Dragon's Pet

Minx

Moonlight—ah, the beauty of it. It is midnight and it is chilly—but it’s also, for once, a rare clear night sky. I am lying back against the edge of a little plateau looking over a lake.

While I am out in the open, I’m buried in snow, using it for warmth. My human head is poking out of my snow sack like a babe wrapped in a swaddle of white.

My rabbit hat is snug around my head, however, and I have a smile on my lips.

“Sweet…sweet sky…” I murmur to myself as I get sleepy. I feel so at peace here.

After careful consideration three days ago when I left my rival mates, I decided to fly far, far away. I was sick 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. This area contains a mild climate. The winds aren’t as feisty here and the cold isn’t so biting to the flesh.

“Sweet…sweet meals…” I sigh, content, as I think about my dinner. Four deer. I binged, I admit, but I was very 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 very big, black eyes gazing at me in hope—from a fist-sized Dragon. Yes, it is miniature. 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 is with R…with Mr. Dragon Lord,” the golden-haired Fire-Spitter says, shaking her head. “Give me my sister.”

“No,” I hold both my hand and Snoot-Snoot closer to my chest. “Why is your mama not looking for Bezzel? Tell me the truth.”

“She…” The little girl tries to resist my dominant pheromones but she cannot. “She is sleeping, she is not with our Dragon Lord,” she whispers.

“Who is your Dragon Lord? Do not say Rawk or I will be very angry,” I say straight to the point, but my words have all the Fire-Spitters shaking their heads at me suspiciously.

“Come with me to say hello to our Dragon Lord…R-Raoul,” one older Fire-Spitter gentleman with a bright green and blue eye says, stepping forward. “Minx, your name is?”

“Yes… How did you…?” I trail off as the gentleman comes closer.

“Follow me, you are famous for your violet hair, Minx. You are a legend Bellum Minima Dominus who influenced our breed years back when you were but a child. My name is Faux.”

As Faux ushers me inside, I follow him. “Bezzel seems to like you; you can look after her before her mother wakes. Follow me.”

“To…Raoul?” I ask, raising a brow.

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

I have a feeling this is a trap. Screw that, I don’t have a feeling. It’s obvious.

However, if my Dragon mates really did survive my strongest venom, they have proven to be strong idiots. Or at least one has.

Rawk.

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

I do not run because now I am looking for a fight.