The Dragon Prince's Obsession

TWO

Dragons did not burn but he jerked like I would when confronted with a flame. I watched with my heart in my throat as his face contorted. His lips pulled down in a sneer as realization dawned.

That was the Drakii's culture. A life for a life. A dragon only saves what is his. I saved him and now his life belonged to me. Simple as that.

“You dare?” He stalked towards me, only the tightness of his jaw showed the pain he felt. I stood my ground despite the flight response coursing through me.

“It is the way,” I said, raising my quivering chin.

Oh, father lord, I set myself up. Speaking to Mikhail as I would an ordinary man, a man my equal. I held my ground when he crowded into my personal space. I held my ground as his rage scorched me. I held my ground even though I held my breath also, getting lightheaded due to his proximity.

I squeaked something when he crushed my bicep, his big hands tightened around my thin arms. The same arms that had dragged his wretched body from where the witches held him.

“Let me go,” I said, voice a continuous quiver.

“Who are you to ask things of me?” He hissed. “Do you have no fear, human?” He continued to crush my bicep as I struggled to get away from him.

Who would not fear a man like Mikhail Pendragon? He caused half of our troubles . He was a wicked man, devoid of conscience, happiest after wreaking havoc. According to the dragon queen, he kept a graveyard castle with the bodies of his victims. Only a fool would not fear a wrecker like this one. Of course, I could not admit this to him.

Should have allowed him to rot in there.

I escaped one trouble, rescued another and took it with me.

A flare of magic saved me from losing my arms and maybe my life. The witches had found us.

He let go of me to walk forward, towards the mouth of the safe space I brought him, back to the cave of the witches, laden with magic that could kill him. The injury on his side had closed but not completely. If he went back there, it would continue to bleed, his body unable to heal.

Call me insane but I jumped to stop him.

Any sane man would pick the lesser of two evils when confronted. Between Mikhail and the witches, this man stood out as the greater evil. Yet, he was the familiar evil. I couldn’t speak for others but I would choose a known foe over an unknown one.

He tossed me aside, clearing me out of his way as he marched forward, consumed by the need for vengeance.

“Thet will kill you!” I screamed at him but he did not heed my warning.

If he wanted to get rid of himself for the world, then so be it.

I stood from where he flung me, turned my back on him and broke into a run. I cursed myself for ever stopping as magic whooshed past me. I ducked in time as a bout of magic fragmented a wall. I prayed to all the gods I knew. If anything would save me, it certainly would not be the speed at which I ran.

My heart hammered, my legs burned as well as my lungs. The faster and harder I kicked myself, the more my body threatened to give out. It did not help that magic thickened the air and the dust from splintered rocks clogged my vision.

I sprinted, taking random turns, hoping to come out someplace where magic could not get to. If any such place existed, I had to find it fast.

A flare of power hit another wall beside me and it groaned, stones flying out of it, one of which hit me on the side of my face. I stumbled, flaying my arms as I almost fell. Another bout of magic came at me. This time, I saw it. A flare of red light like an arrow, shooting straight at me. I rolled away in time before it hit my chest.

I kicked back up and continued my race. This was my reward for rescuing a cursed man. A witch could send magic to pierce my heart all because I was in the same space as the prince.

I ran until I got to the exit. A bright, open land lay ahead. It seemed I had entered another world. My eyes barely adjusted to the bright light of the open field when pain struck my leg.

I tumbled.

There was nothing before me but green grass, greener than any grass I ever saw. It stretched for miles ahead and around me. There was nothing but grass and clear blue skies and then the pain of the magic on my left foot.

I had never been magicked before. The sensation was awful. Whatever curse, whatever spell, this was, it paralysed me for a split second until it absorbed into my system, like tiny ants wriggling about, wrestling themselves to get in first. Then the magic was – gone.

I felt it before I could see it. A thread of energy flying towards me. I barely stood. I knew it was going to knock me down this time. I knew from the crackle of the power speeding towards me that it would not be a small spell; not something I could easily rise from if it hit me. If I would even be able to stand after.

Time slowed as I tried evading it. My feet glued to the ground. I could not move and the magic would destroy me this time. I knew it.

“Now, we are even.” Strong arms gripped my waist, hauling me against muscular shoulders.

At once, the shower of spells and curses seized.

I felt the prickling of something different as he bounded into the green scene. He dropped me a few seconds later and not kindly. He simply let me fall from his shoulders, hitting the grass that felt much too hard for grass.

I stood, ignoring him and continued to run. And then I stumbled.

“Are you – are you floating?” I asked in alarm, forgetting to run for a second.

I need not ask. His legs dangled before him as he sat – on air? When he refused to answer, I remembered I still had to leave so I turned and continued to run. This time, when I stumbled, it was because I hit my leg on something.

“What in the –“

“You can stop running now or you can watch where you put your feet,” He snapped at me when I tripped on thin air.

Adrenaline still pushed me to run, to escape the string of curses, the flying spells, that I felt were rushing at me. I tripped again, falling flat on my face. I thought the grass had been hard at first, it felt like bricks here.

I looked around in confusion as I stood with blood trickling down my nose from the impact of the fall. I looked around and saw nothing but grass and a man floating with eyes fixated on me.

Red eyes scrutinized me as if I had a new head on my shoulders. His eyes were dull, the injury on his side closed now, but a new one bled on his shoulder without any sign of healing.

The magic in the witch's home had a smell, an irritation on my skin and a bitter, overwhelming taste on my tongue. I could tell magic wove into this place. Yet, it stood different from the magic of the witches. I could think of no reason for the wound on his shoulder to still bleed into the white cotton of his shirt.

The pain in his eyes pulled me in. I walked towards him and then I stumbled again! What was this place and why did air keep tripping me!?

“Are you blind?” He asked. I watched his brows pull up in confusion. I heard no mockery or spite in his words, only curiosity. It did not stop the flare of loathing that sprang in my heart.

“I am not blind! Would a blind man have found and dragged you out of danger? I saved your life. You should at least be thankful,” I said, still moving to him.

Somehow, I thought of him as an ally. Which, really, had to be the most stupid thing I ever thought. I saved him and he saved me. A sort of security existed around him and I wondered if it extended to me. I hoped it did. I felt it did.

“My debt to you is repaid. I am not thankful. I refuse to be thankful,” He snapped before he winced.

I approached him as one would a wounded dog. Except, well, this was a wounded dragon that had killed more people than I knew.

“I forbid you from touching me,” He said, eyeing me as I approached, careful of the danger in his eyes and the ground tripping me.

I approached him anyway. He was ten minutes away from passing out from blood loss, dak blood soaking his shirt all the way to the back.

He leapt at me with the precision of a hunting cat as I approached. One second I wondered about his state, about him being in the air, thinking the witches had magicked him, and the next he was upon me like a bad dream.

“You seem both blind and deaf. Do not touch me,” He hissed, wincing. My mind blanked, my heart stopped for a second at the speed with which he moved.

The problem was, I had not touched him yet. I planned to. He would bleed out if I did not do something for him, but I had not done anything yet. He glared at me as if he bled because of me.

“I have – I did not – I just want to –help?” I had no idea why, but it turned out to be the worst thing I could have said to him. I ducked in time as his hand struck out.

Then he fell.

Paranoia set in. In a place I did not know, with a man I did not like and a swarm of enemies close by, I was not ready to be alone.

I pulled off his bloodied shirt to reveal a gaping wound on his shoulder. The cause of which happened to be a pinky sized dart exuding a lime green substance that I could see spreading in his veins, moving to his heart.

My first instinct was to yank out the dart so I did. It stung worse than anything I ever touched. My next instinct was to abandon him but he was a dragon. If I helped him, he would be in my debt. He would get me back home as p*****t.

Despite the revolt of my stomach, I held his cloth, ignored the burn of the magic and pulled out the dart but he did not start to heal. The greenish substance had eaten too deep into him. I watched it continue to spread through his veins, dangerously close to his heart as it moved, turning his veins a like green as it spread.

I watched with my heart in my throat and my brain all over the place as it killed him a second at a time. I felt a headache coming on as frustrating continued to mount. Frustration and confusion. My only hope out of this vast and strange land was dying on me!

I pressed my hand to the bleeding wound on his shoulder. Apply pressure, I once heard. I applied pressure and to my relief, it seemed to drain the poison out of him.