Chapter Two

 

It becomes very clear, very fast, that the people bidding for me are very rich – and using a currency I'm not familiar with. They call the money drots, and though I've heard some of the women selling for around fifty thousand drots, I seem to be heading for the millions. Part of me is flattered by this. I'm high value goods to these people. Something to be desired, to be taken. Not arousing at all. Nope.

 

Eventually, it turns into a bidding war between the two dragon shifters, as they've outbid everyone else on the matter. I notice a lot of sullen glances as the shifters aggressively raise the price higher and higher.

 

I take the time to discreetly check them out again. Dragon shifter a, the green eyed one, has blond hair and tanned skin, and he was the one complaining about the other shifter, who referred to him as a princeling whore.

 

He's handsome enough, I suppose. If I am going to end up a sex slave or whatever it is these people are selling me off for, it might be more bearable if I at least like the look of the person. Not that I particularly want to be a slave or anything, but I can't see myself getting out of this. My brain keeps chasing scenarios, but I know some clans still live far isolated from humans, in hard to access areas, or regions where we'd struggle to survive, like the tundras of Canada. The other one, with the amber eyes, has jet black hair and the hint of stubble upon his noble chin. The amber eyes have a smoldering, hooded look to them, as if he's permanently half asleep, but serve to add to his attractiveness.

 

I wonder if I'll scream when I see them shift and become huge, fire breathing dragons the size of houses. Or if they're more the size of horses, or komodo dragons. They've held documentaries on T.V about the types of shifters, but David Attenborough or Bruce Parry never got around to the mythical ones, due to their “elusive and secretive natures.”

 

The dragon shifters explode into argument when it's clear that neither plan to give ground on me. I'm almost amused.

 

“Well, you could share me,” I say, more to add some silliness to the mood, to put an absurd spin to it to help me cope, “It's not like I'm going anywhere fast.”

 

The auctioneer shoots me a warning glance. He's worried I might incite a riot, and for good reason, I suppose.

 

However, the dragon shifters fall silent at this. Eventually, the blonde one says, “You know what, that's not the worst idea I've heard.”

 

“I'm outbidding you on every turn,” the black haired one snaps. “I won't share.”

“And I'll keep outbidding you.” The blonde taps his foot. “Look, I know we have our differences, and I know you're still mad at me for cheating on you...”

 

Now everyone in the audience turns to gape at these two as they launch into their tirade. The auctioneer as well appears riveted.

 

“... but it's been three years, now. And I told you why I did it and everything.”

 

“Did you really have to bring it up here? Now? In this place?” The amber eyed one looks ready to spit fire.

 

“Well, no. But I wanted to.”

 

“Do we have a new bid?” The auctioneer ventures to say. Both shifters tell him to shut up at the same time, and he shrinks behind his podium, utterly baffled.

 

“I'll just pay you or you pay me after the bid's done. We'll sort it out between our families. And we'll share.”

 

“Unnecessary effort,” the amber one retorts. “It would be far easier to just have a new woman.”

 

“But I want to be able to see you again. To be friends again.”

 

“You broke that chance when you...” The amber eyed one falls silent.

 

“... Broke your heart?” The blonde supplies.

 

The amber eyed one says nothing in response.

“Holy shit,” I say.

 

The others in the audience seem to share my sentiment.

 

Suddenly, these two shifters look far less like alien entities hell bent on enslaving me and having their wicked way, but more like jilted lovers using me as an opportunity to reforge their friendship.

 

I'm really not sure how to react to that. I don't think anyone here does.

 

Under a great deal of confusion, and a few more half-hearted attempts of protest from the amber eyed shifter, I'm sold to the blonde for thirty-six million drots, with a promise of the money total being split between them, so they're paying eighteen million each.

 

I'm herded off the stage, numb, wondering what sort of crazy land I've just stumbled into.

 

Later on, when the auctions finally wrap up, I'm approached by the two shifters and their entourage, other shifters with dragon pendants upon them.

 

“Are you going to play nice or are we going to have to drag you with us in chains?” The blonde asks.

 

“I'll play nice.”

 

The blonde nods. “Great. Thanks for the suggestion, by the way. It was brilliant. I'm Alaric.” The blonde reaches out a calloused hand to grasp mine. I reluctantly take it, deciding antagonizing my captors is not the best way to go about things. His hand is surprisingly warm, sending a pleasant tingle through my arm. “The broody one here is called Cael.”

Cael has his arms folded, clearly regretting the decision he's just made.

 

“Am I allowed to ask questions? Because I have a few.”

 

“You are. But not now. We need to get going. We can organize how we'll share you later.”

 

“One question. Please?”

 

Alaric shrugs. “Make it quick.”

 

“What's my purpose?”

 

Alaric purses his lips, regarding me in interest. My heart beats a little faster, and I silently curse when I note I'm finding him seriously attractive. “We're looking for a suitable woman to be a royal consort and to bear children. Only the most beautiful will do.” Alaric smiles wanly. I notice something about the dragon shifters. All of them are male. “There are no female dragons. And not a whole lot of pretty women who are willing to give up their lives and live in the mountains. So a lot of us resort to black market auctions to get what we need.”

 

“Huh.” I should be alarmed at the announcement, but instead I'm intrigued. Against my will. I've just been given a dip into the faint politics of an existence far removed from me. And, well. Royal consort? Prettiest woman?

 

Nice coating for the fact that I'm to be a breeding cow.

 

“Okay, I have another before you do your thing. How would... sharing me even work?”

 

At this, Alaric frowns. “We'll sort that out later. Now, come. Choose one of us to ride. Or be carried in our talons. It doesn't matter to me which.”

 

They step back, and I watch in terrified awe as they both transform upon the ledge that juts out over a rather imposing cliff, flattening shrubbery and grass as they do so.

Alaric resembles a pea green dragon, scales glistening with a cyan sheen in places, and he towers above me in height, easily reaching about ten meters in height. Those talons of his certainly look large enough to grasp me, or crush me. I take several steps back. Cael, on the other hand, resembles a copper colored dragon, slightly bulkier and spikier than Alaric, who is all smooth scales and less pain. I'm not so sure about the idea of sitting on Cael's ridged back, though there looks like some grooves where I could settle into, just behind the drill of his horns that protrude from the back of his skull.

“I'll, uh, just climb onto Alaric then,” I say. “He's less spiky. I don't think I want to be accidentally impaled.”

 

Under the dark glares of what I presume to be the royal guards, I clamber up onto Alaric's back, then instantly decide that maybe I should have considered Cael after all, because the spikes would have locked me in place. The best place I find is just behind Alaric's frilled head, as the horns there are easy to latch onto, and there's a small bump I can just about settle into to. He flaps his wings, and lifts up all four legs off the ground in a massive sweep of wings, which sound like the billow of sails in a strong sea wind.

 

I gasp and cling onto the horns that jut out from his head, and duck into the frill to avoid the cold blast of air that whips at me. It's still cold, but not as cold, and my thighs grip onto his serpentine neck, and the world around me spins.

 

Gone is the auction area, and I see a flock of shifters transform also into dragons, launching themselves off behind Cael, who beats his enormous wings in the air. I shiver as I cling on, the awesome sight unfolding before me, filling me with deep awe.

 

It's magnificent. I mean, it still doesn't change the fact that I'm going to be pimped out to some dragon princes, but it does make me feel better that at least Alaric deigned to explain some things to me, and gave me the choice to do this, rather than lug me about like a sack of potatoes.

 

As little control as I do have, there's still some sliver of dignity left that I'm allowed to cling onto. That means a lot to me.

 

Of course, I'm going to see what I can do to escape, but I have to first examine the situation, and work out how best to play it to my advantage.

 

The sky around me and the world below is a delight. It's similar to being in the window seat of an airplane, except a lot more, uh, visceral, and a hell of a lot more frightening, given I have no safety belt, and if Alaric decides to do a barrel roll in the sky, I'm dropping off and plummeting to a grisly death onto the forests below.

The awe dies off when the temperature settles in. Alaric flaps at a blistering pace, his wings making loud swoops of noise with every movement, and I notice the scenery below me shifting from grassy plains and cities to snow-choked plains and snow-capped mountains. We're heading north through Canada, at least as fast as a plane, and now I'm starting to wish I could be a lot warmer than how I'm currently wrapped up. When I was kidnapped, it was getting near the evening. Here, it seems to be the launch of a new morning, suggesting I've been out a while before the auction. My stomach gives a growl, as if to confirm.

 

The journey continues for a while. I don't think the dragons can speak in their animal/lizard/dinosaur forms, and I highly doubt I'd be able to hear them anyway over the roaring of the wind. Eventually we start losing height, and our destination seems to be a very snowy mountain in the near distance, over icy tundras and isolated villages, towns and cities that can barely be classed as them.

 

Although Alaric's scales are warm, like a mini furnace existing just underneath his skin, and they help heat up my extremities, I'm still mostly cold, and I think my cheeks are in danger of falling off my face, even with me pressing them against his scales.

 

I notice a small contingent of dragons break off, and they swerve towards a mountain that's parallel to this one. Cael appears to be part of that group, cementing the proof that they belong to different tribes. Different kingdoms, I suppose.

 

We land upon Alaric's mountain a short while later, early in the afternoon, and I'm greeted with what I assume is a dragon city.

 

It's less a city though in the traditional sense of things, and more like a huge catacomb network of caves where the dragons reside. Each cave mouth has two entrances. A small door for human forms, and a large one for dragon forms. Alaric trots along to a cave with an ornately carved purple symbol on the door, and pushes his weight against it until it swings inward. Then, he continues his awkward, jarring gait, folding his wings close to his sides as he moves through a dim tunnel, before arriving in a cavernous room. I notice the odd contrast of the room. Part of it is human sized, with furniture, drapes, a kitchen unit and other trappings which look almost modern. The other part is clearly for dragon forms, and has a huge hearth, plush cushions and scratching stones, as well as a suspicious collection of charred bones.

 

I notice no one has followed us. It's just me and Alaric. I don't know what this means, but it sends a slight pang of foreboding through me.

 

I'm already unhappy at the fact we're far too removed from human civilization for me to get in easy contact with them. Not to mention that we're on the top of a fucking mountain, with sheer descents that would likely end with me tumbling to a certain death.

 

Alaric shakes himself slightly, and I take it as my cue to slide off, my feet jarring as I hit the stone floor. Alaric's form then constricts into itself, forming into that jovial human form, with green sparkling eyes, blonde sandwashed hair, and tanned skin.

 

He examines me critically for a moment, then says, “Well, better get you wrapped up. We'll need to introduce you to my father, and then you'll likely need to be given to Cael's father as well, so they can see the deal we've negotiated.”

 

Although he sounds reasonable, I recognize the tone of inflexibility in his voice. If I disobey or protest too much, he probably isn't going to act quite as friendly as he is now. Whatever the case, I'm still here for one reason.

 

I've been bought. For them, I'm their property. My mind wanders to my mother and father, who must be confused as to where I am by now. My mom phones me every day just to say hi. This will be the first day I haven't stuck to the pattern. Soon enough, North Carolina might report me missing. They might speculate it's to do with shifters, though they can never be quite so sure.

 

A sudden pang of loneliness hits me as I venture into chambers that look especially prepared for me, with a wardrobe full of thick fur robes, designed to insulate against the cold. There's gloves, thick socks, hats and a face cover as well. In the room next to my sleeping chamber, which is a four poster bed with red drapes over it, actually pretty luxurious looking – I see a room with a bathtub, and intricate piping panning from the walls. Curious, I adjust one of the copper faucets, and water gushes out into the tub, rapidly turning steaming hot, leaving delicious trails of heat into the air. I shiver in involuntary delight.

 

I squeak it off, before I hear Alaric's soft voice drift through the cavern. “Wait a moment. Your handmaidens will be with you shortly.”

 

Handmaidens? Just as I'm registering what he's said, three women dressed in thick robes filter through the chamber from corridors beyond my chambers – suggesting they're all interconnected.

 

All of them bow to me and refer to me as princess. Thoroughly embarrassed, I ask them to not do that, and they act completely horrified at my suggestion.

 

“No, princess! We couldn't do that. Come, we must prepare you to meet our king.”

I notice the handmaidens have odd colored eyes, such as red, gold, and near white. It's unnerving, and I don't know if I want to ask or can ask what that's all about.

The handmaidens are a little rough with me, but I don't have the stomach to resist. They run the bath, strip me off, and I'm made to dip into it. My back is scrubbed, my hair is washed, and then they help towel me off and dress me in fine, gray and silver robes, perfectly fitting about my form. A reddish scarf is wrapped around my neck, and I'm a little frazzled at the pampering I've gotten. Slaves looking after slaves.

What kind of society have I gotten myself into?

 

Hina, Mirata and Callie parade me in front of a mirror once they've finished decking me up.

 

Then, I'm taken out of the cavern, arm locked in Alaric's, followed by my handmaidens and his servants, and we're taken to a large, carved out castle in the mountain, a bastion of stone, and presented to Alaric's father, a regal looking shifter sat upon a golden throne. Treasures adorn the walls, and a notable heap of gold coins lies all around his opulent throne, as if just to show off exactly how much wealth he possesses. He's dismissive of me and proud of Alaric for finding a way to breach the hole in the former alliance of the Red clan and the Spike clan.

 

Vaguely plotting how I'm going to steal such treasures and take them home with me, I'm taken back out again.

 

“My father doesn't know I hooked up with Cael,” Alaric confesses, frowning towards the castle door. “He suspected I was spending too much time with him, and presented me with a pretty woman in the hope I'd be able to carry off the family legacy.”

 

Several things click into place. “Ah. So you did that to appease your father?”

 

“Yes.” Alaric nods. “But I wanted to keep seeing Cael in secret. He didn't take to it kindly. As for the woman, she got abducted by a prince from the Sapphire clan instead.”

 

“Huh.” Less surprised to hear about dragons stealing each other's women, given that Alaric had already explained to me their scarcity so high up, I'm more interested to hear about their fractured relationship. “Didn't she like you much?”

 

“Oh, she thought I was okay. The other guy though looked like a Khal Drogo in human form. Big impressive black dragon. She prefers his type, so was quite happy to be stolen.”

 

Something strange is happening to me as I listen to his nonchalant comments. My thoughts are entertaining the idea of being ravaged by both Alaric and Cael, and I have absolutely no idea where they're coming from. Maybe it's do to with the peculiar musky scent of brimstone and fire that emanates from his body, or the pheromones he secretes. My mind starts imagining them stripping me, forcing the clothes off my back, pinning me to the ground and taking me by force, unable to do anything to resist. I imagine any protests I make will die upon my lips, as they scratch their nails over my body, dig their teeth into my skin, and seek out my greedy, wet core with their erections, filling up every hole possible.

 

Oh God. I can tell Alaric smells the heat from me as well, sees the flush on my skin, and his eyes dilate slightly. Briefly, his fingers trail over my cheeks.

 

“Interesting,” he says. “You're turning out to be... quite the surprise, aren't you?”

I glare as his fingers dip into the gap in my neck, lightly scouring along my collarbone, before he lifts them back out. He takes an audible breath. “Mount me. I'm going to have to take you to the Spike clan and to Cael.”

Mount him? The salacious thought bubbles through my consciousness, sending a random urge to giggle in my body, before I sober up. This isn't fun and games. It's far from it. I'm removed from the human world, surrounded by dragons, pampered by handmaidens...

 

Alaric shifts, and I'm on his back, flying to the other mountain, my handmaidens and his servants left behind, watching us go. Now wrapped up more appropriately, the cold doesn't bite into my skin so much, and I'm able to appreciate the scenery better, instead of half shivering in my position behind the frill of his skull.

 

When we land on the opposing mountain a few minutes later, we're greeted by members of the Spike clan, all of them with similar features to Cael. Cael himself waits in the main throne room with his father and mother, and when Alaric and I walk in, it's grandiose though in a different style. Where Alaric's father draped everything in gaudy gold and scarlet colors, and had treasures lying decadently around the throne, Cael's father has opted for military style patterns, with simple green and black tapestries, green carpets, and an burnished throne made out of redwood, an interesting choice for a dragon shifter clan, given I should imagine their tendency to burn things.

Cael's father, mother, and his two younger brothers seem pleased to see Alaric again.

 

I get the impression before their rift, these two visited each other a lot and hosted feasts for one another's clans.

 

There's a hint of hope in his father's eyes, actually, first upon seeing me and hearing about why they both chose me, and in the fact that finally, his oldest son will be eligible to produce heirs, and connect again with their sister mountain clan.

 

Leaving this throne room leaves me more subdued than before.

 

But walking into Cael's chambers, in a neat, almost empty cavern, with barely any human furnishings, leaves a strange shiver of fear rippling inside.

 

Both male shifters examine me, then each other.

 

“I can't believe I let you convince me into doing this,” Cael says, his voice a growl, arms folded belligerently.

“I'm glad you did. It's been a while. I've been meaning to talk to you. To explain. But you didn't want to listen.”

 

“You betrayed me,” Cael whispers, his voice harsh, his breath ragged. There's a glimmer of pain in his amber eyes. I'm merely a bystander, watching this drama unfold. How bizarre, to know I've been so forcibly whisked from my life, to plunge straight into the unrelenting drama of another. To consider them as lovers, too?

Somehow, it didn't occur to me that shifters might be inclined to head that direction.

 

Absently, I grope for my phone, before I remember that of course I don't have it. I can't text anyone, I can't take pictures, and I can't call for help.

 

“I didn't mean to. You know my father. He suspected something – he procured that girl for me. He told me – he would never believe that I wasn't perverted unless I went for her and took her. And, well.”

 

“You should have refused.” Cael's eyes are as hard as agates. “You should have known how much it would have hurt.”

 

“I didn't feel I had a choice!” Alaric roars back, hands clenched into fists. I swear I can see smoke billowing from his lips. “I wanted to, I don't know. Fake it in front of my father, but go off with you. Because only you mattered.”

 

Cael smiles a dark smile. “Imagine if I take this woman now?” His gaze flicks to me, and again, the thrill of fear tears inside. My panties grow damp again, and I mentally curse myself for the reaction. “And I'll just make you watch. I won't let you touch her, or me.”

 

Alaric growls aggressively as Cael strides towards me. I'm ready to fight, and I lunge at him with a knee kick. Cael scoffs, and blocks my leap. “Predictable,” he snarls.

I attempt to elbow him, and twist my hips to escape out of his grasp. He stops every movement, his strength easily overpowering me. It's frightening how much power his body contains.

 

“That's not the deal we made,” Alaric snarls. When he starts forward, Cael whips his neck towards the prince.

 

“No! One step closer, and I rip her head off. Then you won't have a princess to share with me, will you? Then you won't have a reason to visit me. Eighteen million is nothing to me.”

 

Oh, God. Cael is insane. Darkness pores out of his skin. He doesn't care about me. He doesn't even care about his former lover.

 

He just wants to make him suffer.

 

Alaric, bound by the threat, especially when Cael grabs my head in a vice grip, freezes absolutely still. Cael gives him a hate-laden stare, before turning his attention back. The ice in his eyes sends fear and a shiver of arousal inside. I'm getting wet, shamefully so, and I can't seem to stop it. He smells the arousal as well, and one eyebrow shoots up.

 

“Well, well. You're a bigger slut than I imagined, red head.”

 

“Bronnen,” I gasp, though I think at this point, he doesn't give a shit if I'm called Sarah or Angelfoot.

 

“You will obey every one of my instructions, or you die.” His muscles flex against my neck, and I feel the frightening power in them, the squeeze of fingers against my throat.

 

“Yes,” I rasp, my heart pounding wildly, body shaking. The damp spot in my panties increases, and I grit my teeth as Cael steps back and tells me to strip off.

 

I do as he asks, fumbling awkwardly with the clothes, taking them off one by one until I'm left shivering in his cavern, everything a puddle under my feet.

 

“Take off my pants,” he orders, occasionally shooting glances at Alaric, who is frozen like a statue, eyes wide, looking as if he's forgotten to breathe.

 

I slowly strip off his pants, and he's wearing nothing else beneath. A long, monstrous erection reveals itself, tipped with moisture. I gawk. He's turned on as well. Whatever his act, whatever the murderous words that slip out of his mouth, it's clear he's getting off on it.

 

He enjoys being dominant. “Stroke it,” he says. “Slow now.”

 

Hesitantly, I stroke his erection, fingers trailing along the thick, dark veins, collecting the pool of moisture from the top and spreading it across. He tells me to taste it, and I do.

 

“Are you a virgin?” He says.

 

I shake my head, trembling.

 

“Pity.”

 

I gasp as he picks me up and throws me onto a table, a bolt of pain lancing through my back. He seizes my thighs and pulls me forward, allowing himself to instantly penetrate my wetness. The pain and pleasure sear through me, and I find myself getting more excited, more heightened by the pain, even as my cheeks burn, and a cry of protest trickles through my mouth.

 

“I know you like this. Look at how your greedy core longs for me. Look how your body is hot for me.” He grunts as he forces himself deeper into me, now using his hands to rock my body, pounding me against his hips as he stabs into me again and again.

 

I can't help it at this point. I let out a moan, both terrified and elated at the same time. Something about hovering on the brink of death, knowing that he could change his mind on a whim, if Alaric reacts too soon, is chaotic to my emotions. I don't know how to react. My mind protests, my body cries for more. My heart is trying to jump out of my chest at this point. The experience elevates me and shocks at the same time. I'm so wet, and I'm already beginning to contract when he leans forward and says, “Don't you dare come! Don't you dare!”

 

I whimper as he continues to thrust in me, then fills me with his hot seed, whilst I struggle to not come from the torturous and sweet feeling at the same time. He then grabs me by my long red hair, so we're face to face.

 

“You want more, don't you?”

 

I shiver, unsure what to say. He jerks my hair roughly back, and I gasp, “Yes!” Though I'm confused, because I want to say no as well. Every now and then my body gives out a little spasm.

 

He finally looks at Alaric. “You. Answer me. Did you enjoy watching that? Did you enjoy watching me fuck someone else rather than you?” Cael's calloused hands reach under my shirt and pinch my nipples, before grabbing each globe roughly, squeezing them vigorously.

 

Alaric bares his teeth, anger suffused in his expression.

 

“Come here,” Cael says imperiously, and Alaric makes his way over, green eyes dark and dilated. “Stay still,” he tells me, though my body aches from his pounding, and I feel no inclination to move far. Cael snarls at Alaric as he notices the bulge in his pants.

 

“You're sicker than I thought.” Cael rips off his pants, allowing Alaric's erection to jut free. It's thick and meaty, and I watch as Cael grabs Alaric's balls and fondles them. Alaric closes his eyes and groans, and something glistens on his tip. “Maybe you two are better suited than I thought.” He runs his hand over Alaric's length, squeezing until the foreskin rolls over, before he pushes Alaric between my legs.

“What?” Alaric stares at my core, smells my lust and Cael's release with a shiver and a twitch of his nostrils.

 

“Fuck her. Do the thing that made me hate you. Fuck her brains out.” Cael snarls this harshly, and bites into Alaric's neck. The blonde groans, as Cael helps push him into me, his erection slick inside. He pants as he begins to thrust in me, with Cael encouraging him to go harder, faster. I feel my orgasm rising again, and My eyes expand in shock as I see Cael rubbing himself into arousal again, before pushing the tip of his length against Alaric's rear. Alaric completely stops grinding as Cael penetrates him from behind, without any apparent lube or preparation.

 

He thrusts roughly inside Alaric until the blonde comes inside me, and the force of Cael's push causes me to quickly tumble into one as well.

 

For a moment, there is silence.

 

Then, Cael peels himself away, pulls up his pants, and stalks off without a word, leaving me and Alaric awkwardly entangled.

 

We dress ourselves up as well, and wait for Cael to come back, but he doesn't.

Alaric stares after him with longing and sadness, and I feel a little pulse of sympathy, out of odds with what's happened to me.

 

I'm a prisoner, but I find myself understand a little of my captors, who describe me as their princess, though I'm little more than a enslaved consort.

 

God, I hope I'm not getting that whole Stockholm Syndrome thing.

 

Whatever the case, I still feel weak and trembling from the efforts inflicted upon me.

Alaric, on the other hand, helps me get up, and we head back to the Red clan on the other mountain.