Page 11 of The Lost Princess

I didn’t need to go there. The outskirts had plenty of what I was looking for; grazing cows, complacent sheep, and no protection.

And so my diet once again contained meat.

Perhaps I was eating too much, or they had learned I was taking from them. Eventually the animals were kept closer to the houses, and it became harder to hunt. The humans would chase me with sharp spears and arrows, making it dangerous to go near them. I grew hungry again, and this time I refused to be satisfied by bugs and roots. I was a mighty warrior, a—

I paused, confused. What was I?

Surely I was someone. Or I once was. Trying to unearth the truth was like attempting to grasp at sand falling through your fingers. It was impossible.

So I focused on what I could understand: the need for food. The humans were getting in the way.

I stalked them and even attacked a few of them. Not to eat of course, but to warn them. I was hungry and I would hurt them in order to get my meal. They left me alone after that, afraid of my claws and teeth, and terrified of my strength. As they should be.

Satisfied, I kept to my cave for the next few days. I stirred at dawn, feeling the need to stretch my wings. I flew happily, the mountains stretching far beyond what I could fly. Every day I tried to push myself and grow stronger. My wings had become weak in the long time I’d gone without flying.

And that’s when I heard it; a distress call clear as day, full of pain and fear. It jolted me so badly that I shook in midair. The sound awakened something long since dormant inside of me, and I wasn’t able to stop myself as my body turned, diving instinctively toward the source.

I blinked when I saw it, because surely my eyes were deceiving me. It was one of those human creatures, a female, writhing on the sand. Why should I care about this one any more than the others? This one was weak and injured; let the other creatures eat her.

I tried to turn away, to fly back over the mountains. My body wouldn’t let me. It screamed at me in defiance, demanding I tend to the female.

She screamed again, and I felt the pull in my soul.

Fine. I would see what the fuss was about.

I landed close to her, and she made fearful noises. She reeked of terror and pain. Her appearance was like the other human females, and yet not. I found the ‘not’ part quite pleasing. Different yet oddly familiar, and comforting.

I got closer, and she didn’t run. That was good.

She whined pathetically, seemingly stuck to the ground near her leg. I glanced over and saw she was trapped. No wonder she didn’t run away; she couldn’t. I took advantage of this and leaned over her head, sniffing for injury or sickness.

I nearly choked on what I sensed: a wound in her arm, and a broken ankle. She was thirsty, hungry, and scared. Well, I could do something immediately about one of those things, at least.

I picked up the arm, noting the bright red blood that dripped from it. What an odd color. My tongue shot out from my mouth instinctively, licking up the entire length of the wound. She squawked in protest, making the same odd sounds with her mouth the other humans did.

I ignored her. I ignored everything else other than the addictive, glorious taste of her blood. It was bliss. It was spice and wine. It washome.

Memories and knowledge exploded in my head, the only thing that kept me from biting down on her arm and sucking her dry.

Memories of males and females with wings like mine. Scales and colors swirled around my brain until it was all a confusing mess. I pushed it all away and focused on her. I kept licking even when I knew the wound was gone. The urge to bite her was strong; to sink my fangs deep into her flesh, and take my fill from her. I jerked, confused. Wouldn’t that hurt her? I didn’t want to hurt her.

I growled, frustrated and unsure. The female cried, pushing me away and then pointing at her injured ankle. After a few tries, I simply tried pulling the large stake out with my bare hands. It popped out of the ground, and she made a trill of happiness. That same surge of something spiked through my veins at the innocent sound, and I had to fight back another urge to bite her. It was the oddest thing.

The female shrank from me, her fear stinking up my nostrils. I grunted and she relented, offering her arms to me. I shook my head and bent down to scoop her up. It would be dark soon, and she would not be able to return home to her city. She would have to come with me for the night at least. Perhaps she was a smart female to realize I was her ticket to a meal and rest.

The thought that she was smart had my chest puff out with pride. Perhaps I would keep this one after all. The feeling only grew stronger as I ran with her in my arms, unable to fly while on the ground. I wasn't strong enough yet to fully propel both of us into the air. The realization suddenly seemed unacceptable.

As I ran, I swore to strengthen my wings.

Her small head fell against my chest, her breathing evening out as she relaxed. Her scent settled, every muscle relaxing against mine. I sniffed her hair, scenting her temporary contentment beneath the stench of her pain and injuries.

That was it. I was keeping her.

When we reached the base of the mountain, I used one hand to hold her tightly to me and climbed with the other. My wings pumped every now and then, helping to propel me up in the air to reach the next handhold. Inwardly, I growled. Strengthening my wings was now my highest priority. I could not protect my female if I was not strong.

Myfemale.

The thought filled me with satisfaction and brought order to the chaos of my thoughts. I focused on the massive climb ahead of us, taking extra care to ensure each foothold and placement was secure. I would not drop her.

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