

I stare down into the mouth of Mors. It is a mountain of raging fire. Hot ash spews in massive black clouds along with boiling lava. I can feel the heat coming in waves.

“Please uncle, I’m begging you, don’t do this!” I scream, feeling his grip on me loosen.

I’m sorry Lyza. The fire surrounds me, a comforting warmth for a few seconds. Then everything goes cold.