Page 3 of Curse of the Midnight Dragon (The Moonlight Dragon #2)
Amaya
I traveled for three days with the human who’d wrapped me in nothing but his dark cloak. After carrying me out of the forest, he’d dropped me onto the floorboards of a closed carriage with the windows tightly shuddered from the outside. He’d ridden with the driver, leaving me alone in the tomb-like darkness that had bumped and jolted me around on the human’s rough road. He’d let me out of the carriage twice a day, once in the morning and once in the evening to feed me, let me drink a little water, and take care of my business.
Talk about the humiliation of doing that in front of him. For he never left me alone. What did he think I would do? Run? I could barely walk in the heavy chains he’d refused to remove from my ankles and wrists. And he hadn’t provided me with clothes. All I had to cover myself was his black cloak which was too long and was starting to give off a foul smell.
“I need clothes,” I told him that evening after he’d handed me a hunk of dried bread.
“That would require I remove your chains so you could put the clothes on. And if I did that, you’d transform back into your dragon and fly away. You’d likely kill me before flying back to whatever cave you call home.”
I don’t live in a cave, you stupid barbarian. Instead of giving away any vital dragon secrets—like where we lived—I hissed at him. Fire should have flowed from my mouth and singed off his eyebrows and maybe even some of that black hair of his. But the blood magic embedded in the metal kept me from accessing any of my powers.
It felt as if someone had hacked off my wings or an arm or—
“Please,” he said as he sat on a large boulder. He pulled off a hunk of dried bread from the loaf he kept wrapped in a cloth. After taking a bite of the bread, he motioned to the space on the boulder next to him. “Sit. Eat. I don’t wish you harm.”
I glanced over at the carriage driver, who was taking his late afternoon meal with the horses. My captor usually ate with the driver.
“I wish you harm,” I snarled, letting my lip curl.
“I imagine you do.” He pointed to the chain and shackles on my ankles. “Hence the need for those. I wish to look at the wound on your side before we resume our travel.”
I wrapped the cloak tighter around my body and glared at him. “You will not touch me.”
He sighed. “I need to assess its condition. You’ve been moving as if it pains you. I’ve been told that dragons have incredible healing abilities, but I’m worried that being cut off from your magic has blocked your ability to heal. If it’s festering, I have a salve that—”
“You will not touch me,” I said, my voice firmer.
“If a wound like that becomes infected, you could die,” he warned. “I don’t wish for you to die, dragon.”
That’s what he called me— dragon .
He’d never asked if I had a name. Not that I would have given it to him. He treated me with the same care his driver gave to the horses. I was nothing more than an animal to him. A clever animal, one who could speak, but an animal, nonetheless.
I dropped the bread he’d handed me to the hardpacked ground and turned away from him. “Then I shall die.”
The wound in my side did burn as if a poker from a fireplace were constantly pressed against it. I’d figured the burn was from the aftereffects of the poison he’d painted on the arrow that had pierced me. The poison had felt like the same fire. But what if what he said was true?
“I’d rather die than let you put your hands anywhere near my body.”
“Very well.” He shook his head before breaking off another piece of that awful bread. “At least eat, dragon.”
I took the bread he offered and tossed it next to the other piece I’d dropped.
“Cling to that stubbornness all you want. We’ll soon be meeting up with someone who’ll make you as obedient as my carriage horses. After he gets done with you, you’ll be eating out of my hand and begging for my praise. But perhaps I’ll remember how you’re acting now, and make you work extra hard before I give you even a crumb of kindness. What do you think of that, dragon?”
“Oh, just take a knife to my throat now, you overgrown mushroom. I’ll never bend to your will.” I tried to march away from him, but I’d misjudged the length of the chain linking my ankles together and tripped. I landed face-first in the pile of crumbly bread and dirt. Ohhh! The sudden movement must have ripped open the wound just below my ribcage. My side hurt so fiercely, I curled into a tight ball to escape the pain.
The man chuckled. He yanked me up by the chain that connected my wrists and pressed the tip of his long nose to mine. “We’ll see how you act after my friend works his way into your mind. I wager you’ll do anything for me just to get him to stop. But by then, my pretty dragon, it’ll be too late. Hell, it’s already too late for you. It’s time you start accepting what has happened to you. I own you. I will own you until the day you die.” He gripped my chin, pinching the skin between his fingers. “I worked too hard to capture a dragon to let my prize die before it serves its purpose. So, eat the damned bread off the ground like the beast you are, or I’ll take Henry’s carriage whip and teach you a lesson you’ll not soon forget.”
He shoved me, and I landed back in the dirt with a hard thud. I groaned and curled back into a ball of agony. That wound must be doing what he said it was doing… festering …whatever that meant. I’d never experienced such sharp pains. And since I didn’t care to add more pain to my already miserable existence, I picked up one of the now soil-encrusted breads and made sure he watched as I took a bite of my gritty dinner. I ate every crumb while picturing ways I would kill the worm as soon as I managed to work my way free of these cursed bindings.
Like I suffered now, the human would suffer later. Yes, he’d die a slow, painful death. So painful he’d be crying for a release that just wouldn’t come. Not until I was ready. Not until his pain erased the shame I felt for being this helpless. Oh, yes, you despicable, ugly excuse for a human, I vow to personally see you hurt until your pitiful end .