Page 55 of Claimed by the Savage Dragons
She nods, straightening, gathering her courage around her like a shield.
Fuck, she’s braver than half the younglings.
My dragon agrees.
We leave the room with her between us, Mari covered in furs, and Tor and I nude. We go through the dam structure and up to the top where the old helipad is. The wind is whipping over the wall when we get out there. My body starts to feel it quickly so it must be colder than hell.
Tor helps Mari into the center of a wooden pallet encased in a thick layer of fur.
‘There’s hot chocolate in the thermos,’ he says, ‘and food in the pack. If you need us to stop,’ he looks at me hard and smirks. ‘Just think it and Brax will know.’
She stares at me with wide eyes and then nods, getting onto the raft-like structure and sitting down. She buckles herself into the safety belt in the center.
Tor transforms immediately and grabs the bundle that Mari is inside. His powerful wings flap and he rises, battling the strong winds as he takes off.
I let out a steadying breath and take a running jump off the side of the dam, morphing in midair and swooping low over the reservoir where my female almost met her end.
She was right. It feels like forever ago. So much has altered for us all in so little time.
Now, we just have to make sure that these changes don’t bite us in the ass.
Chapter Six
MARI
The hours go by too quickly. I don’t eat or drink what Tor thoughtfully packed for me because my stomach is in knots and I’m afraid that if I do, I’ll throw up all over my fuzzy little transport platform.
Despite the fact that I feel like I’m going to my death, flying is a lot more comfortable like this. Although the pallet swings around in the wind, the makeshift seatbelt keeps me anchored so I don’t get flung around too much.
I’m tempted to tell them to stop several times but it’s just delaying the inevitable. There’s no staying in the odd little bubble we had at the dam, and there’s no escape, no going back to the way my life was before. I spend the hours as the pallet swings trying to resign myself to my new reality, hoping that the past few days with Tor and Brax wasn’t some perverted joke.
I can’t help but wonder if this was all a weird charade to break me though. Maybe they do this to all their ‘Tributes’. The thought leaves me curling into a ball in the middle of the bundle I’m encased in, but then the sensation of warmth suffuses me, and I feel Brax at the edges of my mind. He’s concerned, but trying to give me assurances, I think. There aren’t any words, butI focus on him as I huddle in the fur-covered pallet and close my eyes.
The slight thump of the landing takes me by surprise and my heart begins to beat painfully hard as I sit up and try to steel myself to whatever’s coming next. Neither Brax nor Tor have been forthcoming about their home. Lair?
The edges of the fur fall away, and I take in my new surroundings. We’re in a huge cave with a high, naturally vaulted ceiling. It’s dim, but not dark so I can easily make out the space.
‘So, this is the Tribute,’ says a low, female voice from right behind me that makes me jump and twist my head quickly to look.
There’s a woman there. Tall and muscular with long, black hair in a high ponytail. She’s wearing the same kind of clothes as I am under my many layers of furs.
Her eyes are cold and assessing. They focus on my hair for a beat too long. ‘My, my. Aziel is going to have a field day with you.’
I glance around and swallow hard, trying to locate Tor and Brax, but it’s only the former I see. He’s throwing on his clothes nearby. He looks up at the female’s voice, a bored expression on his face, but says nothing.
She finally takes her eyes off me and turns to him. They narrow slightly. ‘Your protégé returned here days ago. What took you so long, teacher?’
The last word is practically spat as if Tor is beneath her, and I frown when his head dips a little in deference to her. I’d known Tor wasn’t in charge here, but by the way she speaks, and his body language, I’m suddenly wondering how far down the pecking order he actually is. And what that might mean for me.
‘Injury and the storm delayed me,’ is all he says, not looking at her.
She snorts and turns back to me.
‘Get up,’ she orders. ‘Lose the furs. Aziel will want to look at his prize properly.’
I glance at Tor, but he doesn’t even look at me. Feeling a little dizzy, I unhook myself from the pallet and rise, taking off the many layers of furs while the dragon woman watches.
When I’m clad only in my tank top and black pants, she beckons me with one finger. ‘Come here, human.’
