Doctor Dragon And Her Mate

Not Ready

***in the past***

Nina’s pov

I rocked my baby’s crib, blinking away the tears gathering in my eyes. From time to time, my gaze wandered towards my toddler, who was sleeping in her bed, a sob escaping in between breaths every few seconds. She had cried. I knew that much, despite just returning from duty.

My heart sank each time she sniffled. I had a hunch as to why she cried. Her father must have scolded her. He was fuming when I returned from the hospital and called our daughters a burden. At least she didn’t hear him say that. Bree had already fallen asleep.

A burden. Can you believe that? She was never a burden. However, ever since she was born, her father has resented her. Why? Because she was a girl. Yeah, it was ridiculous. Daughters were a gift, but some members of our community saw it as a misfortune. I guess I was lucky that my father doted on me.

I sighed. I hoped Drake would change someday. Maybe he would understand that daughters can make him proud. After making sure little Zoe was sleeping, I stopped rocking her crib and sat down. A sharp pain jolted through my hips as soon as I did. I winced. I was sure my body was black and blue after what I endured. He had taken out his anger on me after I returned from work. I squeezed my eyes shut while waiting for the pain to recede. It took longer than normal.

Normal…

I wanted to laugh at my misery. Getting beaten up was my new normal. My life wasn’t always this miserable. I grew up in a loving home. Family disputes were minimal there. I became a doctor. The human world was where I worked at first. After the untimely deaths of my brother and mom, I settled in the city so my father wouldn’t be alone. My marriage to Drake, a respected warrior of the Royal Army, brought joy to the whole kingdom. We were the talk of the town for a while. Our life was blissful. I thought he loved me. We were a loving couple until I gave birth to Brianne. With that, he changed. Months passed, and despite his growing hostility towards me, I kept hoping he would change one day. That day never came, though, and I believed I needed to be patient a little longer. I got pregnant again. He started to treat me a little better, hoping for a boy. Alas, it was a girl. Once again, his anger went through the roof. As the months passed by, I got impatient. Nonetheless, I stayed for the girls’ sake. I was successful enough to support us all, but I believed the kids needed both parents.

Regardless, Drake’s actions were making it harder to stay. Zoe was too young to understand her father’s resentment, but Bree was old enough. Though she was not entirely sure why, she knew her father detested her. I wondered sometimes what it was that I saw in him back then. With the injustice I faced every day, my feelings for him had soured.

My lips pressed together in a grim line as I glanced at the empty spot on our bed. The sound of the infant's cries had sent him to sleep in the guest room. Well good. I could use some time away from his presence for a while.

Wincing in agony, I got up, knowing that Bree's constant sniffling would keep me awake. She sucked in a shaky breath as I walked up to her, her lower lips quivering. Her cheeks still bore the trail of dried tears. I stroked the strands of hair that were covering her face, desiring to ease her suffering.

“Oh, sweet child. What did he say to make you cry so much?” I asked her in a hushed whisper, although I knew she wouldn’t hear me. I kissed her forehead and went to cover her body with the sheet. As I pulled it, I noticed something on her chest—long, red scratches on her fair skin, as though someone had scraped her using their fingernails.

My jaw dropped, and a lump blocked my throat.

He wouldn’t have done it, would he? He was with them for quite some time as I was held back at the hospital. The sitter I hired left when he returned home.

With my heart pounding in my chest, I carefully inspected the scratches. They were fresh and consistent with adult fingernails. I covered my mouth in dismay. Could she have done it? It wasn’t the first time she babysat for me, and the kids loved her. She was a kind lady, and harming a hair on someone was the last thing she could do. Drake, on the other hand, resented us and was violent towards me. And yet, I wanted to believe their father wouldn’t have hurt them.

She could have injured herself… yeah. She could have had an accident.

I stared at her for several seconds in silence. It wasn’t until Bree stirred in her sleep and groaned that I could make my next move. I kneeled beside her so that I could take a closer look and examine her wound.

“Mommy?” Bree muttered, opening her eyes.

Perhaps I had disturbed her sleep. I offered the best smile I could muster.

“Hi, baby. Did I wake you up?”

She shook her head and yawned. Of course, she wanted to go back to sleep. She shifted on her bed, wincing. “Ouch. This place hurts, mommy.”

“Where?”

She pointed to her hip. “Here. I got hurt, mommy. I fell down.”

Relief washed over me. I was wrong. She had hurt herself.

“Aww, baby. Mommy knows the best medicine, and you will be all better. But next time, be careful, okay? Don’t run around.”

She pouted her tiny lips. “But I was good. I didn’t run.”

“Oh, how did you get hurt?”

Her lips pressed together as she looked at our bed. I frowned. She appeared to be reluctant.

“It's okay. Tell me,” I urged her.

“Where is Dad?” she whispered, gazing at me with ample eyes. I didn’t like the hesitance that was reflecting in them.

“He is resting in the guest room,” I said.

Her lips pouted as she looked away from me. “Daddy hit me,” she said, exposing her abdomen. “He said I was a bad girl.”

For a moment, I froze.

“Mommy, do you think I am bad?”

My anger mounted as my gaze lingered on the purple bruises and bright red scratches on her body. My speculations were right. He had hurt her.

“No, no. Oh my God, no. You are the best thing in my life. You and Zoe,” I told her, trembling in anger.

She forced a smile, inhaling a deep breath. Her lower lip quivered as she glanced at me. Her eyes glossed, but she didn’t cry. She was trying to be brave. But no three-year-old should have to put up a brave face. She was just a baby.

Something snapped. My gaze swept across the room. I would have put up with the emotional and physical abuse, but as soon as he touched them, we had to get out. I was a doctor. Why would I put up with this nonsense?

As I strode towards the closet, rage pumped through my veins, igniting me. I grabbed our bags and shoved a few of our belongings in them, tears of fury rolling down my cheeks. He may be their father, but he had no right to cause harm.

I took Zoe out of her cot, taking care that she did not wake up. Bree was small, but she knew her mommy was up to something. She followed me in silence. I motioned for her to keep quiet and guided her out the door. Drake's sleeping in the guest room made it easier for me to leave with the girls. He wanted silence, right? He could live in silence for the rest of his life.

"Where are we going, Mommy?" Bree asked me when I stuffed the bags into the car and buckled them into their seats.

I looked into her eyes. Her hazel eyes shimmered with curiosity. At least she appeared to trust me.

“Home,” I told her.

Drake fought hard, but I threatened him with publicising pictures of the bruises on our bodies. That seemed to calm him down a little. Nonetheless, he didn’t make the divorce proceedings easy. It was messy and lengthy. Even by the time the kingdom went to war with the Lycans, our divorce wasn’t finalised.

I hated every bit of it. But then came the news of his death. Although it was a massive burden being lifted off my shoulders, the news came as a shock to me. I felt as free as a bird. Later, I learned that his body was never recovered. He was one of the dragons who didn’t return from the wilderness after chasing a group of wizards and lycans in there. Lots of dragons loyal to the late King Cadmus were stunned and burned to death in the woods. He was assumed to be among them.

Well, good riddance. I was free.

***2 years later***

It was a joy to see the girls growing up in peace. My goal in life was to give them the best. The hospital was my second home. Life was good. I was happy, living my best life with no men in it. Well, only my dad. He was an exception. Some of them were the living version of a migraine, so yeah, I was good without them.

I mean, who needed men to be happy?

Right?

I turned off the shower, covered my body with the towel, and walked towards the mirror. A deep frown contorted my face as I inspected the mark on my shoulder. I sighed.

It was a desperate attempt to save my life, he said.

I shook my head. Another war broke out, and this time I was on the brink of death. However, my soulmate marked me just so I would live. I couldn’t complain. I wanted to live for my girls, but I didn’t need a man, and most importantly, I didn’t need a soulmate. I was well on my own. Why in the world did fate pair me with him? The king’s second in command was a young boy, if compared to me. And now, I couldn’t even reject him because that would kill the poor lad. I wanted to be left alone, not kill him.

“Nina? Blake is here!”

I cringed at my father’s voice. Being pressured by my dad, I agreed to go out for drinks with him.

But I am not ready! My heart screamed.

“Nina?”

“Uh… yeah. I'll be there.”

I rushed to get dressed. Perhaps he would realise I wasn’t worth his time after one date. Why would Ben want to be with me? I was so done with everyone’s bullshit. As I picked up the black sequin gown my father got me, I cursed at myself.

“I'll never be ready for this relationship-s**t,” I muttered.