Page 117 of Her Tortured Beasts

He snorts in annoyance before lumbering away to a pile of gold coins in the corner.

It’s pitch black at night in the cavern where we are. That evening, when he finally settles down next to me and places his wing in its usual position, I wait until his breaths turn deep and slow.

Sliding away, I let the edge of his wing thump onto the blanket and venture out of the nest. This is my first time looking around at this location. I sense we are high above, in mountains where the air is a little bit thinner, encapsulated and isolated in mountainous rock.

And within this rock are piles and piles of treasure.

Stacked high on gilded tables, on the rocky floor, on antique chairs are things that smell of gold and jewels. In one corner, gold bars are stacked as high as a human male, and in another corner, antique paintings that must be worth millions. One corner glints with a silver engine, and upon further inspection, I find a row of motorcycles.

With a distant shock, I realise this is a dragon’s treasure horde.

Exploring further into the maze of shining trinkets, I taste the air and sense the direction it blows. The cavern is huge, big enough that I become weary travelling to the other side. Finally, fresh, cool night air brushes my face.

I surge forward until a gaping maw opens up into the night. The cavern entrance is circular and easily three stories tall, big enough to fit a dragon, and just as wide. Lifting my gaze, I finally get to see just how high up we are.

A sky of stars shines above us, the full moon bright. Before me, a mountainous expanse stretches out, peaks and valleys covered with dark foliage. There is no snow as we’re headed towards the end of summer, but the mountain air is still cool on my scales.

A soft, draconian snort sounds.

My entire body whips around as Xander, quiet as a predator even as a dragon, has come up behind me.

I let out a breath before looking out over the misty land. But my human eyes would reveal a little more colour…

Swallowing the lump of fear in my throat, I concentrate on my body and feel myself elongate. Scales disappear and make way for human skin. My hood disappears into my head, making way for human hair to come through. And limbs. Four limbs grow from my body. I flex my fingers as they appear, but as for my feet?—

Pain burns through the length of my right thigh and I immediately raise my foot, shifting my weight onto my healthy left one.

I feel different. I cannot be the same person I was before. This Aurelia feels like glass. As if all it will take is one decision and I will shatter. They have not broken me. That, is a privilege only I am allowed.

Holding my breath, I look down at my newly grown leg. It is, thankfully, whole, if a bit pale compared to my other, but anatomically identical. The only difference is the pain. I gingerly set the foot flat, testing the feel of it. Bone deep pain shoots like lightning from my heel to thigh and I hiss in agony.

The dragon growls with worry.

I look over my shoulder at Xander, looming over me, his dragon’s head swooping low to peer at my face, golden glowing eyes flickering just slightly with some emotion.

“It hurts,” I mutter. “Obviously.”

I don’t know how to reconcile the dragon I felt in my head with this dragon. With this Xander who looks uncertain.

He makes a rumbling sound that turns up at the end like a question.

Frowning at him, I ask, “Are you in a treasure haze again?”

He blinks, those glowing eyes disappearing just for a second before they reappear, lowering his head even closer. He’s showing me his eyes are clear.

Silence stretches between us as we stare at one another. Does he hide in this form, as I did just before? Is the human side too painful? Too…distasteful?

I hope he doesn’t shift back.

He suddenly leans down, draconian nostrils flaring as he sniffs me. Without another word, he turns around and shuffles away into the cavern.

After a moment, I follow at a snail’s pace, limping so I don’t place too much weight on my right leg. Each step makes pain shoot through the length of the limb and I grimace, irritated at myself. How many days had I spent healing?

The dragon ahead of me turns around and takes a step towards me before indicating my leg with his snout and then making a strange, polyphonic sound from his chest. It’s high and low at the same.

Is he…whining?

“It’s fine. I can do it,” I say through gritted teeth.

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