Dragon's Pet

Minx

There is something about escaping into a snowy forest that makes “escape” fun. What I mean by that is something entirely different than hiding from the enemy.

I don’t hide from anyone. Nor do I always fight.

One bite from my poisonous fangs could kill any Dragon, mortal, or mage—the most boring possible outcome.

I am also a fierce fighter in either mortal or Dragon form. I can outrun and outsmart any being. Hence, I’ve often made my escapes more into ventures of provocation.

Basically, I like to trick, thieve, confuse, and tease any self-identified predator.

I often have enemies naturally, as my breed of Dragon is despised by basically everyone.

I am a little bundle of power, speed, and precision, and I can even spit poisonous fire. I might be tiny but I am lethal—in many ways.

With these attributes, everyone often assumes most Fire-Spitters are dangerous, and with our violent mental states, we are also seen as crazy.

And hell yeah, we are…but often only when we are young. The moment we come of age, when we mellow, we become more stable.

I am usually far more relaxed than I used to be. I used to kill needlessly and provoke others just for the fun of it.

Now? I am secretly… How do I admit this? Lonely. Okay? I am lonely.

No, not for my annoying mates. I just want company. Any kind of friend would do. However, girls don’t seem to like me and most boys are too scared of me.

And Lotus? He’s dead. Because, of course, Zoraul had to needlessly slaughter a male friend of mine…probably because he is male or because he had seen me naked.

Such a reaction is due to my mate’s Tempest Breed and their upbringing.

Despite me running through all of the Tempest Lands to avoid my mates—I hated the Tempest Lands because I hated Tempest Breeds.

“Cave-Dragons,” I murmur to myself from a snowy tree I’ve climbed, nearing the top branches where they start to get a bit thin.

I’ve been watching the town just below the slope I ascended. While the town is buzzing with activity, some hunters have gone into the forest…

And then I eventually see two giant Silver Breeds rise above the town and swoop toward my location. Their exact forms are mirages but I catch a glimpse of their sizes.

Absolutely massive. Next to the twin brothers, I would appear equivalent to the size of a mere mouse.

Now their mirages mist to silver dust, magical and sparkly as they magically appear as humans right under my tree.

Perfect. I had left a clear scent trail to my hiding spot on purpose. I watch now as each twin solidifies too close to one another.

Rawk and Zoraul barely brush shoulders, but it’s enough for them to slowly turn to each other and glare with all the hate they can muster.

Both have bloody foreheads from getting a nick in on one another with their weapons. Before, of course, they had to go track me down because I actually escaped.

As they look up together, I slowly smile down at them, locking eyes with my mates.

I’m leaning off the branch, my purple hair hanging, my eyes wide and happy as I prepare to slide to the next branch below me.

Both of them watch me with narrowed eyes as I innocently slide down to the branch a little bit closer to them.

As I do so, my hand keeps a firm hold of the branch I was once occupying, holding it at a steady tension.

As I let it go, a torrential fall of heavy snow slips off the pine leaves and plummets to the brothers.

“Ha ha!” I shriek with laughter as I jump to my feet and hop along a few branches to run to the nearby trees. I watch them both trip into the snow.

I hear them snarl out, and as they swipe the snow off and run after me to the next neighboring tree, I simply kick a few more branches, perfectly timed.

I get a few more snowy falls to grace my Twin Dragon Lords’ shoulders before they realize running into the snow after me under the foliage isn’t going to work.

Neither am I going to stop laughing.

The moment both twins begin to shift, I also shift, grabbing my clothes with my claws. I swoop out of my tree and fly like a sparrow between the tight-forming trees as my purple Dragon.

I know with their natural sizes they will only manage to stay as their Dragon forms above the forest or down below where the pines are further spaced apart.

Is this how you greet your mates? Zoraul asks me, exasperated.

You are Tempest lying scum bags, the both of you. I connect to each mind boldly and snarl at them.

Deep down, however, I am filled with an unexpected joy. It’s fun playing with my mates! If I could do this every day, maybe I could tolerate them keeping me company.

We could play chase all day—that’s something I am willing to consider. They could be my pets!

Just as I think that, I seem to get an ice-cold avalanche on my back. I’m shocked as my wings cannot hold me up and I plummet to the snowy ground.

As I somersault to a painful stop, my tail just rolls over my eyes before I land on my back—and I see multiple trees around me bent, broken, and destroyed.

The minimal sun is blocked out by the massive silver-scaled Dragons looking down at me.

To my right, Rawk takes up almost my entire vision, his wings outstretched, his talons slicing through the trees he’s balancing upon.

I know this is him because of the black scar—far prettier on his Dragon face than his human form.

Zoraul is balancing upon the trees to the left, his black scar jagged across his stomach toward his wing.

It is their true defining difference besides Rawk being a burnt silver and Zoraul a bright, brilliant silver.

And now, with my wings surely leaving a Dragon–snow angel figure behind me, and my mates perched above in the slaughtered trees, I have my moment of feeling like a mouse.

After they landed on the trees above and stopped my flight by using my own trick against me, I am now trapped looking up at them with a silly snarl on my Dragon face.

At least neither of you are stupid. I try to distract them as I roll to my feet and arch my back like a cat, trying to appear scary as I hold out my wings.

I prance around, spitting my deadly fire out in a warning.

I expect my display to be terrifying—I haven’t met one being on this planet who didn’t run screaming when they saw my war dance before I went in for the kill. Fire-Spitters are famous for it.

I growl loudly, my tail striking back and forth in a violent dance of its own.

Rawk and Zoraul pause. Then they both burst out laughing.

Their rumbled laughs and chuckles fill my mind, as they lift their wings and tilt their Dragon snouts, peering in at me like I am the funniest thing they’ve ever witnessed.

If mocking my venomous fire is the last thing you’ll ever do, that’s not on me, Tempest scum, I snarl at them, lowering my wings and my snout, readying myself to strike.

Dancing like a scared rat. Zoraul tilts his head farther to the side as he assesses me. ~Continue, mate, it is pleasing to the senses to see something so wildly untamed.~

With Zoraul’s words, Rawk lashes out his huge head, his teeth snapping together as he makes Zoraul tumble backward off his perch.

I snort fire out of my nose as Zoraul crashes through ten or so trees. While he tries to find his feet, Rawk mists suddenly. He closes the distance blindingly fast.

He transforms into a fully clothed mortal form right in front of me. Despite how giant Rawk is, I lift my Dragon head until it’s level with his and I stare right into his golden, amused eyes.

“Unlike my brother, I do not encourage such mischief,” Rawk explains in a deep drawl. My eyes focus upon the jagged black scar and ruined features that once may have been handsome.

Yet now they are tainted by the black scar. I’ve always wondered how each twin received such strange and violent markings.

I do not answer Rawk as I wait for him to proposition me. I’ll listen, for a little while.

“Should you choose me, Minx, I will teach you how to realize the beauty in your life— how to analyze the possibilities as my mate.”

Rawk reaches out a hand to my snout, and I snort at him as he simply touches a finger to my nose. One touch—and my magic recoils from the sheer strength of his.

It is like nothing I have ever felt, and suddenly I am shrinking and transforming into my mortal form.

On all fours and very much naked, I quickly swipe up my clothes I brought with me and hold them protectively over my chest as I stay kneeling on the ground.

I don’t mind pretending to be even smaller—as if I have begun to submit. It’s all I need to bring their guard down right before I take them both out—before they take me away.

I see a strange fire in Rawk’s eyes in response to my kneeling position and I just pretend to appear terrified.

“Pretentious, as always.” Zoraul suddenly appears just behind Rawk, also in his clothed human form.

Those pesky bastards had been taught the rare power of misting in and out of their clothes. I have no idea how they do it.

“And you,” I say, “you murder for fun? Lotus was my man friend. You stuck him through the middle…like a kebab. I like kebabs but I don’t like my friends being kebabs.”

I snarl this and Zoraul squats down before me while Rawk just rolls his eyes, tapping his foot impatiently.

“Say your speech and go, you pathetic fool,” Rawk mocks his twin while Zoraul blinks away the insults, staring right into my eyes, on my level.

“Little Minx, if you choose Rawk, you will be his Student of Feeling. Do you know what that is?” Zoraul asks.

“He’ll teach you how to feel everything you don’t want to. But me? If you choose me, Minx, you can be my Student of Disobedience.”

“Why that?” I ask, plainly. However, as Zoraul tries to shuffle closer, I snarl, “Do not try to trick me,” and I hear Rawk snort in disbelief at me or his twin or both of us, I’m not sure.

“Why disobedience?” Zoraul responds.

“Why not, Minx? We can travel together, not tied down to any Horde. We can see sights most mortals will never see, we can go on quests for treasure… Don’t you like treasure?”

“Only Twin Breeds like shiny things,” I murmur quietly. “Both propositions are funny… I like funny. I will decide in a year.” I slowly raise a brow at both of them.

I appreciate that both mates have not tried to manhandle me or kidnap me in any way yet. The fact that both have tried to proposition me has helped bring me some form of confidence.

“Waiting for another year, watching from the shadows, waiting for you to rile up the wrong fight where you get yourself killed?” Rawk retorts, completely disregarding my offer.

“You’re a reckless beast that needs to be tamed.”

Whoa. Not okay.

“I. Am. A. Woman!” I jump to my feet, dropping my clothes. I stand fully naked but now I stand completely proud.

It’s the one thing I can’t stand to hear—that I am a beast. I hate that insult. Ever since I had my first blood a couple of years ago, before I turned sixteen, I had developed a few…mental issues.

I suddenly hated anyone insulting my femininity. I am still a female and I am proud of it. I do not want to be called a beast.

I wait in my proud glory, as each mate assesses me for my physical worth in this moment. Both look consumed for a moment in time. But as they both decide to reply, I wait impatiently for a compliment.

“You look like a kid,” Rawk growls, guarded.

“Threatened by the beauty of our mate?” Zoraul scoffs at his brother. “I can see your aura, you fool—you have always been a terrible liar.”

“You have always been too good with lies. Which is better—being a bad liar or a good one?” Rawk chuckles as he appreciates his own smart words. He is clearly very arrogant. “Minx?”

“Kid?” I whisper. Despite the conversation, I am offended by his first comment.

“You think I look like a child? I am eighteen full winters old and I am extremely feminine. I don’t drool when I eat raw flesh anymore and I no longer rip apart my meals. I consume them proper, unlike the fledglings my age. You are a fool, Rawk.”

I turn to Zoraul next. “You were jealous of a mortal man, weak and lame perhaps, but he was still my man friend. You, both of you, are not my mates.”

I point between them, snarling, “You are both pathetic. You will wait a year and proposition me with something better than ‘Student of this’ and ‘Student of that.’ I care not for your stupid games. I make the games…”

I reach down for my clothes and hold them in my fist as I slowly back up into the snow, creating distance as I smirk, “And I do not play yours.”

I continue to back up, using my ferocious and forceful words to hopefully get them to back off too. Perhaps, at least I secretly hope, they’ll start fighting.

There is nothing more attractive and nothing I have ever witnessed that has made my blood warm like the way they move.

I bite my lip, hoping for it…foolishly forgetting that as Silver Breeds they have extreme empathy.

They can read, simply with their eyes, the color of my aura and, therefore, my feelings—and sometimes, even thoughts—if the thoughts stemming from my emotions are strong enough.

“Oh, darling,” Rawk pouts and smiles, “you are so cute, I could eat you right now.”

“She did not choose you, do not even think about taking her or touching her.” Zoraul steps forward, putting up his hand to Rawk and holding out a hand to me. “Be my Student of Disobedience.”

I pause as I back off. I have one more question. “If I am a student to one of you,” I ask, “what does that make either of you?”

“Master,” they both say at the same time, and as they do, they share irritated looks with one another for being so perfectly in sync.

Clearly the fools despised how well they were together—and preferred to keep the hate alive.

“Excuse me?” I ask, tilting my head and pretending to put forward my ear. “Did you say…Master?” I slowly take steps toward them.

My decision is final. Running is no longer an option. I will not tolerate hearing the word Master, not even the mere utterance of it.

“As your mates, we are your Masters…regardless of consequence,” Zoraul speaks reasonably while Rawk nods.

“He speaks the truth…now we simply need her choice…and it seems my little darling is changing her mind?” Rawk asks me, trying to be as smooth as his brother and sounding a little silly for it.

“Our, darling,” Zoraul murmurs under his breath, and each brother is momentarily distracted by my slow steps toward them.

They are unaware I am stalking them. I am not approaching them for discussions any longer.

Each twin shares a look—a mere glimpse—of recognition of a better time long ago. Perhaps even love… I use this to my advantage.

I pounce.

I latch onto Rawk’s arm and sink my teeth into his shoulder, swinging my body around him as I land, crouched behind him, before I pounce again.

Zoraul tries to dodge but I grab a fistful of his long hair. I jerk him toward me and I manage to wrap my teeth into his thigh as I slide across the snow.

Both lethal bites will probably kill my mates.

I do not care.

As I slide to my feet gracefully and turn to put my hands on my hips, I watch each brother grimace, scowl, and hunch with the slow-spreading venom that will eventually make their blood rot to black.

“I gave you both my biggest dose,” I whisper.

“Welcome to my games—if you survive. And Rawk? I want you to know…if I had to choose, I would have chosen Zoraul. No one tames me. No one. I will pray for you in the other realm—when you’re both dead. Now I am a free woman and a free Fire-Spitter. Good day.”

I turn and waltz off into the trees with a skip in my step.

However, I overhear their words before I go.

“So…she is living up to her reputation,” I hear Rawk growl.

“She chose me,” Zoraul laughs, “You will be alone forever—you will be like Storm, spending at least seven centuries alone, before I even allow you to see our mate’s face again.”

“Cruel words, brother. I will kill you just the same and take her for myself. Just watch me.”

“But perhaps we will die first from our mate’s brutal attack?” Zoraul asks.

Rawk replies but I do not hear the words. I refuse to hang around and wait any longer. And I admit, I don’t truly want them to die.

Fire-Spitters just had a long history of testing their mate’s worth… And there were plenty of more challenges for them to face—if they survived my venom.

But for now? I will run and—nope. I will hunt. I’m hungry.

Then I will run.