Chapter Four
Clad in an iridescent yellow dress, Xanthia watched from the living room as Mokkan introduced three people into his home. The cauldron hissed in the kitchen, minutes away from completing its set menu, and Xanthia gasped when she saw Ruelle as part of the crowd.
“Ah, good to see you! Good to see you! Oh, Gallius, don’t you have your princess with you?”
The blond-haired shifter shook his head, dark eyes crinkled in amusement. “No. I’m afraid I haven’t house-broken her enough yet to justify bringing her along. She might disrupt the dinner.”
“Ah, shame. She’s a new one, yes?” Mokkan led the dragon through, and Xanthia didn’t take her eyes off her sister, a myriad of feelings bursting inside. Elation. Appreciation for Mokkan. Relief Ruelle was okay. Puzzlement Ruelle was still with a dragon. Ruelle spotted her sister and started waving frantically, grinning like a loon.
“Yes. I stole her from a careless Quester. She was by far the noisiest I’ve ever dealt with, so I hired a voice stealer to take her voice. Called Vanessa, I believe. One of them central kingdom types.”
Xanthia started laughing, making everyone turn to her in confusion.
“Vanessa… I believe she used to be one I owned. Before I was defeated.”
“Oh!” Gallius appeared embarrassed. “I didn’t know that!”
“No worries. I’m better off without. Believe me,” Mokkan said, grinning. Gallius nodded in apparent relief, and Ruelle trotted over to her older sister, short blonde hair bouncing with her stride.
“Hey, Xanthia. I’m glad you’re okay.” Ruelle awkwardly stepped forward for a hug, and Xanthia accepted it with warmth.
“Hey. Ruelle. I’m so sorry for how I’ve treated you in the past. You didn’t deserve it. About calling you a freak and whatever.”
“Hey! Calm down. Don’t get the confession roses yet,” Ruelle replied, smirking in that irritating way. “How come you haven’t been rescued yet?”
“Gallius’ princess persuaded the Questers that I was already free, after they locked me in a closet. I got freed by intelligent mice, so it’s okay. But I’m probably not going to be on the Quest menu for a while.”
“Oh.” Ruelle sniggered, holding a hand over her mouth, as Xanthia heard Mokkan address the other dragon as Kerric.
“What about you, then?” Xanthia asked, now holding her arm out for her younger sister. It felt good to see a familiar face, and it filled Xanthia with happiness.
“Oh. Um. I had a curse – another one placed on me that I couldn’t leave my dragon, or I’d die. I had to fight my Questers or persuade them to go away.”
“Oh, wow,” Xanthia said, eyes wide.
“It’s okay. I got over it. And Kerric’s such a sweetheart.”
Sweetheart?
Seated around the table as Mokkan brought over the food, Xanthia noted Ruelle’s subtle interactions with Kerric, the nudges under the table, the hand touches, the general flirting that convinced her that those two were a little more than just dragon and princess.
The mystery meat food with vegetables tasted delicious, and the behaviour of Ruelle and Kerric made Xanthia’s mind float back to that incident on the sofa. The lingering stares. The wrought desire, barely contained in their eyes. Mokkan taking that black and white suit off so Xanthia could see the tightly packed muscles and feel them glide over her.
The desire whipped itself up until Xanthia felt as if she couldn’t stand it. It took everything in her willpower to smile and act normal, while her feverish mind kept sifting through various scenarios of getting Mokkan to strip, and getting him to take her virginity, usually reserved for marriage to a prince.
For all she knew, Mokkan might be a prince in his own right.
And what he did here, to find Ruelle and bring her over without telling Xanthia – what a wonderful surprise. It made her smile.
Mostly, the dragons talked about the Wilderness, about other clans and notable raids along the kingdoms. Ruelle and Xanthia were in the same boat when it came to knowledge of their kingdom, and when Xanthia regaled her tale under the hands of Vanessa and her cronies, Ruelle just sat there shaking her head, before laughing when understanding the same princess got caught again.
“Seriously, she deserves to never be rescued. Locking you in a closet? What is wrong with her to do that?”
“I know, right?” Xanthia nodded vigorously, a mix of guilt and happiness swimming in her from how, well… not freakish Ruelle was.
I was a Vanessa to her. But she’s not taking it to heart. She’s… a better person than me.
“We should come around more often,” Kerric said, rubbing his hands. “You have a wonderful place here. It’s so professional.”
“Thank you,” Mokkan said, beaming with pride. “Xanthia and I worked on it together, when the Questers trashed it. She turned her tower into something like an inn.”
“Ready for all the parties you’ll be hosting in the future,” Xanthia said with a wink.
Gallius slapped Mokkan’s back, impressed. “You got yourself a keeper, here! I wish all the princesses I’ve had before were like these two. You’re sisters, right? Maybe you had a good family?”
“You could say that,” Ruelle murmured. “As far as dysfunctional royal families go, anyway.”
“I was a total bitch to her,” Xanthia admitted. “I used to call her a freak. But now, well, I’m a freak too. I can’t hold that to her anymore.”
Ruelle held her hand for a moment, a little teary-eyed.
“Well, we better get going,” Kerric announced. “But I’d love to come around again.”
“I have a game we can play, too,” Gallius said. “But you know how it is, trying to get enough people to sit around the table and play…”
With a last hug from Ruelle, the guests left, with promises to come over again. Xanthia assured Gallius he never needed to bring Vanessa over. Ever.
Alone at last, with nothing to inhibit her thoughts, Xanthia stalked right over to Mokkan, seized him by the hand, and dragged him to his bedroom. His expression turned from surprise to understanding rapidly, and when she slammed the bedroom door and draped her arms about his waist, he leaned forward to kiss her. It was at first soft, before intensifying, pressing his lips hard onto hers, tongue flicking, seeking hers.
Cheeks burning, Xanthia moaned as the heat swarmed through her, coiling in fiery passion in her stomach. It flared so strongly that she thought she might boil to cinders with nothing remaining of her emotions but ashes. It didn’t take long for her to peel off his clothes and for him to do the same, and they tottered into the bedsheets, rolling and grasping at each other in hunger.
Her life back in the kingdoms felt so far away, so insignificant, in light of the things they’d achieved together. In a way, she had Vanessa’s spitefulness to thank, as the Questers might have taken her back home and she’d never have heard from Mokkan again. Perhaps, without her filling his mouth with the health potion, he might have died.
Even then, seeing him lying there, would I have protested? Would I have asked to stay behind?
She didn’t know, but it didn’t matter. Chance or not, right now, she knew that this was the place she wanted to be. Surrounded by mice that liked to obey her every order. Living in a home decorated by the fruits of her and Mokkan’s labor. Lying in bed as his bare chest rubbed against hers, and his lips pressed against her neck as he kissed, licked, and sucked, stirring her emotions into a frenzy.
Her eyes rolled to the back of her head as he began slow, sinuous movements on top of her, his erection straining against his underwear, which she insisted he take off.
She shivered, nervous, having never experienced this before, except in dreams, though she always imagined princes. Not a stunning dragon in human form, devouring her with his green eyes, whispering how beautiful she was in her ear as he eased out of his boxers.
He didn’t do what she expected, though. He did other things first, such as stroke her arms, bite at her bottom lip, and massage her breasts with one strong hand, making her gasp as her nipples pebbled under his touch.
Would it hurt? Would it feel nice? Did she have that… whatever they called it, or did it break during horse riding? The servants said that could happen. When she had asked Ruelle once about it, her sister had merely smiled and wiggled her fingers.
I hope it doesn’t hurt. She wanted everything with Mokkan to be magical, like the transformation of the place, and his dedicated devotion to her, his constant gratitude that she stuck around when she had the choice to leave. Surely, Questers would come, soon.
Maybe I will be like Ruelle, and fight them off as they come. Because I actually like being a dragon’s princess. I like meeting trolls and witches and rescuing cats and having talking mice scurrying around the place. I like that I can take part in table discussions and talk about whatever I feel like, and not what I’m supposed to talk about. That’s something I never realized was such an issue before.
Mokkan nibbled at her ear and whispered, “Tell me if it hurts, princess, and I’ll stop. I want you to be happy.”
A heat wave of delight coursed through her, and she clutched his shoulder blades tight, burying her face into his neck to hide the emotion blooming on her cheeks. “I will,” she breathed back, and he nodded, before lightly pressing his erection against her stomach. He moved a little down her body and positioned his manhood at her dripping entrance, which was both hot and cold at the same time, yearning for him.
Once upon a time, she might have been disgusted by her body’s reaction, how unclean and messy it was, but right now, she didn’t care, and let out a groan as he slid inside her, slowly, tenderly, always keeping his eyes locked on hers to gauge her reaction.
It didn’t hurt, but it was an odd sensation, having something resting inside her. Wasn’t something else supposed to happen, too?
This didn’t feel exciting. This didn’t – oh, she thought, when he started moving, his length rubbing against her inner walls, generating a pleasant friction. Her head slammed the pillow, her mouth popped open in a moan, and her arms stiffened from pleasure.
A coiling tension in her stomach increased with his motions, upon watching him move that glorious body of his, upon having those eyes lock onto her soul and empty out all the feelings there. She cried out as the tension grew, spreading into her thighs and stiffening the muscles there, curling upward into her lungs and making her forget how to breathe.
The orgasm released itself like a breaking dam, and her brain lit up, consumed by pleasure, along with her shuddering body. He groaned at her reaction, coming as well with a few quick thrusts, and they collapsed side by side, both grinning, both slightly dazed.
“Well,” Xanthia said. “That was okay.”
“Only okay?” Mokkan appeared injured by this.
“I’m joking. It was amazing.” She tapped him lightly on the shoulder, before letting out a squeal and hugging him tight.
He smiled and held her to his chest, his arms wrapped around her, one palm stroking her hair. “You’re definitely staying?”
She nuzzled her nose against him. “I’m definitely staying,” she said.
Blast all those Questers. She’d help Mokkan fight them if needed. And blast those princesses. She hoped all of them got captured again, like Vanessa, who likely sat in a small tower right now, bawling her pretty eyes out.
I can get Ruelle to teach me how to fight. I’m sure she’ll help.
Determined, Xanthia closed her eyes and held him tighter. Not wanting to release him.
Not wanting to let go of her new life.
The End
Captured by Durza
Dragons Take a Princess
(Book 5)
Chapter One
Jackie enjoyed her taste of freedom for precisely four days. Former captive of the dread dragon, Mokkan, with his defeat she clung to her knights in shining armor. At last, she could return to the Fera kingdom. Fera’s sole claim to fame existed in the fact that it was a walkway between the territories of Sondheim and Arul. Sondheim owned the most territory in the central kingdoms. Arul owned the largest military.
It created moments of high tension for Feralens, given that their land was mostly flat and easy to walk through – the perfect location for invasion. They received bribes from both sides, operated a system of spies and tentative third-party trading – and quietly prepared underground bunkers for when the inevitable war broke out.
Growing up, Jackie enjoyed the issues in their politics, and being well-informed. She also liked being a princess and all the perks that came with it. She didn’t enjoy, however, being kidnapped at a charity benefit by members of the Dark Clan, sold to a dragon, and then being kept as a prisoner for two years. Somehow, that blasted dragon managed to survive all attempts to slay him, and she had to live in a hierarchy of dumb princesses who couldn’t tell their left foot from their right.
Rescued at last, she happily tagged along with her Questers on their victorious return journey – only to find that they didn’t have a proper navigational device to get them through the Swamp of Illusions.
“You realize,” she said, her voice a growl, “that without a navigational device, we’ll probably all die.”
They scoffed at her assumption.
“It’s okay. We’re well-equipped. It takes far longer to go back through the Wayward Forest,” Reginald the White Knight stated, indicating his band of five travellers. A healer, a mage, a ranger, and a monk made up the team. One more princess travelled with them as well, a loud and brainless one called Andrea, whom Jackie wanted to gag at times.
“Better safe than sorry. You underestimate the magic of this place, and it will be your demise.”
“Oh, don’t be such a gloomypants,” Andrea chided Jackie. “We’re with Questers. They beat a dragon. We’ll be fine.”
Jackie ground her teeth but said nothing, knowing her words wouldn’t punch through all that fluff in Andrea’s idiotic brain.
Also, she wasn’t a gloomypants. What she stated was fact and common sense. The kind of common sense that ensured you didn’t take anything for granted. Their confidence will undo them. Fools. “Is this your final decision on the matter? You’ll go through the Swamp of Illusions without any means of being able to penetrate the illusions the swamp is named for?”
“I can do it,” Horace the mage said, twirling his blue robes and tilting his staff impressively. “I dabbled with some pathfinding spells back in the day.”
He waved his staff, then frowned. “Odd. I can’t seem to be able to cast it.”
Jackie folded her arms, tapping one foot on the squishy ground. The smell of the swamp permeated her muscles, sending an unpleasant, oozing sensation creeping through her lungs, tarring her throat.
“We’ll be fine,” Reginald insisted. “The shortcut will only take us two days, as opposed to three weeks through the Wayward Forest. Even if we’re a few days off, we’re still doing better time.”
These people. Are idiots. Jackie took a deep, irritated breath, trying not to explode in anger, her hands clenching into fists. Why the fuck did I have to end up with these incompetent fools? What are they teaching in Quester classes nowadays? Basics on how to fail? Advanced stupidity?
She quelled her anger with an unpleasant hiss of air. I can’t go alone. That’s the annoying thing about this. I have to stick with these fools.
“I’m putting it out there. You guys are far better off spending three weeks in a forest, than the rest of your lives dead.”
“Oh, don’t be such a downer,” Horace said. “I understand you’ve been grumpy from being locked up so long. How old are you, anyway? Twenty-six? Seven?”
“Does it matter?” She was twenty-seven, not that she intended to admit it to Horace Dumbface in a million years.
“Well. If you want someone to marry you when you get home, you should pull that frown off your face. You’re clearly getting past prime age.”
The insult jabbed at her and her eyes narrowed further. Getting past prime age? How dare they? She received enough rudeness from the princesses in their clusterfuck hierarchy. She felt much less inclined to help them now.
“Either I wear this frown, or I decorate your face with my fist. So you can fuck off. This is suicidal, plain and simple. Do none of you read? Do any of you even comprehend how dangerous the Wilderness is, or are you treating it like some kind of camping trip? I didn’t get myself captured and locked up in a tower for two years without learning something about this place.”
Admittedly, her knowledge came from either conversations Mokkan had with his guests, or where the princesses happened to be in the Wilderness before they ended up in the same tower. She didn’t exactly overhear anything important, only snippets of conversation jumbled up in her mind over the years, and the reverence the monsters had for their homeland, which could easily swallow them up if they forgot just how dangerous the world was.
“Look, we didn’t come all this way to rescue a bitch, so you’ll stay with us, or you can go by yourself through the forest. If you’re so determined.”
That ended the conversation, but not Jackie’s undercurrent of irritation. Surrounded by deaf ears and the sinking knowledge of being unable to survive on her own, Jackie had no choice but to go along with them, and hope, somehow, that they pulled off a miracle. Only so many times could she talk to someone until realizing that every single word fell on unchanging minds and dangerously proud hearts.
Who would listen to a silly, airhead princess anyway, who didn’t know what she was talking about, who spent her entire life being served and living a life of luxury and dreams? Those were the thoughts that ticked in their minds.
None of them knew her fingers had flicked through many books and stained themselves with ink and knowledge, saturating her brain with new ideas and concepts that she knew on an instinctive level, but not how to express and convert into tangible thought. She knew, for example, that in a dragon’s cave, she was relatively safe, as they were bound by moral codes, obliged to treat their princess well and give them basic care – whereas other monsters did not operate by the same obligations, having different societies and functions.
She also knew, even before her subsequent capture, that around ninety percent of dragons shapeshifted into humans. The true traditionalists never learned, preferring to always stay in their “noble and elegant” forms.
The group wandered through the Swamp of Illusions, using the mountain peak as a guide, weary boots slapping into the grass and mud and spongy soil. Their progress came slowly, and gradually all conversation died out in place of the persistent need to push on. Horace sometimes hummed to himself, reminiscing about their defeat of Mokkan as a good, golden day, a day to be remembered by the grandchildren he planned to have. (Though he planned to omit the number of Questers involved in their victory.)
Over the hours, through rests and snacks and emptying their bladders, Jackie noticed the mountain never seemed to change perspective or size. It was always the same clouds, the same trees, and the same eagle circling in the distance. She didn’t say anything, but now started thinking through her options, and what she needed to do when everyone here died. Always best to be prepared for anything. Just like her mother and father used to say, and her survivalist older brother, who loved risking his life by camping in the wilder parts of their kingdom, either on mountain ledges or spying on military encampments and wealthy merchants in the kingdoms on either side of them.
“You may be a princess, living the life most people can only dream of,” brother Jacob had said, prodding her on the nose, his mouth wide in a Jacob smile, “but you also live in a dangerous kingdom. Tomorrow or in ten years, we might be invaded or poisoned in our homes. If you don’t learn anything, you may as well sit there and allow the world to kill you.”
Thanks, Jacob. His advice helped her keep her sanity when she was deprived of books in Mokkan’s residence, and encouraged her to write books of her own. Unfortunately, she never learned the same survivalist skills as him – something she now deeply regretted.
Two days later, no one wanted to admit that they were lost. The scenery remained exactly the same, and the path they kept walking upon somehow always made them pass the same flowers, chunks of grass, and fallen oak tree.
“Huh. Odd,” Horace said. “We’re not making any progress at all. Maybe we should try a different direction.”
Just keep knocking your head against that same wall. Jackie rolled her eyes, munching on an apple and chewing right into the core. They shifted direction, with Andrea whining in the background about how her feet were sore and she needed a bath. Oblivious to the fact that everyone else was in the same situation as her, likely feeling the same as her, her voice took on a nasal pitch as her distress increased. Tempers shortened and the band of five began sniping at one another, disgruntled, tired, thirsty, and frustrated at their lack of progress and the merciless environment that crushed them slowly with illusory fingers.
Jackie’s scrub dress became torn and her feet erupted in blisters every few hours. Despite the healer’s efforts in mending the discomfort, the poor mage couldn’t deal with physical exhaustion.
When the ranger equipped his Leaf Wings and took off to get a better vantage point of where they were, he never returned.
“Eh, he probably just wanted to take off with the loot,” Horace reasoned.
“Yes,” Jackie said, her voice tight with disbelief at his blatant refusal to admit the obvious, or his terrible decision. Even to the point of explaining away missing members of his team.
Next to go was Reginald. When they slept around a fire with Reginald on watch duty, they woke up a few hours later, and the knight had vanished.
“He’s probably chasing a swamp Quest. He’ll be back.”
Third was the healer, who spotted a frog, and, thinking it might be Reginald, picked it up and kissed it. A few moments later, the healer bloated up and lifted off the ground like a balloon, drifting into the sky, unable to move or squeak as Horace and Koras the monk tried to rescue him.
“Still think he floated off because he just wanted to see the sky?” Jackie said, giving her disapproving I told you fucking so face to the rather glum mage.
“Hmph,” the mage said, his tone distant, not wanting to engage or provoke debate on the matter.
“You can admit you made a terrible mistake,” Jackie offered, “though I don’t think we can backtrack anymore.”
“Just shut up. I’m tired of hearing you speak,” Horace said, redirecting his guilt into anger. Still unable to comprehend his own stupidity. Jackie sighed.
One hour later, they walked across a seemingly innocuous patch of ground, clear and green, with butterflies fluttering around flowers. However, the second they had all reached the middle, the ground began swallowing them up, letting out disgusting belching noises and the strong smell of manure. Jackie instantly grabbed onto an overhanging branch and Horace blasted the ground beneath him with flames, accidentally setting his monk friend on fire.
“We have to get out of this!” Horace yelled, as Andrea screamed, flailing uselessly until Jackie grabbed her hand, helping to haul her to the same branch. Koras sunk beneath the treacherous bog, and Horace continued screaming until the mud slurped over his mouth, nose, and eyes. He vanished into the ground with a plop.
Andrea continued screaming hysterically until Jackie snapped, “If you don’t shut up I’m going to shove you off this branch and you can drown with the rest of them.”
Andrea’s wailing turned into sniffles, the tears drenching her face, and she glared at Jackie. “I never liked you back at the tower. You never did anything with us.”
“Andrea, I don’t care.” Jackie was already looking around, trying to determine how far it was to the bank of relative safety, before conceding that there was nothing they could do except wait and slowly starve to death – and hope some monster came along with a kind bone in its body. Or competent Questers with actual navigational devices to punch through the Swamp of Illusions, and maybe a danger sense item, so they didn’t walk into snake pits or spike traps every five seconds.
A frog watched them balefully from the safe side of the bank, and ribbited ominously.
“Why are you such a bitch?” Andrea asked, now swallowing her tears and gasping as she resisted the desire to cry and cry.
“Why are you?” Jackie countered, though she didn’t listen for the response. She had no time for this. They were stuck on a tree, mud coating their bottom halves, with solid ground too far on either side. They had no trinkets, no knowledge of spells, and they’d probably die of thirst in three days.
She closed her eyes, drowning out Andrea’s voice as she rested herself more comfortably on the fork of the branch, the leaves tickling either side, and reflected on her life. Her achievements. The prince she believed she was going to marry, maybe still waiting for her, or maybe shunted off to another princess when she vanished. She tried recalling her initial attraction, but nothing came. Just a sense of hollow, of the passing of time and the accumulation of experiences in the Wilderness and in the tower.
She didn’t need to save Andrea, honestly, but the princess was just woefully ignorant. Like a child. Unable to think for herself. She needed someone to bail her out, like a true princess.
Understandable, but still annoying. Jackie didn’t know how long they remained here in this impossible situation, but she must have drifted off to sleep at some point, because when she focused again, it was near evening, near the darkness, and the clouds above obscured the sky, meaning that they’d have little to no light to warm them up tonight. Plunging them into darkness, without the comfort of light to protect them from their imaginations.
Andrea let out whimpers, clearly distressed, but thankfully, she had the good sense otherwise to stay quiet, though Jackie needed to explicitly state to her why. You want to be eaten by any passing predator that might be able to reach us? Go ahead. Make a sound.
The bog beneath them, once it hit dusk, began glowing with an eerie blue light. Sparks seemed to wriggle along it, providing them a small measure of visibility, though Andrea shuddered because she thought the lights belonged to little bugs. Jackie couldn’t see from their height, but the blue glow never left the surface of the bog.
Presently, in the encroaching darkness, a flickering spot of light appeared in the near distance. The light bobbed, as if carried by something, waving in the familiar quality of a torch with the shadow of the bearer casting itself across trees and bushes, along with other signs of movement. A group of people. Or monsters. Andrea grew desperately prayerful, hoping help had finally arrived, but Jackie kept her hope dimmed, wanting to assess the threat first.
The light bobbed close enough to reveal a man and two women. The man held the torch, his face draped in shadows, and though he didn’t look particularly well-geared, along with one of the women, the third member of their group came well-equipped with gear and enchantment, a navigational artifact glowing green from the chain hung around her neck.
The other woman had some kind of bottle, and she crouched by the side of the bog, scooping up the blue iridescence. Andrea let out a yelp as she slipped, leaning too close to the edge of her branch, and the male exclaimed, “Who’s there?” He cast his light around until he saw the two princesses in the branch. “Wait… are you humans?”
The well-geared woman nodded, answering for them. “Yes. They’re princesses. I can smell the entitlement from here.” The comment made Jackie snigger, and the male squinted at her. In the dim light, he appeared attractive, but Jackie kept her guard up as he turned to the others. “Well, I suppose we’d better rescue them then. How does that work out? Do we own them or are we their saviours?”
“Both,” the well-dressed woman replied, her black armor clanking. “You and Elzara can own one each. There’s nothing that says Quest Givers can’t own princesses.”
“Good to know. Right, let’s save our princesses.”
“Can I ask who you are?” Jackie called. Since she was going to be saved by them, willingly or not, she wanted to know whether they were monsters or not.
“I’m Durza. Dragon of High Mountain. This is my sister, Elzara, also dragon of High Mountain. And this is Morgana, the witch of High Mountain.”
Jackie processed the information. “I’ve never even seen a female dragon before.”
Elzara grinned at her, standing tall and proud. “There are not many of us. But we like owning our princesses, too.”
“Oh.” Jackie hesitated again. “Quest Givers?”
“Let’s just save the chit-chat for later,” Morgana growled. “And get you idiots out of here.”
“Alright. Though I’m going to point out that out of the seven people of this former group, I’m the one who tried to stop everyone else killing themselves. They went into the Swamp of Illusions without a navigational device.”
Elzara gasped at this. “That’s insane!”
“I know. But they didn’t want to listen, because I’m just a silly princess.”
Durza examined her for a moment. “Silly princess, huh? You’ll do.” He then snapped at Elzara, “She’ll be mine, Elzara. Back off.”
“Aw… I like her, too.” Elzara glared at her brother, hands on hips. Elzara did the rescue, shifting into a small dragon with glimmering blue scales, swooping above them and letting both princesses climb onto her talons. Morgana, nonplussed, continued collecting the blue glowing things with Elzara’s bottle, and Elzara encouraged the princesses to clamber onto her back once they reached stable ground.
“I was supposed to be saved,” Andrea wailed, now resorting to bawling her eyes out again. “I finally got released from my dragon captive, and now I’m captured again!”
“Goodness, you’re a grateful one, aren’t you,” Morgana said, stoppering the bottle and tucking it into her robes. “Right, you two, follow behind. We can start flying once we reach the Blue Rock.”
Morgana walked next to Durza, his strong, solid back exposed. Jackie clung onto Elzara’s delicate spikes. Nestled in the crook of the dragon’s neck, she found that riding a dragon was not that dissimilar to riding a horse, and she settled into the rhythm quickly.
I suppose this was to be expected, really. Of course I’d get recaptured, and probably spend another two years or so in captivity. Still, at least I’ll have somewhere okay to sleep and eat in again. As long as I’m not holed up with fourteen other princesses, I’ll be fine.
She hoped.