The Twin Dragons Series: Dragon's Pet

Minx

Three days later

The moonlight is beautiful tonight. It’s midnight and it’s cold, but the sky is clear for once. I’m lying against the edge of a small plateau overlooking a lake.

I’m out in the open, but I’m buried in snow for warmth. My head is poking out of my snow sack like a baby swaddled in white.

My rabbit hat is snug around my head and I have a smile on my face.

“Sweet…sweet sky…” I murmur to myself as I start to drift off. I feel so peaceful here.

Three days ago, I decided to leave my rival mates and fly far away. I was tired of not feeling peace, so I traveled back the way I had come until I felt settled enough to land.

I flew from Scar Town to the Ice Rocks—a mountain of blue, white, and green. The climate here is mild. The winds aren’t as harsh and the cold isn’t as biting.

“Sweet…sweet meals…” I sigh, content, thinking about my dinner. Four deer. I admit, I overate, but I was really hungry after flying nonstop for almost twelve hours.

“Sweet…sweet freedom…”

I hear a little squeaky purr behind me. It’s high pitched, like a…a little fledgling Fire-Spitter.

I roll my eyes back and see two big, black eyes looking at me hopefully—from a fist-sized Dragon. Yes, it’s tiny. It’s almost a newborn.

I blow air at it and it drops its raised paw to hop closer, snuggling into my neck while shivering. The little yellow baby Dragon lets out a trembling whine of complaint.

“Are you lost?” I ask, blinking rapidly.

How could someone lose their baby?

Eventually, the Fire-Spitter breathes a rattled, barely warm breath against me as if it’s struggling to keep warm.

I sit up quickly, catching the little ball of yellow in my palms while I tilt my head at the funny thing and narrow my eyes.

“What is your name?” I ask, knowing full well it can’t tell me this young.

The yellow Dragon shivers and snoots at me. Nope, it doesn’t snort—it snoots. It’s a mixture of sneezing and crying and snorting.

“Fine, you’re now called Snoot—the Silly Snoot,” I growl and my natural pheromones for leadership calm the little Fire-Spitter. “You won’t survive out here, Snoot-Snoot, I need to find your mama.”

I jump to my feet and place Snoot-Snoot into my bra, between my breasts so she can sit in the middle, acting as a tiny pouch.

I watch her butt fall in and her little head pokes out while she purrs against my chest.

I sigh and look around the empty landscape. I have no idea where this newborn has come from. All I know is that it had to come from somewhere close by.

My terrain is snow, a bit of forest, a bit of lake and ice…and then a rocky outcrop into a hill. It isn’t even a mountain.

It’s more like a rocky face…with a couple of caves. It’s a couple of miles away, but I decide to walk toward it.

The moment I start walking, I hear a little coo of hunger from my chest. When I glance down, Snoot-Snoot is drooling, looking ravenous for meat.

“Soon,” I promise. “Soon, Silly Snoot-Snoot.”

While she leans her head back against the side of my breast with a contented nod, I smile.

I feel protective of this little newborn. I have to get her back to her mama soon.

I eventually make it to the rocky outcrop, where I halt as I see a…a sliver of a mirage.

I narrow my eyes, knowing there is a Tempest Breed around here somewhere.

However, this isn’t a bad thing. It just means Dragons are nearby and that means Snoot-Snoot isn’t alone after all.

“Soon, Silly—” Suddenly I step through the mirage and my eyes widen at the structure I missed completely while outside the spell.

Past the barrier of magic, the rocky outcrop becomes steep and much larger.

It’s still mostly rocks and boulders, but there are warm and small bundle fires coming out of windows, so many windows—people, Dragons, and possibly mages reside here.

Before me is a huge cave entry point with two Silver Breed guards holding torches, wearing leather pants, and guarding the entrance to this mystical place.

I approach them without hesitation.

“I have a missing Fire-Sp—”

“Yes. This way,” one of the guards cuts me off and allows me to enter.

I watch each guard move aside and I put it down to the fact that I am a Fire-Spitter and, therefore, respected and trusted to look after one of my own.

I nod my thanks toward them both as I enter the cave systems, which are instantly warmer.

Snoot-Snoot pokes her head out farther and pops out her claws to rest on the middle of my bra as she takes in the sites of the obvious Dragon Horde we’ve entered.

Only Dragon Hordes stick to cave systems like these.

The moment I pass through the winding main cave corridors lined with torches, the system opens up into a cavern.

It’s a medium-sized cavern with Fire-Spitters lounging about by fires or couches. Some nap in odd alcoves in the rock wall.

The moment I enter, all the heads turn to me and a silence quickly descends. As I raise my chin, my pheromones eventually reach their nostrils.

They will know I am a Bellum Minima Dominus.

“Silly Snoot-Snoot is lost,” I call out. Reaching up my hand, the yellow Fire-Spitter hops out into my palm, sits, and wags her tail. “Who is the mama? Or who is the papa?”

“Oh, that is my little sister.” A girl with brilliant golden hair runs forward. She looks about six years old as she comes to stand before me. “Her name is Bezzel—but Silly Snoot-Snoot is better. She is a silly adventurer.”

“Where is your mama?” I ask. “I wish to return Snoot-Snoot to her directly.”

“Mama’s with R…with Mr. Dragon Lord,” the golden-haired Fire-Spitter says, her head shaking. “Give me my sister.”

“No,” I pull my hand and Snoot-Snoot closer to my chest. “Why isn’t your mama looking for Bezzel? Tell me the truth.”

“She…” The little girl tries to fight against my overpowering pheromones, but she can’t. “She’s sleeping, she’s not with our Dragon Lord,” she whispers.

“Who’s your Dragon Lord? If you say Rawk, I’ll be pissed,” I say, cutting to the chase. But my words only make the Fire-Spitters look at me with suspicion.

“Come with me to meet our Dragon Lord…R-Raoul,” an older Fire-Spitter man with a bright green and blue eye steps forward. “You’re Minx, right?”

“Yes… How did you…?” My words trail off as the man steps closer.

“Follow me. You’re famous for your purple hair, Minx. You’re a legend Bellum Minima Dominus who impacted our breed years ago when you were just a kid. My name’s Faux.”

As Faux guides me inside, I follow him. “Bezzel seems to like you; you can take care of her until her mother wakes up. Follow me.”

“To…Raoul?” I ask, an eyebrow raised.

“Ah, yes, yes,” he says, nodding, and I follow him.

I can’t shake the feeling that this is a trap. Scratch that, it’s not a feeling. It’s obvious.

But if my Dragon mates really did survive my strongest venom, they’ve proven to be tough idiots. Or at least one has.

Rawk.

He obviously planned to let a newborn Fire-Spitter escape. It naturally found its way to me and I blindly walked right into his lair.

I don’t run because now I’m ready for a fight.