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“Ugh, can’t you just carry me?” she asks, her wide silver eyes glancing up at me from under long, downcast lashes. The softness of her voice quickens my pulse, stirring something inside me. “Please, Dracoth,” she purrs, shuffling closer. “It’s easy for you... you’re so big and strong.”

The female manipulates me, using seduction as her primary strength. Interesting. I may have underestimated her.

“No,” I say sternly, guiding her to walk ahead.

Princesa lets out a loud, exaggerated sigh. “Fine, I’ll just death march to my own wedding... So romantic,” she quips sarcastically.

Do human females never walk? I recall seeing Earth women meandering aimlessly when I captured them. Perhaps Princesa is unique in this regard—or more likely, she’s testing my resolve, like a Nebian probing for any sign of weakness to exploit. She’ll find none.

We march in silence for a time. The glorious purple sun of Klendathor dips lower, casting long shadows through the dense forest. Princesa’s sluggish pace irks me, and I’m already supporting half her weight with my hand along her back as she groans softly every few steps.

“Wait!” she suddenly stops, panic in her voice. “Did you hear that?”

I halt, scanning the trees in the low purple light, my senses sharp as my claws, body coiled to unleash bloody horror.

“There is nothing—”

“Shush!” Princesa raises a finger to her full lips, edging closer to me with cautious, sliding steps. Instinctively, I wrap my arm around her curvy frame, ready to protect.

“Ahh!” she shrieks, leaping into my arms as I hold her steady, muscles tensing for the coming attack. My eyes dart across the area, ready to rip apart whatever assails us, but there’s nothing—just the light breeze and the long shadows of the trees.

“Hmm, so cozy,” Princesa nestles tight into my embrace with a loud sigh. “Thanks, I was so frightened.” Her eyes gleam up at me, not with relief but with mischief. That smile—smug, teasing. “My red dragon,” her fingers tracing over the plates of my arm with a slow, appreciative touch.

The realization finally strikes—there was no attack. Only Princesa’s manipulation. Clever, very clever. A smile tugs at my stubborn lip, unable to resist her inane craftiness.

“Oh, look at that. Another smile,” she grins, like it’s some grand achievement. “Was it the name you liked? Red dragon?”

I resume my long strides, content to let her have this small victory. Not because of her soft warmth pressing against me.

“Dragon?” I ask, bracing internally for whatever fresh insult is no doubt coming. Her countless names for me are an unending chain of meaningless offences.

“Let’s see,” Princesa says, her voice trailing off as she places a finger to her chin, the other stroking the squirming Todd. “They’re like scaly, flying monsters as big as buildings that breathe fire—you know, just like you.” She titters.

As expected, I frown, being none of those things.

“Ah, don’t give me the ‘Mr. Frowny Face’ routine,” she pouts, her voice softening with a hint of genuine admiration.

“I meant it as a compliment.” She pauses, blinking up at me with an odd expression.

“Because you’re so powerful... and don’t take shit from anyone.

” Her tone shifts again, growing more serious, more. .. vulnerable.

“I like it...” Her fingers trace slowly along my arm, her body shifting as she stretches up toward me, her silver eyes shimmering like molten mercury, lips slightly parted.

“I like you,” she whispers, so softly it’s barely a breath.

The world seems to slow. My heart, molten and wild, pounds like a war drum. Princesa’s beauty, her nearness, her open desire—it crashes against the walls of my resolve, threatening to tear it all apart. She leans in closer, eyes fluttering shut, lips nearing mine.

But before I can act, the memories surge.

That loathsome encounter with Sandra comes flooding back, extinguishing the fire in my chest with retching sickness. A vile wrongness seeps into every pore like filthy poison, twisting my guts into tangled knots.

“Good...” I avert my gaze, pulling back suddenly. “I find you... amusing.” The words stumble out, weak and hollow—pathetic, like when I lay beneath Krogoth’s boot, begging for mercy. Rank, disgusting all-consuming shame surges through me, choking everything else.

Am I worthy? How can I be, when I carry this... doubt—doubt that threatens to unravel everything?

I nearly drop her, this source of confusion, of torment, tearing me apart from the inside.

“Amusing?” Princesa snaps, her tone and eyes sharp.

“Are you fucking serious right now, Dracoth?” She shakes her head, lips curling in contempt.

“I just told you I like you, and you pull away? I mean, I’ve heard of ‘ no sex before marriage ,’ but this is ridiculous.

We haven’t even kissed yet!” She throws her hands up in exasperation, crossing them beneath her ample breasts.

The Mortakin-Tok. That’s all that matters.

The rest can be ignored, like the frantic words spilling from her mouth—no more than a breeze against the Peaks of Scarn.

But the doubt bites deep. Why can’t I overcome this.

.. this sickness? Just contemplating it makes my chest tighten with a foreign, weak anxiety.

I detest it!

Ruthlessly, I suppress the loathsome emotions, encasing them in the hardest rock, buried deep in the core of my mind, where they shall never rise again.

Dusk is approaching and soon this forest will become shrouded in darkness, so I stride toward a nearby hill thick with foliage, seeking a place to camp for the night.

“Unbelievable,” Princesa grumbles, sulking in my arms. Her words stab an icy claw of frustration into my molten heart.

“You’re really just going to ignore this?

” She shifts, her voice softer but still biting.

“I know you like me, Dracoth. I see the way you stare at me when you’re not out there murdering things.

.. the way you take care of me. You’re just all confused for some reason. ”

Her gaze drops for a moment before darting back up, a spark of excitement in her eyes. “Okay, how about this? Let’s just talk it out. What were you thinking earlier?”

This hill will make a fine camp.

The natural enclosure of trees and bushes surrounding a small shimmering pool, the surface reflecting the purple sun and moon hanging in the sky. Insects buzz through the air, glowing in pulsing waves of red and yellow, while the ground is carpeted with spongy orange moss—soft like the finest furs.

“Are you even listening, Dracoth?” Princesa’s sigh is loud, locking her gaze on me.

Why does she persist? Irksome female! Unending, relentless, like a stalking venefex.

“Dracoth?”

Heat rises in my blood, anger simmering as I glare down at her, my crimson eyes flashing in the dim light.

“Silence!”

But there’s no fear in her beautiful face,

Only fury.