If I am to be cursed with the allure of a female, then I would rather be dead. She is not real, and worse yet, I cannot understand her. I have done nothing butwantfor eons. Want for control. Want for dominion. Want for vengeance. But this? This would be torture. I have so far been blessed with never scenting a femdragon’s heat in my cave, and the thought of that happening when I am powerless… horrifies me.
Before I fell, I wanted a mate and dragonlings. To want them again, and still be denied, would be a terrible kind of torture, the type I do not know I could endure.
There is a reason I fought so hard for my territory. It was not only for my pride and its location, but it was for the hope that a femdragon in heat would someday fly by and call out. I was preparing a nest… A nest I never finished but am lying in anyway. At least I know now that it is safe.
“Stay right there. I’m coming for you!”
My heart pulses with anticipation.
It is getting closer, louder.
Hope blasts through me that this, these sounds, may bring me my salvation.
3
Milaye in the Dark
I crawlthrough dead leaves and roots before the tunnel opens up enough for me to stand. Dirt sticks to my skin from where the rain has wetted me, and I silently curse Haime’s recklessness.
The fact that she can’t see bothers me.She’s always been able to find her way in the dark… It’s those dragon eyes.I brush off my misgivings, persuading myself it’s only because she’s deep in a cave.
She’s my life but will be the death of me, I’m sure of it. But for now, I’m thankful, from the waters to the clouds and back, because I found her. Finding her safe—and ensuring she remains that way, despite her attempts to the contrary—is all that matters.
“Milly?” I hear her up ahead. “W-where are you?”
I lick my lips. “I’m almost there,” I call out to her.
Waving my torch before me, the dirt tunnel has been replaced by a tight, rocky path. It’s claustrophobic and makes me antsy—especially since my spear remains outside—but I take it as a good sign that Haime is okay.
If she’d fallen into a pit…
I don’t even want to finish the thought. There are many caves along the coast, and some are just deep holes. My tribe stays clear of them because crawling out can be a rigorous ordeal.
Still…A strange cave is not the place a huntress wants to be. I survey the walls around me. You never know what could be dwelling within. I have to be ready for anything. There could be snakes, spiders, or worse, little naga children leading you into a trap. Gripping my dagger hard, I pray to the waters that isn’t the case.
Hurting a youngling naga unnerves me, but if it’s to protect Haime, I wouldn’t hesitate.
Something scuttles over my foot, and I shriek, kicking out. It flies away, and I hop around, crying out with displeasure. Bumps prickle my skin, and I stick out my tongue in disgust. I hate bugs.Bugs are the worst.
Haime’s going to clean fish for the next year after this.I shake out the feeling from my foot.
“Aunt Milaye, are you okay?” Haime yells.
No! No, I’m not okay!Bugs are never okay. My stomach churns. “Yes,” I say though.Just wait until I tell your mother. Aida will make her clean all the fish in the village for years for this. I daydream of swimming in the springs and scrubbing my skin clean, and the thought keeps me moving forward.
Luckily the rock walls don’t get any tighter, though I doubt the ease of passage is a good sign. It means something travels through here a lot, and I hope it’s nothing more than the naga. But I don’t hear any hissing. That assures me there are no traps, at least for now. Then the path diverges, coming to a fork, and I frown.
“Haime?”
“Milaye?” Her voice came from the right-hand path. It sounds clearer than ever, and I know she’s near.
Eyeing the left path, I tug my satchel forward and root out my bag of clamshells. I don’t want to spend the time searching it—leaving Haime alone any longer—but I don’t like having the trail at my back. Something could be lurking within. Instead, I sprinkle the clamshells on the ground. The thin shells aren’t common, but this is not a waste; they make a great alarm if stepped on. Placing them around a campsite at night can be what saves you from a predator sneaking up while resting. The sound startles them, and you.
Moments later, I’m heading toward Haime, and the tightness in my chest eases when I hear her breathing.
“Watch out, there’s a ledge,” she says just as the tight walls enveloping me vanish and my torch illuminates a drop-off. Haime emerges below, blinking several times from the torchlight. The edge is steep and smooth, as if at one point, it’d been eroded by water.
Getting on my knees, I place the torch and dagger on the stone beside me.
