Page 4 of The Exiled Dragon

Picking her up once more, I took her back to the hot spring. The steam rose steadily, the torchlight setting off our shadows on the wall. Her body unconsciously clung to mine; in a way, I felt a reasonable satisfaction in that. My Dragon purred in my chest; it was deep, heavy with resonance. Wanting to rub my chest, I shook my head to keep him at bay, to calm my beast.

Fawn was trusting me in sleep even when my Dragon called to her. Entering the small pool, keeping my leather leggings on, my body relaxed. It came just up to my hips while standing. Sitting lower, her body was submerged in the water while I kept her head afloat.

The mud melted away from her snow-white skin, yet scars appeared on her body. The soil had covered her body, hiding the memories of what she had been through. Dots on her arms, like teardrops, littered her left and right arms. Glancing at her neck, I sighed in relief.

The holes in her arm were Vampires. Hopefully, they did not hurt her in other ways. I gritted my teeth. She may or may not have survived the ordeal. Either way, the emotional trauma afterward would have broken her. Judging by her attire, she had run at the right time. My chest tightened at the thought of something happening to her. Taking a woman by force was a despicable thing. Frowned on in the entire realm. Each royal family deemed it worthy of death by public execution.

My grip tightened at the thought of someone touching her.

I used the lythe soap from one of the storage baskets. It was odorless, but it would get the job done. Since her ankle was broken, Fawn would need some time to heal. My chest felt burdened. What if she decided I was a monster too?

Her once beautiful gown hung by mere threads. I couldn't very well leave it on her body. Conflicted, I raised a claw and tore the tattered material away. Nudity was common in the Shifter world, and it did not bother me. I had seen many women Shifters and their parts. With Fawn being human, I wasn’t sure how she would react. Keeping my mind on the task, I steadied her in my arms and washed her hair, using the best oils I had. If she decided to stay with me, I would get her better ones.

Once satisfied, Razak grabbed a large blanket, dragging it to the edge so I could cover her. Her body shone like the blue moon against the firelight; the scars on her body could not taint her beautiful skin.

Razak pulled the dirty furs from my nest as the ever grateful companion. Laying out a few layers with Fawn in the crook of my arm, I laid her gently. Drying her hair and face, I looked at the scratches. None of them were as fierce as the claw marks on her leg and her broken ankle. Tutting, I find old leather cloths to wrap the ankle tightly to help keep the swelling down.

The large scratch on her leg was from a Vampire claw, no doubt. Spreading my healing salve I used for accidental burns; she moved her leg slightly. Backing up slowly, I grabbed one of my oversized white tunics. It was far too large for her, but I did not want her to be startled by her naked appearance once she woke.

Moving her carefully, I placed the tunic on her and pulled the furs up to her neck. Sighing contentedly, I appreciate the work I have done for her. My heart raced, thinking that maybe she would want to stay with me. Be a friend, someone to communicate with. I would protect her and keep her safe from whoever might hunt her. Once she is comfortable with me, I could use my voice. My Dragon's voice if I really needed to.

I rubbed my neck. The scar was leathery, hard, and tough. Different from the rest of my skin.

"Come on, Creed, can't spar with your brother?" Adam's voice rang through my ears. Adam was ten, while I was eleven and not ready to receive our Dragons. Our bodies were still weak. We were still trying to become strong, so our Dragons would be pleased with the body they inhabited. My eyes instantly brightened hearing my half-brother call me his actual brother and not the 'unfortunate mistake.' I took the timid route with him, not showing my true strength because he would find it threatening. He would be Alpha one day, not me. Yet, me being his brother from another man still posed a threat to him.

I crouched to a defensive position, waiting for my brother to pounce until mother called for me. Her voice rang out like Elven harps during Feasting Season. Before my voice could ring out to her call, a sharp claw ran right down my face and to my throat. The lashes became more brutal, hitting my throat harshly. Screaming was difficult; the blood spread to my throat. Gurgling a, 'stop,' and 'please help,' the lashing ceased. My 'brother' stood over me. His clawed hand dripped with my blood. The smirk on his face died when mother's footsteps pounded the dirt. "Mom! I'm sorry! My claws came out!" Fake tears ran down his face.

My hand gripped my throat to stop the bleeding. Mother screamed in agony. Her knees hit the dirt, trying to take her skirt to wipe away the blood. Elders ran from the huts; some tried to console Adam while the healers tended to mother. Adam was ushered away while I lay in the dirt. Being lifted from the ground, the world around me began to dim. The blood splattered on the ground. Mother's hand was gripped tightly in mine before I fell asleep.

"How did this happen?" My mother's angry voice floated through my ears. My eyes had felt heavy. I tried to open them with all my might, but I was nothing but weak. "Your son, Adam. His Dragon is starting to appear, and his claws came out unexpectedly," one of the elders spoke lowly.

"That's nothing but Fairy dung. That doesn't happen on a whim like that. There is pain involved when you first shift any part of your body. How could he just 'accidentally' swipe Creed?" Mother's breath was breathing heavily, and the sulfur could be smelled on her breath. Her Dragon had always been very protective of me.

"He is an Alpha; it is very well it could have happened. Adam is strong." Heat filled the room; my mother's Dragon was coming forth. She was strong, maybe stronger than her Alpha mate. She was an orphan, and no one knew the true origin of her parents. Mother kept that part secret; she didn't want to cause rumors or doubt in her mate's tribe.

"All I am saying. It was a mistake," the elder stated flatly. "What's done is done. Creed will heal, but it will take time. Now let me tend to him. I will come to get you as soon as I am done stitching him." Mother patted my forehead, kissing it gently. An unfamiliar rumble purred in my chest. Stopping for a moment, she whispered in my ear.

"Heal swiftly, my little Dragon, so you may fly amongst the gods." Another tender kiss landed on my brow. My hand went to reach for her, but my bodyprotested.

Rubbing the scar, I cleared my throat. Razak patted the floor with his slinky tail while he gazed at Fawn. Her face was so angelic, while mine was like a hideous monster. She would not want to stay here to hide. She would want to leave, and go back to her Earth life. I’d do my best to do what she wished.

My Dragon wouldn't have anything less.

Chapter Four

Odessa

6 Months Ago

"I'msosorryforyour loss." The nurse handed me the final paperwork while I sat in my father's room. My father was connected to life support, tubes coming out of his arms, chest, and mouth. There was no light in his eye, no golden glow on his skin. He had been here too long, and his beard was tangled in the wires.

The few lingering tears dripped down my face. Dad's body was still warm, the machine did its job, but unfortunately, his mind couldn't keep up. Cancer gripped hold of him, taking him by the neck and strangling the life out of him.

My father, John Durham, was a writer. He never made much money, but he did what he loved. I admired that about him. He took a second job just to raise me when my mother left us in the cold. She had become mystified with the thoughts of magic, realms, crystals, and the sort. She got intermingled with a group of women who believed in that sort of thing, and the rest was history. I was too young to understand; I didn't even remember the sound of her voice or the look in her eyes.

Dad never mentioned her, not even a picture laid in our home with her in it. He had long lost her once she turned her backs on us. Dad just continued with his writing and spent the weekends bartending. Now that I was older, I felt like I needed to stay with him. He had no one, his parents died long ago, and he was an only child. I loved him. I swore I would never love a man as much as my own father. Not in that sick romantic way, just a way that a daughter could only love a father.

Not once did he raise his voice at me. He always explained my punishments when I was a child. I wrote my emotions, and it became an extraordinary skill to learn. I took up his passion and began writing my own books. Dad liked the action, adventure, and sci-fi novels, while I geared toward romance. The type of romance that doesn't exist in this world. The kind of romance that will never exist to any woman, the kind that makes you sick with longing. My dad believed in love once and look where it got him.

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