She could have killed one of my dearest friends!
But instead, my eyes fall on the large arrow protruding from her chest and my heart sinks again. They attacked first. She was simply returning to her mountain.
The dragon isn’t to blame, I realize as I take a hesitant step near her. “Will you be alright? What can I do to help?”
“Vanir has done enough,” she snaps, twisting her neck to bite at the arrow. She misses time and time again.
“Let me,” I whisper, moving closer. Something tells me I should be very afraid of an injured dragon. Even injured dogs and cats can be vicious. Something this size? Something with this much power? She could incinerate me without even meaning to. Animals lash out when they’re hurt.
So do humans, I remind myself as I take another step toward her.
The arrow is strange. It’s metal, all the way through, from what I can tell. Perhaps that’s why it pierced the dragon’s hide so easily. “I’m going to remove it,” I whisper, staring up into one of her large pink eyes.
“It will—” before she can finish her sentence, I wrap my hand around the arrow and pull with all my might. The sick sound of flesh tearing as the barbs pull backwards through the skin twists my stomach.
“Arghh!” the dragon roars, rearing back on her hind legs. Between that and my own weight pulling on the arrow, it finally slips free. I fall backward, my ass hitting the stone floor as she screeches her pain and fury toward the ceiling. Fire falls from her nostrils and several short burst of fire char the rock above us.
Blood pours from the wound, coating the stone at her feet. My eyes widen as the dragon’s scales begin to shimmer with a strange light.
“Dragon, are you al—”
“I’m fine,” she growls as she stumbles forward. When her front claws hit the ground, she sways from side to side. I scramble backward, scared she might fall on me if I don’t move. She takes one last step before her scales shimmer again and her form shifts. She shrinks before my eyes even as she falls over, her scales receding into perfect almond colored skin. My eyes go wide as Niressa’s head hits the ground and I rush forward.
“Oh Gods,” I murmur, pressing my hand to the open wound above her breast. Blood quickly seeps through my fingers, panic surging through my chest as I glance around for something that will help. With only treasure and weapons in sight, I blow out a shaky breath and pull the blouse over my head I press it to her skin, applying as much pressure as I can.
Sweat beads on her forehead and a strangled noise dies in the back of my throat. “Fuck!” I whimper, glancing around the room again for something I can use to help her.
Treasure. Gold. More gold. Swords. Other weapons.
Fire pit.
Fire pit!
I can cauterize the wound. Dary’s father loves telling the story about how he had to do something similar to his favorite knight when he was gouged by a wild boar. It was the only thing that saved the man’s life.
It takes some maneuvering, but I manage to wrap the shirt around her chest and pin it beneath her body, keeping some modicum of pressure on the wound as I scurry away to grab what I need.
I take off down the tunnel, running as fast as I can. The torch in my bedchamber is the only one not seared to the wall, I remember. I slide through the entrance and pull it down, then rush back the way I came. I run my finger along a pile of treasure, searching for the sword I know I saw before. When my finger finds the hilt, I pull it free, my heart pounding in my chest.
She’s going to die. I just know she’s going to die. I didn’t think dragons were so easily killed, but I also didn’t know they could turn into women. So, what do I know, really? They could be anything, at this point, and I wouldn’t be shocked.
I hold the edge of the blade in the flame as I walk back to where she lays, her long her curly hair spilling across the stone floor around her. The blouse is already soaked with blood.
Swallowing hard, I watch as the tip of the sword begins to glow from the heat and my anxiety spikes. I have no idea how her biology works. She can wield fire, though, so at the very least . . . this shouldn’t be detrimental.
Sitting the torch down, I struggle to keep the tip of the sword in the flame as I undo makeshift bandage around Niressa’s chest.
“Gods, help me. Help her,” I mutter as I look at the gaping wound the strange arrow left behind. Before I can talk myself out of it, I plunge the piping hot sword into her the wound, careful not to go too deep and close my eyes.
The sound of flesh sizzling meets my ears, but no screaming. Is she dead? I pull the sword free, and watch, praying her chest is still rising and falling with breath.
It is.
One look at the wound tells me I’m not done with my work yet. I grimace as I repeat the process, reheating the sword until it’s glowing red again. I press the blade flat over the wound to seal it and wince as the sizzling of skin fills the air again.
I can’t even process the stench.
If I focus on it, I’ll be sick. I know it. When I’m satisfied the wound is sealed, I throw the sword down and lean back on my hands, staring down at the sorceress—or dragon—with my eyebrows cinched together.
“You can change into a woman. Or you can change into a dragon?” I muse out loud, knowing full well she can’t hear me. Pressing my palm to her forehead, I check her temperature. She feels cool to the touch and that doesn’t seem right for a dragon, at all. I glance at the torch where it sits beside us and groan.
“I have no idea how to care for you,” I admit as I cast another glance at the woman laying on the cold stone floor. Her bare breasts rise and fall with each breath she takes and somewhere amidst my worry, I find it hard not to notice the beautiful contrast of her nipples against her skin. Whatever deep sleep she’s in, it doesn’t seem like she’s going to wake anytime soon. “Please don’t die,” I whisper, watching her passive face as she sleeps. I don’t know why it’s so important.
She’s kidnapped me.
Lied to me.
She’s not even human . . . but . . . she was also kind to me. In both of her forms, she took the time to make sure I was alright, to encourage me, to make sure my needs were met while I’m here.
It’s a strange thing but I feel . . . beholden to her somehow.
I scrunch my nose up and hurry back down the tunnel to find a blanket to cover her with. As much as I enjoy the view of her lying there naked, she needs to be warmer. She needs to be much warmer. When she grabbed my hand before, it felt like she might burn me. The fact that she feels as cool as ice now can’t be a good sign.
Rifling through her room, I manage to find two blankets and a soft down pillow. As I carry them out into the cavern, I’m struck again by how beautiful she is laid out on the ground. The curve of her hips has me rolling my eyes heavenward for patience as I tuck the blankets around her, then slide the pillow beneath her head.
My fingers comb through her curls as I stare down at her for a moment, wondering if she will make it, wondering if all dragons can change forms, wondering why I’ve never heard of such a thing before now.
I find myself also wondering if the reason I find myself drawn to her is because of the magic she wields. If she can change forms from woman to dragon, what else can she do? I sigh, stepping away from the sleeping beauty and start working on building a fire to keep her warm.