Page 19 of The Lost Princess

Ok then, the wings were super sensitive. I’d remember that next time. If there was a next time and he didn’t eat me.

“Hey! Relax! I’m just trying to help!” I argued, raising the bloody rag as proof of my good intentions.

Dragon Man paused, his chest heaving in great gulps of air as his eyes finally focused on me, wide and wild. Guilt crept through my body.

Super, ultra-sensitive wings, then.

“Can I put this on your wing?” I tried. “I know it hurts, but I don’t want to get it infected.” I gestured with the rag toward his wing again, and he growled.

I growled back, a sound erupting automatically from my throat, low and ferocious like his.

He blinked. I blinked.

I advanced on him, shaking the rag menacingly.

His eyes narrowed.

I moved slowly, kneeling back down again at his side. His lips thinned in displeasure when I touched the rag to the wound, holding it in place. My other hand steadied the wing, my fingers stroking it automatically to soothe him.

His eyes went hooded as I worked, seemingly calm as long as I kept moving a few fingers down the wing joint, pleasure distracting him from the pain.

Fine then, I could work with that.

I didn’t pay him any mind as I gently guided the wing to collapse into itself, binding my rag around the entire thing so he couldn’t easily open it and retear it. Hopefully he understood why it was bound, and wouldn’t try to undo it on purpose.

“There. All done.” I patted the long, gold appendage fondly, fingertips grazing the edges.

Dragon Man breathed heavily from his nostrils and picked me up and deposited me roughly in his lap. He flared his wings and broke through the bindings I’d just worked meticulously on.

“Hey! Stop that!” I cried out, trying to stand to grab my rags, but his arms held me firmly against him.

His head bent down as he sniffed my neck, his nose nuzzling against my throat. How could I stay angry at him when he could be such a teddy bear? An infuriating teddy bear who could bite, but that was beside the point.

“I take it you’re feeling better then?” I asked, relaxing and resting my head against his chest. I saw no point in trying to fight him off. It was not as if I’d win, anyway. The rags would still be there when he finally let me go. And he made me feel safe. Not like my father or like Jarrett. This felt different. It was addictive.

His chest rumbled with contentment though his eyes still shone with fatigue, glassy and unfocused.

I inhaled deeply, and a slightly bitter, rotted smell met my nostrils. I wrinkled my nose. Where was it coming from?

Dragon Man’s lips were tantalizingly close to my ear as he continued to nuzzle me, one hand holding me in place while the other tangled in my hair and stroked fondly.

Alright, I’d figure out the mystery smell later, then. My eyes landed on the rags discarded nearby, stained with his dark blue blood. A sudden thought occurred to me.

“Wait, doesn’t your blood heal? Can we use that?” I gestured again at the rag, straining to reach toward one.

He stubbornly held me in place.

“Oh come on,youhealed me with it. Why wouldn’t it work for you?”

I twisted desperately in his grasp, trying in vain to get him to understand. The solution was so easy! How could I explain it to him?

I growled again, and pointed at the rag. Shooting me a perturbed look, he held me with one arm and reached out and grabbed a rag with the other, tossing it into my lap. I held it up to his face, the blood facing out toward him.

His nose wrinkled in disgust and he bit down on it, spitting it away.

Well, that hadn’t worked.

I buried my head in my hands. Perhaps his blood only worked to heal humans? It seemed like an oddly specific power, and I didn’t understand why he wouldn’t try it on himself.

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