Imani
I hated men with ego and no money - then when he's ugly too...
Ugh... Just kill me!
I had long recovered from my initial shock and now I was pissed. I gathered what was left of my spittle at the back of my throat and aimed it at his eyes, but it landed close to his helmet rolling down his body suit.
"Coward!" I called out. "Untie me, and I'll take you any time, any day. Men like you are the reason why I'd rather sell myself to a thousand men than settle."
He stared at me for a few seconds, then raised his sword. I stared defiantly into his eyes, refusing to beg like the other women. If this was death number two, and from a man like him, I didn't think he deserved to hear me scream. I'd face it standing.
And then…
A deafening, distant roar that rapidly grew louder echoed through the sky. The crowd's bloodthirsty cheers turned to gasps, followed by screams of a different kind – terror.
The butcher turned; his sword was still raised as a shadow passed over the arena.
Something massive blotted out the sun. Wings like massive ship sails stretched across the sky and scales gleaming like burnished copper.
I squinted, staring at the newcomer as my mouth hung open.
A dragon – an actual fucking dragon.
Just when I thought this would not get any crazier.
The dragon came closer and suspended in mid-air, opening its mouth to reveal rows of teeth longer than my arm.
Its eyes were fixed on the butcher, who was moving backwards already. Before I could blink twice, the Dragon opened its mouth, and a torrent of blue-white flame came out, engulfing the butcher. His scream was cut short as his body crumpled into ash.
The crowd was panicking now. Many people were rushing towards the exits. Guards rushed forward with spears, but they were too far away to reach me yet.
This was my chance.
Years on the streets had taught me one thing: When chaos breaks, you move or die. I twisted harder, ignoring the searing pain as the ropes tore my skin. I worked my right hand in small circles, using my blood as a lubricant, feeling the restraint loosen each time I rolled my wrist.
Finally, the dragon landed on the platform with a crash that splintered the wood. It was even more terrifying up close – like the size of a city bus with scales that shifted between copper and gold in the sunlight. Its amber eyes were glowing.
And those eyes were now fixed directly on me.
I froze for a split second, certain I was about to be burned alive. But instead of roasting me, the dragon let out a low, rumbling sound almost like a purr.
With one final desperate twist, my right hand slipped free. It was bloodied, but none of the bones were broken. I quickly worked to untie my left hand.
Somewhere, the crowds were still stampeding at each other at the exits. As soon as both hands were free, I ran.
Not toward the dragon – God forbid. I wasn't that crazy but toward the far side of the arena. There had to be an exit, a service door, something.
Behind me, I heard the dragon moving, its feet thudding and shaking the earth. I didn't look back; I just ran faster.
I reached the wall of the arena and ran alongside it, searching frantically for a door, a gate, or any opening. Nothing. Just seamless stone and too high to climb.
The sound of the dragon grew closer. Risking a glance over my shoulder and nearly tripping, I saw it wasn't charging or flying or trying to bring out fire like before – it was deliberately walking, almost stalking me, like a cat toying with a mouse.
I veered left, then right, zigzagging across the arena floor, grateful for all the pilates classes I took thrice every week. I was in good shape, at least. My lungs burned, and my legs were trembling from exertion and fear. But there was nowhere to go. No escape.
This is it. This is how I die – again.
Finally, my back hit a corner where two walls met. I was trapped. Great!
I turned to face the dragon, panting heavily. It approached slowly until it stood just ten feet away. Its massive head lowered until those amber eyes were level with mine.
I felt myself getting lost in its gaze, and there was this unexplainable pull; it felt like some reassurance that everything would be alright.
How please?
This is a dragon, a fire-spitting creature that is supposed to be extinct. How did I even end up here?
I swear, if this was all Vanessa's plan for me to leave her husband?
Honestly, you win. I would never win against a woman who has the ability to summon live dragons and people with wolves as pets.
The dragon growled again, causing all the hairs on my body to stand. Then, to my astonishment, it crouched down on the ground, still watching me. Its tail, which was longer than a semi-trailer, swept around in a semicircle, creating a barrier between me and the rest of the arnea.
Was he waiting for the fire to warm up properly or what? I wondered silently.
I stood perfectly still, afraid to even breathe deeply. The dragon settled its massive body, curling slightly around me but leaving space. I could feel the heat emanating from its body.
Suddenly, the crowd started gasping again, louder this time, but it was not because of the dragon's strange behaviour. A figure was sliding down from behind the dragon's wings—a man I hadn't noticed before.
He landed with the grace of a cat, and even from the distance, I could feel him radiating a powerful aura. Men like him were usually rich.
He was tall, with copper hair that fell just past his shoulders and a beautiful face. His expression was a cold mask as he walked toward me, his eyes never leaving mine—eyes that matched the dragon's exact shade of amber.
I pressed my back against the wall, wishing I could melt into the stone. He walked with the confidence of someone who had never been refused anything before.
But before he could reach me, another figure leapt from the stands, landing between us.
This new man was equally tall, maybe 6'4, but broader. He had dark brown hair that was almost black and slightly tousled. There was a prominent scar on his collarbone, too, and he wore some kind of uniform emblazoned with a wolf's head.
"My Lord Rhaziel," the new man said calmly, wedging himself between me and the dragon man. "I'll take it from here. She belongs to my pack."
The copper-haired man – Rhaziel – stopped. His eyes darkened, flashing dangerously.
When he spoke, it was a single word uttered with such possessive fury that it sent a shiver down my spine.
"No! Mine."