Peggy
Daisy doesn’t cry.
It’s strange and it makes me feel a little bit uncomfortable. Shouldn’t she be crying? Shouldn’t she be afraid? I would be, if I were a little baby and having to run through the forest with a stranger. She’s perfectly quiet, though, and calm as I move as swiftly as possible through the dense underbrush of the forest.
I’m making mistakes right now and I’m very aware of that.
I’m running in the opposite direction I came from, moving deeper into the forest instead of out of it. After I kicked the man, the dragon shifter, my only focus was on getting as far away as possible.
So now I’m running, racing against time and everything in the world. Now I’m running with the hope that somehow, everything is going to be okay. Only, I don’t know if I actually believe that anymore. I don’t know if that’s actually a real possibility.
I wasn’t supposed to have a baby to take care of this week.
I wasn’t supposed to have kittens, either.
All I was supposed to do was go to work, go home, and paint.
Daisy squeals, suddenly, and I stop, looking around. Did she sense something I didn’t? She’s a dragon shifter, after all. Even if she can’t shift yet, it’s possible that she’s aware of things that I’m not. She makes another little noise, and I look in the direction she is. In the distance, I see a faint light.
Is it possible there are humans around here?
The dragon hasn’t caught up with me yet, but I know I probably won’t have long before he rears his ugly head. No, that’s not true. There was nothing ugly about that damn man. He was everything anyone could ever want in a man, actually, and I’m embarrassed with just how turned I got around him.
My own romantic history has been spotty.
It’s mostly been non-existent, to be honest.
That’s not important, though. What matters is finding out if there’s shelter up ahead. Are there humans? Good humans? What about shifters? The forest is filled with many different types of shifters. It’s possible there’s a good group of them here who might be able to protect Daisy and me.
Maybe they can help us find Fablestone.
I look over my shoulder and take a deep breath.
“This is it,” I whisper. “Let’s go, Daisy.”
The baby giggles quietly as I move, and I silently will her to be quiet. I step lightly, slowing my pace as I near the light. As I get closer, I can see it’s some sort of cottage or cabin here in the woods. There’s a light on inside, which is the brightness I saw while I was running.
So it’s not a clan or a group of people.
It’s just one person or family.
Would they be willing to help me?
Maybe they can tell me where to go to find Fablestone. Apparently, the website I looked at had outdated information. There was no hope at the stone tower. There was no one to guide me safely to Fablestone. There was only a man who wanted to hurt me and I was lucky to escape from him when I did.
I near the cabin. Suddenly, each footstep feels like it echoes loudly. My worn shoes crunch as I step on leaves and twigs.
“Okay, so I’m not the most graceful person,” I mumble.
Daisy starts to fuss in response and even the kittens meow from my backpack, but I keep going. At the very least, this place might have a phone I can use.
“It’s going to be fine,” I tell them, but Daisy is starting to complain and I wonder why she’s suddenly so anxious.
I can see in one of the windows because the shades are pulled back, and as I approach, I realize I need to get a story straight. It’s the middle of the night, after all, and the person who lives here is obviously awake. I don’t think I’ll be bothering them, but still, I can’t exactly say I was just out on a midnight stroll. We’re miles and miles from civilization. It took me two days just to reach the stone tower, after all. I need to make up a lie and I need to make it believable.
I move closer toward the porch and take a deep breath. Just as I’m about to step onto the porch, the front door flies open and a man stands in the doorway. His eyes are wild and he looks angry to have been bothered.
Fuck.
So much for hoping for a good human.
Nope.
This is either a bad guy or a wild shifter.
Either way, this isn’t good.
You should have taken your chances with the dragonman.
“Um, hello,” I say, trying not to be super weird and awkward. “I was camping with some friends and got separated from the group. I was wondering if you happen to have a phone I can use.”
The man doesn’t say anything. He just sneers at me, looking me up and down. He hisses and then he snarls slightly. A little bit of drool drops from his lips.
He’s definitely a shifter.
Not a dragon.
He doesn’t have enough prowess or charisma to be a dragon. From what I’ve seen, dragons are quite charming and delightful when they want to be, but this guy? This guy seems like he’s thirty-seven kinds of evil.
I’d guess he’s a wolf, or maybe even a bear.
“Well, then,” I say, slowly starting to back up. I don’t look behind me. My feet just seem to move of their own accord. “I guess you don’t have a phone, so I’ll just be on my way. Gotta find my friends, you know. You’ve got friends, I’m sure. You know how they worry. Well, I’m very sorry to have bothered you,” I say, stepping back further and further.
A nasty grin spreads across the man’s face.
“Oh, darling,” he growls. “You aren’t going anywhere.”
Before I know what’s happening, he’s behind me, and he has my hands gripped behind my back.
“Please,” I tell him, trying to stay calm. “I don’t want any trouble.” Daisy is still safely in the baby carrier on my front and my cats are in my backpack, but they’re starting to meow loudly and Daisy is crying. “I just want to be on my way.”
“You should have thought up a better lie,” the man whispers in my ear. “I can smell your fear, human. I could smell it from half a mile away. You aren’t with your friends. You’re all alone in the big, bad woods. Aren’t you?”
“No,” I say. I started a lie and I’m going to stick it out. This guy isn’t going to get the best of me. I might be so fucking scared I could wet myself, but I’m going to be brave. I have to be. Daisy, Mocha, and Frappe are all counting on me and I’m not going to let any of them down. Not today. Not ever. “They’re waiting for me,” I tell him. “We were all in a group, but we got separated. They’ll be looking for me,” I say. “They’ll be worried.”
“Liessssss,” the man says, hissing. “You wandered into the wrong wolf’s den,” he says. “And now you’re going to pay the price.”
“Not on my watch, asshole,” the deep voice that comes from behind us is familiar. It’s him. The dragonman from the stone tower. I shouldn’t be relieved, but I am. I am completely, totally relieved.
The wolf is surprised, too, and he loosens his grip enough for me to wiggle away. I stumble to the ground, rolling onto my side so that neither Daisy nor the kittens are hurt, and I look up to see the two men facing off in the clearing. I didn’t even hear Mr. Dragon approach. He must have been following us or hunting us. I don’t know. Still, I can’t say I’m not a little relieved to have him here.
“Come to save your pretty little princess?” The wolf-shifter says, cocking his head to the side. He spits at the dragon. “I’d like to see you try,” he taunts, and I cringe. He has no idea that the man who came to my rescue is a dragon. He has no idea what’s about to happen.
Then I realize that I don’t, either.
I’ve heard of dragons, but only in legend. I’ve never actually seen someone shift before. I’ve never watched them change from human to beast, so I don’t know what it looks like. Does it hurt? Is it loud?
I don’t know.
I shift to my bottom and scoot back until I hit the cabin. Then I don’t move. Perhaps I should, but something tells me it’s simply not worth it. I escaped from the dragon once. If I make him hunt me again, he’s not going to be happy.
“Leave,” the dragon says. “And no harm will come to you. Let us go quietly.” His eyes dart to me almost imperceptibly, like he’s quietly checking on us to make sure we’re okay.
Fuck.
I fucking wish I was telepathic.
I’m okay! I want to shout. We’re going to be just fine, thanks to you.
I don’t, though.
I just sit there, silently.
Watching.
Waiting.
Praying.
The wolf doesn’t say anything. He just stares at the dragon. They’re both still in their male forms, still looking at one another like they’re starving, like they’re itching for a brutal fight. The dragon looks calm, though. I get the feeling that this is the type of man who is always in control. He’s always in charge.
And he always gets his way.
“Let us be on our way,” he repeats, but the wolf yells in response.
“Never! The human is mine!” He spits toward the dragon, and I see the man standing up straighter. He seems to grow taller. He practically towers over the wolf, and I wonder if the wolf shifter is on some sort of drug. He’s being crazy and wildly brave in a situation where neither one of those is good qualities to have.
Is he just stupid?
Maybe he’s feral from living on his own for too long.
The dragon doesn’t seem to want to fight. Isn’t that curious? When he had me trapped, he couldn’t seem to wait to attack me.
He didn’t, though. Did he?
Maybe he was just trying to scare me.
I push the thought away because the idea of me hurting an innocent shifter doesn’t sit well with me. I hurt him because I had to escape with Daisy. I had to get her and the kittens to safety, but now I think I’m finally starting to realize that there is no safety. Not anymore. Not in the forest.
“She is not yours,” the dragon says calmly. “Humans are not pets to be owned by another,” he tells the shifter, and my eyes dart up to his. He’s speaking to the wolf, but he’s looking at me, and the words sink into my heart and sit there, settling.
Humans are not pets.
What kind of life has this dragon lived that those are the words he’s chosen to share with the wolf?
“She is mine,” the wolf says again, and then he shifts.
I’ve never seen anything like it before. One second, he’s a man. The next second, he’s an animal. He doesn’t seem to be in any pain from the shift, which is interesting. I suppose I thought it must hurt because it’s such a huge change, but that doesn’t seem to be the case. If anything, the shift seems to give him more energy because he no longer moves slowly and carefully.
Now he darts back and forth, as if he’s gearing up for a fight.
Something tells me he’s about to get one.
“I don’t want to fight you,” the dragon says. “It doesn’t have to be this way.”
I stare at the dragon. Is he serious right now? He doesn’t want to fight? How interesting. I suppose I thought all shifters would be excited for the opportunity to show off their strength and size. Their skills.
Aren’t they all killing machines?
This one is different, though.
This one is something else entirely.
The wolf has a chance to leave. He has a chance to back off.
Just leave.
I know that if the wolf doesn’t go away, if he doesn’t back down, there’s going to be bloodshed, and it’s going to be his. One little wolf doesn’t stand a chance against a big, scary dragon.
It certainly doesn’t have a chance against a Fablestone dragon.
“This is your chance to back off, buddy.” The dragon gives him one more opportunity to leave.
The wolf doesn’t take it.
Instead, he leaps at the dragon man, but the dragon is much too quick. He, too, jumps into the air, and when he lands, he’s in his full dragon form.
The man is gone.
The monster has come.
*
When I was a little girl, my mother used to tell me fairytales. She’d tell me stories about knights in shining armor, princesses in far-away castles, and the dragons who threatened to destroy them all.
What she didn’t tell me was that sometimes, the dragons can be good.
She didn’t tell me that sometimes, the dragons are the heroes.
Today, my dragon is the hero.
He’s big: big and beautiful. I suppose I never thought a dragon could be pretty, but this one? Well, he’s got “pretty” down pat. He’s nearly as big as the cabin. I’m not sure if that’s large or small for a dragon, but he definitely towers over both me and the wolf. His scales are shiny and despite the dark hour of the night, I can see things reflected off them.
It’s the perfect camouflage.
Somehow, I can’t quite bring myself to breathe.
I don’t want to breathe and ruin this moment because right now, time feels like it’s standing still.
The wolf leaps at the dragon. He growls and jumps into the air, obviously aiming for the dragon’s heart. The dragon moves, though, and the wolf hits his arm. I see blood slowly seeping from the dragon and I realize the wolf hit him in a weak spot. Somehow, he managed to slice his arm.
A sound comes deep from the dragon’s throat. It’s a feral noise, a pained noise, and it’s one I don’t think I’ll ever forget. When I hear this sound, my heart stops beating, just for a minute, and I begin to cry.
I can’t lose him.
I’m not sure why this is the thought that fills my head.
I have no connection to this monster, no attachment to this creature, yet somehow, the idea of him dying fills my heart with sadness and my body with physical pain.
The idea of him dying hurts.
But I don’t have to worry.
The dragon pushes the wolf away with his arm and growls. A hint of flame comes from his mouth, but it doesn’t seem to scare the wolf. The dragon isn’t being very aggressive in this fight. He’s mostly playing defense, I realize, and I wonder why that is.
Maybe he doesn’t want to fight.
Maybe he wishes this would all just end.
When the wolf attacks again, the dragon hits him with his arm, and the wolf falls to the ground. He seems to have the wind knocked out of him because he lies on his back as the dragon moves over to him. Then the dragon closes his eyes for a moment. He takes a deep breath, and then he opens his eyes again. The dragon reaches out and he uses one very long, very sharp talon to slice the wolf’s throat.
Then he is no more.
The wolf is dead, but the dragon is injured.
There are no winners here.