Page 126 of Pets in Space 10

Hazel

Iwoke up with a start. Everything was dark. It had to be the middle of the night.

Something warm and soft was snuggled against my belly. Something large and not-so-soft pushed against my back.

I froze as yesterday's events rose from my memories.

Dragons.

Two of them.

And if I wasn't mistaken, I was sandwiched in the middle of them.

Fuck.

I must have fallen asleep while watching the big dragon, bloodied and injured, as he slept fitfully. I remembered how I'd felt both scared and helpless. Scared of him. Scared for him.

Meeting the baby dragon had proved that their species was not altogether bad.

The little one had been nothing but cute, never tried to nip me or scratch me.

All he'd wanted was cuddles. Maybe the big dragon wasn't all that different.

He could have killed me when he'd first wrapped his claws around me. Could have eaten me in my sleep.

But he hadn't.

I listened to his breathing, deep yet ragged. I didn't think he'd sounded that way yesterday, before he'd come back injured.

How had that even happened? One of his wings had been shredded to pieces and there had been blood all over him, hinting at other, deeper injuries. Whatever had attacked him had to be big. Not something I ever wanted to encounter.

The little dragon nestled tighter against my stomach, letting out a sleepy chirp.

I dared a small glance down at him. His tiny bat wings twitched in his sleep, his chubby cheeks rising and falling with every soft puff of smoke from his nostrils.

He was cuteness wrapped in scales, but my favourite part of him was the unicorn horn.

I’d always loved unicorns. I couldn’t help it after growing up in Scotland, a country that had the unicorn as its national animal.

Adorable little traitor. He clearly had no fear of the massive monster behind me. Maybe I shouldn’t either. Or maybe the baby just didn’t know any better.

The warmth radiating from behind me was almost soothing if I managed to forget what it belonged to.

I could feel his slow, heavy breathing, the faint mechanical whir that accompanied every exhale.

Occasionally, a faint crackle would sound somewhere deep inside his chest, like dying embers struggling to reignite.

I twisted my head slowly, carefully, just enough to peek over my shoulder.

He was still lying where I’d last seen him. That meant I had somehow moved closer in my sleep.

His huge body filled a good part of the cave’s central chamber, wings half-folded, claws twitching slightly in his restless sleep. The metal around his throat still looked cracked, a faint, dull glow pulsing inside the damaged collar. Blood crusted along his torn wing and side.

His breathing hitched for a moment, as if some pain jolted him even in sleep. A soft, broken growl rumbled through the cave, so deep I felt it more than heard it.

I swallowed hard. What had happened to him out there? What kind of battle had done this to something so powerful?

And why did I feel… sorry for him?

He had taken me. Stolen me. Trapped me here like some kind of prize.

But something told me that if he truly wanted me dead, I wouldn’t be here to question it.

And when had it become he?

I didn’t even know if the dragon was male. Yes, he was huge and scary, but it didn’t mean he had to be male. Still, something told me he was.

I gently stroked the tiny dragon’s smooth scales. He snuggled in tighter, his little claws curling into my shirtless stomach. I couldn’t help but smile despite the fear still gnawing at the edges of my mind.

"You’re trusting, aren’t you?" I whispered softly. "I hope you’re right about him."

The large dragon’s breathing shifted again, his huge tail giving a slow, dragging twitch. His head lay only a few feet away now, turned slightly in my direction. Even asleep, his golden eyes fluttered open briefly, locking on me for a heartbeat before closing again.

I held my breath.

He didn’t move. Didn’t growl. Just… watched. And then drifted back into sleep.

Whatever programming or instinct made him grab me in the first place, it was like something inside him was fighting against it. The longer I stayed, the more that thought settled into my gut.

He was broken. Controlled. And somehow, I had become part of that crack in his chains.

I wasn’t sure if that made me safer… or in even more danger.

When dawn rose and tinged the cave in pale pink light, the dragon woke with a sneeze.

It was a strange sound. Half rumble, half wheeze, with a little puff of smoke escaping his nostrils that drifted lazily into the still air. The baby dragon snuggled against me chirped and wiggled its tiny limbs, but didn’t wake.

I lay frozen for a second, bracing for… well, anything. But the big dragon didn’t lash out. Instead, he lifted his massive head slowly, as if every movement cost him energy. The golden glow in his eyes flared faintly, landing on me again. Watching.

His gaze felt heavy but not aggressive. Just… present. Curious.

I swallowed, trying to keep my voice even. “Good morning?”

No reaction, obviously. What was I expecting? A polite reply? A bow? Maybe a little tea and bickies while we chatted about why exactly he’d kidnapped me?

His gaze flicked briefly to the tiny dragon curled against my stomach, then back to my face. If I didn’t know better, I’d have called that expression almost thoughtful. Or protective. Like he was pleased the baby was safe with me.

His breath rattled again. The faint hum of machinery beneath his skin shifted and clicked, like struggling gears barely holding together. His injuries still looked bad. Deep gashes where metal met flesh. Torn wings. That cracked collar faintly pulsing with unstable energy.

He looked to be in bad shape. Did dragons heal fast or was this going to take weeks or even months?

I licked my lips and sat up carefully, dislodging the baby dragon just enough to free my hands. It chirped once but settled right back down, its head resting on my lap. I rubbed its little snout absentmindedly while forcing my brain to keep up with my mouth.

“You’re hurt,” I said softly. “You… need help.”

The dragon tilted his head. The collar around his throat sparked slightly. No understanding in his eyes, but no hostility either.

I took a careful breath and scooted a tiny bit closer. My heart pounded so loud I was sure he could hear it. “I don’t know if you can understand me. But if you can, you have to know I’m not your enemy.”

Still no response. But still no attack.

Another breath. Another slow shuffle forward. Closer now, almost close enough to reach him.

I glanced at his injured wing, at the torn membranes and exposed metal. The wounds didn’t look fresh anymore, but they hadn’t been cleaned either. Infection was likely, even in an alien. That collar looked even worse – like it could explode or fry his brain at any moment.

He watched every movement, his massive head turning slightly as I leaned in.

“I just want to look,” I whispered. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

The tiny dragon chirped softly, sensing my unease. I ignored it for the moment, fully focusing on its big companion instead.

I reached out my hand.

Slowly. Carefully.

And touched his wing.

The texture surprised me. Warm, leathery, but not slimy. The edge of the torn membrane quivered under my fingers, as if even this gentle contact sent a ripple of pain through him. His body tensed, a deep rumble vibrating in his chest. I froze, heart hammering.

But he didn’t pull away.

He let me touch him.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, almost to myself. “I wish I knew how to help.”

The dragon blinked slowly. A breath of hot air washed over me, not threatening, almost… tired.

I lowered my hand and leaned back slightly, giving him space again. “You could have killed me. But you didn’t.”

I wasn’t sure why I said it aloud. Maybe I needed him to know I recognized that. Or maybe I just needed to hear myself say it.

He blinked again.

Then, unexpectedly, he lowered his head further until his massive snout hovered barely inches above me. His breath was hot and sharp with a faint metallic scent, but I didn’t flinch.

We stared at each other for a long moment, neither of us daring to move.

I reached out again, slower this time, and gently placed my hand against his snout.

The scales were warm beneath my palm. Smooth. Strange. Real.

“You’re not a monster,” I whispered. “Are you?”

The dragon closed his eyes.

And exhaled a deep, heavy breath against my chest.

The moment stretched between us, heavy and strange. His massive head remained still beneath my hand, his eyes closed, his breath warm against my chest. He wasn’t just tolerating me. He was trusting me.

The tiny dragon chirped again and wiggled closer, its soft scales pressing against my side. The little one clearly had no fear. Somehow, that helped. If this baby trusted him, maybe I could too.

But my gaze kept drifting to the collar around his neck.

It sparked again. A sharp, angry pulse of light rippled through the cracked metal, followed by a faint hiss. The skin beneath the metal was blistered and raw. The damage wasn’t just on the outside. Whatever that thing was, it was hurting him from the inside too.

Every instinct screamed that I should stay back. That touching anything like that could kill me instantly.

But I couldn’t just sit here and watch while this thing tortured him.

"I don’t know what they did to you," I whispered, my voice trembling. "But this… this isn’t right."

The collar sparked again, and his body twitched with a sharp intake of breath. I flinched but didn’t pull my hand away.

I glanced at the seams of the metal. There was a faint gap where the crack had widened. Just big enough for me to maybe pry it open. Or break it entirely.

If I was careful.

If I was lucky.

And if this wasn’t going to blow my head off.

I let out a long, shaky breath. “Okay, Hazel,” I muttered under my breath, “this is either the dumbest or bravest thing you’ve ever done.”

Very slowly, I got to my feet and reached for the damaged collar.

The dragon’s golden eyes opened, watching me. Not aggressive. Curious. Waiting.

I swallowed. “I’m going to help you. If you let me.”

Another small spark jumped from the collar as if in warning.

Maybe I shouldn’t do this with my bare hands. I searched the cave floor for my spear. With a sigh, I broke it in half. Goodbye, little weapon. You wouldn’t have been of any use anyway. Not against this dragon and not against the monsters down in the valley.

I stood by the dragon’s neck, the collar now very close. My fingers hovered over the metal, feeling the faint hum of energy beneath my skin. My pulse raced.

“I’m going to try and wedge it open,” I warned the dragon. “I really hope this won’t hurt you. Or me.”

The baby dragon watched me with those big dark eyes, as if sensing the tension. Its tiny head tilted, and it let out a soft, questioning chirp.

"I know," I whispered to the little one. "It’s insane. But maybe insane is what we need right now."

I pushed the spear parts into the opening and took a deep breath.

This could go very, very wrong.