Curious, I began to examine them. Simply more brellwood strips wound around the bars. They weren’t complex. I eyed one and grinned. They were worn, probably an afterthought. It still took hours of work, bending and pushing, scraping tiny fibers away with my nails as they regrew, and waiting out the regrowth period once more. Thank goodness for shifter healing. But finally they began to give way.
First one and then the other. The door was stillheld in place by the latch, however, and didn’t fall away as I expected. Frowning, I grabbed the door, braced myself against one of the bars, and pushed. The wood bent outward, and elation filled me until I realized it wasn’t bending far enough. I had to push harder. Gripping both pieces of wood again, I pressed my strength against the door, forcing it outward inch by inch. It still wasn’t enough. I needed to be stronger, or I was never going to escape.
If we’re ever going to get out of here to find our mate, I’m going to need your help, I barked at my dragon, trying to get it to help.
The surge of icy anger that responded to my taunt was far more than I was ready for. My biceps swelled and flexed, and the door began to give way.
Snap!
Something in the latch gave way, and the door flew open, my momentum taking me with it. I tumbled free of the cage, which swung wildly from the ceiling now, creaking loudly. Not that it mattered. Anyone awake nearby would have heard the noise. I scrambled to my feet and ran from the room, trying to put distance between myself and any hunters who came looking.
Much to my surprise, I heard no immediate shouts, no feet pounding after me in pursuit. Nothing. Only silence. Was I really going to get that lucky?
Shoving that thought aside, I slowed my pace, walking through the dark corridors with a purpose. I belonged here. I had a reason to be moving about. Of course, one look at the drab slave uniform the hunters had tossed me in would be more than enough to reveal the truth.
But I had to try. My friends were counting on me. They needed me to come save them. Together we would leave the market and flee back to the wilds, to freedom.
Or perhaps we would stay in the city? There was no outward way to tell a clippy from other dragons. As long as we avoided upsetting anyone, we could move about the streets undetected.
I shot that idea down almost as fast as it came up. It was a fantasy, nothing more. Our weakness would be discovered quickly. Without a dragon to shift into, we would never be able to take to the air. We would struggle with the simplest of tasks that other dragons took for granted. No, living among our people in disguise would never be an option. Not for us.
Peering into one room after another, a new worry grew. I couldn’t find my friends. That wasn’t a good sign. I was already pushing the limits of how long I could move around the market undetected. Eventually, someone would find me and toss me back into a new cage. If they were here, I had to find them, and soon.
I tried not to dwell on the idea that they might not be there anymore. That they may have been sold to an elite already. I would never find them then. Doing so would require getting a hunter to give up their client. They would sooner die than reveal who paid them. Secrecy of their clientele was how the hunters stayed in business. Everyone knew what they did was illegal. But if nobody talked about it openly, the elites could pretend like they were innocent. Even if every one of them was actually a cruel bastard who delighted in tormenting us.
“Milly! Ella!”
I was growing desperate. They had to be here. I had to find them. I couldn’t do this without them. I needed them to keep me …
“Oof.”
I recoiled as I rounded a corner and slammed headfirst into a shifter I hadn’t heard coming.
“Sorry about that,” I muttered, rubbing at my sore nose and looking down to avoid confrontation while trying to go around them.
A snarl preceded hands grabbing my shoulders and pinning me to the wall. “What do we have here? A clippy slave out of her cage?” the hunter growled. He gripped my chin and forced me to look up at him so he could see my face.
His thick, sausage-like lips peeled back into a wicked smile that died an inch from his mouth. The widening of his giant black pupils shrankthe deep hazel irises to nearly nothing. I cursed silently. The man was up to the orb on electro-crystals.
“I know you,” he said slowly, blinking rapidly as he focused on me. “Yeah. You’re the one from earlier. The one who put on a show for the rest of us.”
I swallowed back vomit at the wicked laughter that filled his throat and the heat that entered those drug-addled eyes. The eyes of a killer, one who didn’t see me as a person, simply as meat. As prey.
“Tell ya what,” he purred, looking me over with sickening slowness like I was on a display rack. “You give me a private little show like you did earlier, and I’ll put you back where you belong, nice and gentle like. No bruises, no punishment for damaging our property. Got it?”
He took a slow, heavy breath in and out before smiling.
The leering, saliva-drenched grin caused my insides to clench down hard with the dreadful knowledge of what he meant. And what would come next. I thought about calling out, about screaming for help. But none would come. I was a clippy in a hunters’ market. The odds were just as good that whoever came would join in instead of help.
“Don’t act shy now,” the hunter urged, oozing his disgusting attempt at charm, trying to coatme in its cloying stickiness as he came a little closer. “You put it all out there for everyone earlier. This should be easier. It’s just you and me now.”
I swallowed. “W-what do you want?”
He snatched one hand and pressed it to my breast. “Touch yourself, clippy. And make it look good.”
The clammy touch of his meaty hands could best be described as a wet towel that stank of mildew being dropped across the skin. All that was missing was theschlokof it adhering to skin. I tried to ignore the disgusting sensation. My life very well could depend on me doing that. So, against my will, I started to massage my breast.
“Good,” he hissed in low, guttural tones. I could hear his breath as he inhaled deeply through his nose, his mouth hanging wide open. “Use your other hand too. That’s a good girl.”
