This is an abandoned commission written, continued and edited by me, Nulkurrak courtesy of my patrons over at Patreon

So if you want to help this project reach the finish line in style and read the next chapter in advance, please consider joining the 10$ tier or higher. I also upload chapters individually on my personal account as I finish writing them, which you can find here: https://www.sofurry.com/view/1450599

Some of you might remember this story. It's one I wrote a very long time ago which started as a one-off commission (I received creative freedom with the characters as the client was interested in the genderbending aspect most of all) which I continued sporadically when I had the time. I abandoned it a year back or so, but somebody offered to fund a new chapter for it and that motivated me to not only write that new chapter(that is, chapter four) but to also give a facelift to this very old work and bring it up to par with the quality of my newer works.

So, because of all the edits and additions I have done to it, I decided to resubmit it so that you can all read the newer version which has tighter character development and much more refined psychological elements in my opinion. I definitely want to continue and finish, but since this novel is built on the foundation of an orphaned commission at the demand of fans(And also a client who paid for chapter 4!), the quickest way to help it get to the finish line is to commission chapters or make a pledge on my Patreon.

Story description: In order to negotiate a rogue dragon's departure off her town's lands, a sorceress transforms into a dragon. Minutes after the spell reshapes her body, she realizes that her new body comes with an unwanted addition between her legs that, technically, makes her into a he.

All the characters featured in this story are original characters that I have specifically created for the purpose of the story.

*Chapter 1: Transformation*

Naya's head whirled, like it always did after a transformation. She crashed on her side, whimpering for a brief moment before she squinted her eyes shut and covered her snout with a paw to muffle the now too apparent reek of the barn. Her flared draconic senses picked up everything, from the musty scent of hay to the earthy tang of her own paw. She held her breath as she placed it down, wobbling forward on four ungainly legs to get acquainted with her new form.

Her claws clacked on the coarse floor, making Naya stop to glance at her paws between every footstep. She had strange, stubby toes that ended with short black claws that curled slightly inwards. And she had pads! Soft, bean shaped pads looming over a bigger, pink heel pad. She flexed her toes, even poked her snout at them to make sure her eyes didn't deceive her. As expected, her nostrils sank into the soft texture of her pads, making her snort in frustration.

That can't be, she thought. Dragons didn't have pads! At least, not the dragons she had studied at length for the past weeks in anticipation of this moment. The incantation was right. The reagents had been used in the correct proportions, and she almost fainted from the sheer amount of mana drained by this process. Yet somehow, she ended up with a feature specific to wolves and felines, creatures that she had practiced a lot more often with.

No matter. It was just a tiny, inconsequential detail in a complex, elaborate spell that had elevated her into the most fearsome predator in all the lands. With purpose in her steps, she approached the mirror Tryn and Finn brought for this very purpose, head held high in pride and confidence.

"Rah!" she growled rather than gasp, head coiling back in shock at the creature she faced. The dragon that stared back at her looked nothing like the majestic being she had envisioned, yet it mirrored her movements down to the creases across her snarling snout. She got the gold of her scales and the emerald of her eyes right, but that was where the similarities between her pathetic form and the regal being she envisioned ended. No spikes jutted along her spine, bridged by light colored, imposing webbing. Her cheeks lay barren in the absence of frills at their ends, and she did not even show at least a meager portion of a crest meant to mirror her emotions.

She was nothing more than a plain golden dragon; slim of body, with gaunt features to emphasize her bony cheeks, a sinuous neck and a long snout with thin lips. She poked her tongue past her sharp, needle-like teeth to catch the soft taste of her golden scales. It was pink, just like her pads, smooth at the tip and barbed from its middle half onwards, another indication of a misappropriated feline feature. Wonderful...

At least she had horns. Short, straight, and unimpressive, to be sure, yet the more she studied them from various angles, the more grateful she felt with their presence. On a more dull note, they also contrasted with her bare nape, finless cheeks and tapered tail, emphasizing the simplicity of her shape.

Naya scoffed, then stretched her wings as far as they allowed. Thin veins webbed across the light-yellow membrane, small and narrow, yet strangely noticeable to the slit-shaped pupils of her draconic eyes. Their irises looked regal and fearsome, and blessedly, her scales came in the right proportions as well, thicker across her back and limbs, smaller and more pebbly over her throat, chest, belly, undertail and paws.

All in all, she passed for an acceptable if unimpressive dragon, one fit for the task at hand. Did it truly matter that her first spell of this kind failed to encompass the grandeur of her imagination? Of course it did, but what choice did she have but swallow her pride and wait for it to run its course?

The choice of ignorance, she thought, painfully aware of how real dragons looked like. They boasted impressive fins and frills to decorate their heads. Flexible crests stretched from their brow, down the back of their neck, and continued all the way up to their uniquely shaped tails in the form of an impressing webbing. Their feet lacked the glaring weakness of her pads, and they also tended to be far less clumsy with the wings compared to her uncoordinated ones.

Doesn't matter, as long as I get paid to talk that beast into leaving the farmers' herds alone.

A jolt of panic ran through her, summoned forth by that simplest of tasks. That beast was a dragon; a real one, not an imitation like herself. How would it act? And more importantly, how would Naya convince it to abandon its so-called territory a week after it settled? Could she do it through words alone, or did she have to fight it?

She shook her head to dispel her needless apprehension, more concerned with the imperfect form she had to work with. Interested in testing the flexibility of her toes, Naya dropped on her side and lifted a forepaw. Her stubby toes stretched slower than her fingers used to, weighed down by a few inches of claws on every toe, but still prehensile enough to curl and grip. She winced as the pointy tips of her claws drove into her soft heel pad and rushed her snout forward to lick away the discomfort instinctively. Her features scrunched at the dusty taste of grime, but she kept licking until her slick pads glimmered in the pale shaft of light piercing through the thin upper windows. Dragons groomed themselves with their tongue, and Naya, whether she liked it or not, had to do the same, lest she gave herself away.

She started with her forepaws, continued along her forearms and lifted a hind paw to expose her hindquarters, ready to inspect that last detail of her transformation. For a moment, she simply stared at the somewhat long and thin slit parting the wan, softer scales of her underbelly. She had to lick that too, didn't she? At least once, to get accustomed to it, and then never again.

Naya rolled her eyes before doing it. Her tongue barely touched her sensitive flesh when a strange, all consuming shudder crept through her frame. Her wings twitched in their joints. Her hindquarters shivered, and her claws gripped the ground as a stifled growl escaped through her tightly sealed maw. She curled her tail around a haunch as a surge of tingles washed through her lower belly for a brief moment before dispersing around her slit. Her muscles rippled once, twice before Naya's head swung towards the door of the empty barn.

"I told you she'll notice you," Tryn's annoyed voice came, followed by Finn's raucous giggle.

"She wouldn't be a very good dragon if she didn't."

Naya growled at the two intruders, flashing her fangs to keep them at bay. "Wait outside. That's the only warning you--" Naya slammed her jaws shut to suppress the rough, callous voice that left her maw. That...wasn't hers, right?

Tryn and Finn yelped in unison, froze in their tracks, and raised their arms to shield their wide eyes.

"Please don't eat us! Eat Naya, we're just her squires!" Tryn said, only to yowl when Finn's elbow landed in his ribs.

"That IS Naya, you blind weasel. She's a gold dragon, yes?"

"I am Naya," she said, only for the same thunder to return to her words.

"You...don't sound like Naya," Tryn wrapped his arms around his torso, frowning in bewilderment at her.

"Dragons have deep, rich voices," Naya said despite the unease visible in her tail that seemed to swish on its own accord. "You're here to serve, not gawk, so get to it."

Finn took a step forward, her brow furrowed in doubt, an arm stretched to the side to keep her twin brother safe. "No they don't, not the females." She let out a sharp squeak when Tryn kicked her calf with the blunt tip of his frayed boot.

"Shut your mouth and help the Mistress with whatever she needs."

"With what? She's not a horse that needs saddling," Finn retorted, fists clenched and ready to find purchase inside Tryn's stomach.

"We have to help her get acquainted with her new body, stupid. Touch every part of it, make sure she didn't grow a second tail. It's not like we haven't done this a hundred times by now."

Fin shrugged her shoulders and eyebrows in confusion. "All we did was pet her. The Mistress' spells had always worked right, and she's the one who told us to stop searching for errors that don't exist."

Naya rolled her eyes at the squabble of her twin squires. Although they were considered adults, they still behaved nothing like their status required of them. "Indulge me this time, and be thorough about it. The quicker you are, the faster I'll be about this nonsensical business."

Finn dashed to Naya first. Her tattered linen dress rippled in the musty air of the barn, the ruptured material across her chest swaying back and forth to reveal glimpses of a fully developed tit. Naya thrust a paw forward to keep Finn from crashing into her, but the girl's hands clutched it with an iron grip.

"Whoa, you have pads, and they're so soft!" Naya attempted to shake her paw free of Finn's inquisitive fingers, but the girl held onto her with uncanny determination. She groped and squeezed her pads, one by one, her smile broadening over her dirt caked face. "That's nifty. I didn't know dragons have pads. I suppose they help caressing their loved ones, yes?"

Naya gritted her teeth to suppress a hiss.

"She's a spellcrafter, you idiot. She can grow a lush mane if she wants to." Tryn walked over to his twin sister and ruffled her brown curls. She shook her head out of his reach and threw him a glare, but Tryn didn't even notice it. His big brown eyes stared right into Naya's as he reached towards her snout.

"We'll only touch what you want us to touch." He looked away and pretended to wipe his nose on the sleeve of his worn shirt to hide his blush. "Just like before. To make sure your senses are keen and all."

Naya lowered her snout into Tryn's arms and hummed, emboldened by his pleasant caress. "As long as you stay away from my lower belly."

"I want those soft, interesting and very unusual feet!" Finn squeaked.

Tryn didn't say anything. He simply shuffled along her left flank, trailing his hands across her smooth golden scales while Finn prodded at her feet with jittery fingers. She yelped, squeaked, giggled whenever Naya spread her toes or wriggled her foot to get rid of the pestering tickles.

"You tickle in all four feet?" She knelt by a hind paw and tugged at it with practiced persistence. "Lift it. Leave no area untouched yes?"

Naya did, and let out a drawn-out sigh in the process. Her loyal squires, two grownups who still behaved like children. If Naya didn't owe them for accidentally killing their abusive foster parents when her direwolf instincts took over...

She let out a yowl when Finn's fingers thrust past her pads and into the crevices of her hind paw to poke at the leathery tissue there. Her foot jerked instinctively, causing her to sway to one side and flap her wings to keep her balance. Against her will, her tail swung in the direction of the perceived attack on her paw, connecting with Finn's slender frame. The girl soared a few feet in the air while she held onto the tail, gasping as she crumpled into a breathless pile of shivering limbs.

"Serves you right for being a pest," Tryn mumbled as he stroked the base of Naya's tail. She tucked her wings tight against her flanks to conceal the warm shivers slithering through her frame. Her tongue dashed across her snout just as her claws groped at the bare rock, nostrils flaring with the heavy breaths she took. She did not mean to hurt Finn, nor enjoy Tryn's caress to this mind-addling extent. Even through her scales, Tryn's touch somehow stimulated her more than the stroke of a man along her human thighs, and that said something!

"I'm not a pest," Finn said as she gathered her legs under her, undaunted by a regular accident in this line of work. She dusted off her clothes, pushed the rebellious brown locks back from her petite forehead, and pressed her lips down until they became a thin line. "I'm doing what I'm supposed to do, and unlike you, I triggered a reaction."

"Not the right one," Tryn shot, further flaring the girl's temper.

"I'll show you right one!" Finn shouted, striding straight for Naya's belly.

Naya's lips curled back to reveal her fangs when Finn's hands ran across her soft, pale underbelly scales, all the way down and between her legs. A hiss escaped her, followed by the quivering of her haunches as a deep, raw pleasure invaded her being at having that particularly sensitive area touched.

"What are you doing?" Tryn demanded, ashen-faced.

"Making sure she isn't a male," Finn said, continuing to caress the inside of Naya's haunch. "There is only one way to tell with dragons, and given the rough nature of her voice..."

Finn giggled at Naya's crestfallen expression and increased the frequency of her rubs around Naya's genital slit, kneading at her soft scales with her fingertips. When that failed to produce the reaction she expected, she went lower, and lower, until she reached the fringes of Naya's slit.

"Stop...at...once," Naya struggled to say over the eerie throbs of her nether muscles. She never felt such a strange sensation, as if her very flesh began to pulsate to life. "That is...most inappropriate..."

Her tail pushed Finn aside, yet even in the absence of her hands, Naya's muscles continued to twitch, to shudder, to...somehow grow!

When that mystifying feeling grew too much to bear, Naya arched her back and thrust her hindquarters forward, rocking her hips back and forth a few times to rid herself of whatever Finn did to her.

"Grrrah!" She growled, eyes squeezing shut when an overly sensitive part of her surged upward to connect with her belly. It took her breath away, just like the touching of her clit often did. Was that it? Did her spell somehow change her clitoris in a most inadequate and repulsing way?

When she next opened her eyes, Naya noticed that the two squires retreated a safe distance from her, dead silent, staring at her with big eyes while spasms continued to surge through Naya's lower belly. She emitted a series of strange growls, squeaks, mewls as her muscle continued to shift and expand, acquiring a terrifying hardness.

Her breaths began to pick up from that eerie, overwhelming feeling. Her nether region not only felt taut and rigid, but it pulsated with a steady rhythm that made her blood boil and her thoughts fuzzy. For a moment, all she focused on was her heavy breathing, until Finn's piercing laughter stole away her concentration and forced her to instinctively snap at the pest.

"It's a...it's a..."

"It's a mistake," Naya said as her condition from between her legs became more manageable. "A small inconvenience, one that I know how to control."

Or so she assumed. Her eyes shifted back and forth when her neck refused to twist and take in the reason of Finn's outburst, afraid of what she might find. If worst came to worst, it was an extra limb, somehow tucked and hidden inside her genital slit. So long as nobody touched her there, no dragon, not even her, would know of its existence.

She suddenly tensed up when Tryn's callused hands alighted on her cheeks. The young man filled her vision, his lips twitching to contain his smile.

"Can I touch it?" Finn asked, fiddling with her thumbs while waiting for her brother to calm her down, like he had often done during such accidents

"Stay away from it, you idiot," he snarled at his sister, only to smile meekly at Naya. "It's nothing too bad, promise. Just a...just an added detail."

Naya gulped in unison with Tryn, both of them ill at ease with this new problem.

"I will take care of it," Tryn nodded, slowly retreating away from her. "I'm a male myself. I know how it works."

What did that have to do with anything? Naya opened her mouth to protest, only to moan when Finn's hands latched around her sensitive, exposed appendage. It throbbed again, drawing a muffled growl from Naya.

"Naya, mistress, it's just a--" Tryn grabbed her snout to keep her from learning the terrifying truth, only to falter when Naya's superior strength pushed him aside as her head swung back to peek under her belly.

There it was. Pink, just like her flesh, with a tapered tip that grew thicker up to the ridged base. And it throbbed, and moved, and bobbed! Every time she inhaled or exhaled, her tight meat swung to slap against her belly. Naya jerked her head upwards, growling at the fiery ripples of pleasure that raced down her member.

That's what it was. A male appendage, a member, a penis. She didn't grow an extra limb.

She turned into a male!

Tryn gripped her snout and pulled her into his embrace. "So you're a male. Big deal. The spell doesn't last more than a week and all you have to do is talk to a dragon. You make your request, she goes away, and you wait it out here, in the barn. My sister and I will feed you and stop everyone who might disturb your peace. Aside from your employer, since he...well...he's the reason you're a dragon."

"It is a big deal," she said with her deep, unnatural voice, trying her best to keep herself together. "I can't control it, and it keeps moving out of its own accord."

"Just ignore it," Tryn said while he caressed her brow. "It will go away in a matter of seconds if nobody touches it."

Naya winced, growled, and even whined, a sound so pathetic she felt ashamed for producing it. No matter how much as she tried to ignore it, her member swung up and down in painfully pleasurable arcs, drawing stifled gasps from her every time it connected with her underbelly scales.

"You're a male. That's why you have a deep voice. I was right, Tryn! Dragon females have smoother voices, while males--"

"Give the mistress a break, you idiot," Tryn said under his breath. "That's not what she wants to hear."

"He," Finn cut in. "A male. Let's call him Surodar!"

"Naya!" she bellowed, shoving Tryn back so that she could unfurl her majestic wings. "My name is Naya or Mistress. Remember your place, squire," she said as her predatory gaze targeted the girl, a fierce snarl etched upon her snout.

"Don't be upset, mistress, is not my fault." Finn scrunched her shoulders and dug her chin into her chest. "Spells go wrong all the time. It's up to us to fix them."

"You've learned enough of spellcraft to play dumb," Naya hissed. "You know I'm stuck in this body for a week. You know I can't alter my features once the spell is in place, just like you are acutely aware that my instincts will betray me sooner or later." She walked up to the petrified--or perhaps just indifferent--girl to thrust her snout into her chest. "Don't mock me. It is unbecoming."

Finn staggered back and threw Naya a glance before her gaze sank again. "I dunno. I just wanted to help." A sly smile spread across her lips as a stifled giggle escaped her. "Perhaps we can stroke it until it's empty? That will make it go away."

Tryn sauntered over to slap that nonsense out of his twin sister while Naya's throat grumbled with amusement at that overly ridiculous suggestion

"I've seen Tryn doing it!" Finn shot, a hand covering her reddened cheek. "If it works for him it works for you!"

Tryn lifted his hand to strike her again, but Finn blocked him midair with her elbow. "Hit me again and I'll kick you where it hurts."

Tryn hurled himself at his twin sister, growling in rage at being humiliated in front of Naya. They fell in a squeaking heap of thrashing limbs, each biting, clawing, and kicking the other into submission. "I didn't rub me cock! Demented fool, lying in front of our mistress to--to shame!"

"You did and you stained the sheets with your slimy goo," Finn croaked through her ragged huffs.

"The only disgusting goo is the blood that comes out of your cunt, and I never mentioned it for your sake!"

"Blood's red, not white you...perverted...insolent....male," Finn said while she landed punch after punch at her twin's raised arms.

Naya rolled her eyes and settled on her haunches. Her member still bobbed, but at least it didn't connect with her belly. From her current position, she shamelessly exposed herself to her squires, who stood thrice shorter than her and had the big eyes of children.

Eyes that settled on her as soon as they disentangled from one another.

"Apologies, mistress," Tryn said with a curt bow. "I don't know what came over my sister."

Finn appeared at his side, a deep frown marring her smooth features. "You upset because I told the mistress a viable solution. You always assume I'm lesser than you!"

"You are," Tryn mumbled.

"I came out first so I'm the older one!" Finn retorted.

"Finn, leave," Naya commanded.

The girl scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "No, I--I deserve to stay. To watch what happens when a cock erected through magical means unloads."

"He's not going to touch my appendage unless he wants to pull back a stump," Naya reassured her.

"Promise?"

Naya nodded, and Finn turned around and left the barn in a whirl of ruptured tassels and foul mumblings.

"I know you hate fights," Tryn said. "You should've stopped us, just like you used to."

"Not while this tightness distracts me." Naya shifted her weight from one pair of limbs to the other, but her cock throbbed and bobbed just as hard as before. "How long until it goes away?"

"Any moment now. Think of something else other than your cock. It helps."

"Like what?" Naya's musk filled her nostrils, raw yet alluring to her female mind. No matter how hard she tried to focus on her squires' brawl and how she felt towards their still prominent immaturity, pictures of dragons flashed through her mind. Dragons, as bare as she was, who had but lie down and lift a haunch to reveal their privates. And, to make it worse, the dragon who took residence on the outskirts of the Golden Fields was a female, one who would undoubtedly test her mettle.

Naya's cock tensed at the mere prospect of laying eyes upon her, as if enticed by the distant, vile, outlandish promise of mating.

"I dunno," Tryn said while fiddling his thumbs. "The mission, grand wishes, beautiful landscapes. Anything but females."

Naya's tail curled around a haunch, tightening and loosening around it so that she could focus on the pattern of its motions instead. "It doesn't work. The scents are too strong, and this appendage is so tight it hurts." She winced as her member swung upwards in an arc. "Only, it doesn't. It feels...strange."

"Like you are about to pee, only worse?"

Naya nodded. "It comes and goes." She growled at the boy's smirk. "What?"

"I know not my dragon anatomy, mistress, but us humans don't stay hard for so long."

A cold shiver crept through Naya's spine and along her tail. "Why?"

"It hurts. It drives you crazy. And you eventually rub your cock to get rid of it."

Naya's eyes narrowed. She had seldom touched herself down there as a female, uninterested in such base pleasures. Other beasts had licked her while in her feral forms, and some males even tried to mount her. Yet, when it came to orgasms, her knowledge was limited to books and their vague description.

Her human mind reeled at the prospect of rubbing herself off, but as a dragon, her front paws twitched with the urge to press against her rock hard appendage. Her haunches shivered with want, and her cock throbbed even harder at the possibility of driving itself into her soft pads to relieve her urge.

Naya gritted her teeth and got onto her feet. "This barn stinks." She padded forward, growling whenever her member slapped against her belly.

"Wait, don't go!" Tryn yelled from behind her. "Your cock is sensitive, and if you take to the skies and fly with it while it's hard..."

The boy's words became a distant whisper as Naya's gait turned into a stride. She had to fly away, to breathe in the fresh air and clear those despicable urges from her mind.

Once outside, Naya crouched, stretched her wings just like when she had assumed the shape of a gryphon, and pushed herself upwards with a mighty flap. A muffled roar fled her maw when her cock slapped against her belly, the jarring sensation so bothersome she unwillingly veered left and almost crashed into the cherry orchard surrounding the barn. A few more flaps lifted her past the canopies, and with a few twists of her tail, Naya rounded the barn several times to listen to Tryn's advices.

He spoke of discomfort, of females and their appeal for males. Naya knew that, and more; with every beat of her wings, her cock lurched up and down, left and right, drawing sharp squeaks from her tightly sealed maw.

By the time it fled back into her slit, the heavy scents wafting from the stone buildings below faded into the mellow fragrance of freshly cut grass. Naya flew past verdant fields, over lonely orchards and cottages with rotten thatches, too high for the minuscule humans below to notice her.

She banked left to follow the female's last known position into the Wilderwoods. The lumberjacks thinned the lowlands forest to mere emerald patches, united by thin verdant threads. Only the hills remain untouched, the fir trees too thin and the slopes too steep for the fat, lazy humans.

Naya's untrained wings began to sizzle with fatigue sooner than she expected. She sprawled them open as far as they allowed to glide and recover, then flapped again to gain speed and altitude. The ruddy sun of late evening stared right in her face, its blood-red color emphasizing the urgency of her mission. Several sheep perished at the talons of the dragoness, so it was only a matter of time before she sought larger, richer prey, valuable enough for the farmers to put up a fight for, even against a dragon. If human lives weren't at stake, she would have never been commissioned for this damned mission, let alone become a dragon to fulfill her obligations.

A distinct, eerily familiar scent greeted her nostrils. It tugged at her senses, urging her to pursue it down into the valley, where it grew crisper. The further she veered from the trees, the more its strength waned.

Scent markings, belonging to the female she tracked. Her mind reeled for a moment at the unusual knowledge that she couldn't have possessed, yet for a bizarre reason, she knew it to be true. Her fragrance grew more potent with each breath Naya took, until her lower belly shuddered and her cock shifted in its slit.

No. Not again! She flapped her wings harder, and harder, so that the pain rushing through her muscles snuffed out the tug of her instincts.

The ploy failed as soon as Naya's eyes inadvertently found the source of her turmoil, her very body betraying her by leading Naya right where she did not wish to be. The dragoness fished in a broad, shallow river, a speckle of Onyx standing out in the mixture of grays and blues and greens. Her heart leapt in her chest the further she descended for a closer look at the trespasser, and her stomach lurched due to nerves she should not have possessed.

It's just another mission, she tried to dispel this humiliating weakness that slithered into her very bones. Treat it like one.

Her inexplicable excitement at meeting another dragon hinted at the opposite, horrifying her logical human mind with the countless things that could go wrong by following the impulses of a body she only intended to wear for a week. Alas, she accepted the contract, and the dragoness' trilling greeting already sealed her choice on the matter.

As soon as her paws found purchase on the shifting pebbles of the riverbank and her wings folded, her cock stirred in its home, causing all of her focus to flow out of her mind like the rapids next to her.

"Leap onto the upper banks," the black dragoness advised without turning her head from her fishing spot. "The moss is thick and the earth soft."

As if she was going to listen to her! Intent on getting it over with, Naya merely padded forward, wincing and whimpering as the jagged stones littering the riverbank bit into her paw pads. Fortunately for her, the dragoness was too distracted by her fishing to notice her less than elegant wobble.

Until she did.

"Stop," she said as she lifted her head from the water's surface and gazed at Naya with piercing amethyst eyes. "On the upper bank, before you cut your soft feet."

Naya's head instinctively dipped in acknowledgment, her unneeded submissiveness somehow pleasing the dragoness.

"I will fish for you as well. Away, before your whining interferes with my method to entrap them."

Naya tensed up when the dragoness thrust her maw through the water's surface to grab a fish and hurl it into Naya's direction.

"That's for you." She paused to lick the blood of her lips, then shoved her forepaw through the river's surface and tossed her wriggling catch near the first fish. "Same for this one."

Naya shuffled towards the growing pile, squinting whenever the dragoness hurled her catch onto the same spot with uncanny precision. The savory smell made Naya's mouth water; she reached forward and sank her teeth into a fish, so hard and fast its guts exploded right into her face.

"Don't bite them. Ease them into your maw with your tongue to savor their juices and prevent that from happening."

Naya growled and ran her paw along her snout to clean herself, but the dragoness was faster. In a few leaps she stood right in front of Naya, and her smooth tongue filled Naya's eyes, forcing them to squeeze shut to defend against her licks.

"Eat them all. You're too scrawny for your own good, golden one."

Naya's limbs stiffened and a growl rippled in her throat when the dragoness settled besides her on those most uncomfortable rocks. She trudged closer to Naya, until her soggy side touched hers, and then stretched her wing to cover the entirety of Naya's smaller body.

"If you prefer tougher meat, there are flocks of sheep roaming this area." Her snout poked Naya's chin, forcing her to draw back from the sudden contact. "Do you like sheep?"

"They're livestock. Human property. Humans don't take kindly to dragons who thin their herds." Naya spoke the words with practiced smoothness, in spite of the dragoness' tongue gliding across her neck.

"Disease, wolves and their families thin the herds. I'm only scooping up one sheep a day, and they have thousands of them." She drew back when Naya snarled, flexing her light grey fins in confusion. "It's hardly noticeable."

"But they did notice, and they want you gone." Naya shifted onto her feet, yelping as the jagged rocks bit into her pads. Her companion grumbled in amusement, flaring her determination to seek the softer upper bank she spoke of. So, Naya leaped onto the blessed, smooth ground, her posture low and her wings unfurled to prepare for a possible attack from the dragoness.

"Wanting and taking. One's a wish, the other an action. So far, the humans didn't bother me and I didn't bother them." She spread her great wings, took to the skies to circle Naya several times before landing in front of her. "Perhaps they do not wish me to leave."

"Your assumption is false."

"Not more false than their treacherous mouths." She settled onto her side and began licking off the fish guts and scales off her claws. "I watched those knights stumble upon the bandit camps I've laid waste to. I saw them claiming my achievements as their own before organizing expeditions to slay the terrible beast whose wings cast a deep shadow over their land. They even claim I eat them, taking pride even in the death of their companions."

Naya tensed up. "Did you...eat them?"

The dragoness lowered her paw to gaze into Naya's eyes. "Whatever humans taste, it must be bad. It's irksome enough to unravel them, especially the metal clad ones."

"Armor," Naya added, and the dragoness snorted.

"A lot of good it does to them, when a single direwolf killed a whole party of those tin men. I'm responsible for that as well, according to them."

Naya licked her snout to keep the dragoness' tantalizing fragrance from filling her nostrils. It stirred her blood, clouded her senses, made her squirm as she felt her damned cock shift in its slit. She tried to look elsewhere, to take in the beauty of the valley, but somehow, her eyes always returned to her companions.

She wasn't just beautiful. She was the embodiment of majesty itself, emphasized by her slightly curved horns the color of silver and the spikes adorning her back, up to the leaf-shaped tip of her tail. Her paws had a light grey underside, and her slim and long digits ended with short, silvery talons that contrasted with the light gray of her underbelly and fins. Her slender yet strong body was covered in thick, onyx scales under which her muscles rippled with flowing elegance.

And she was big! Twice bigger than Naya, who even Tryn could mount without much trouble.

"I laid waste to half their kingdom, the humans said. I burned them inside their homes, stole their shinies, maidens and children!" She stood up at that. "What use could I have of a female human? To polish my scales? Water does the job just fine."

Naya covered her snout with a paw to hide her blossoming smile. "Humans have a lucrative imagination."

"That they use for entirely unsophisticated reasons," the dragoness said, her thin pupils settling on Naya. "You are a curious one yourself, with paws the likes of which I had never seen before."

The dragoness gripped Naya's paw in her maw before she had the chance to draw it back. She nibbled on Naya's toes for a split moment as if to test their resilience, then stuck her tongue between her pads to run it through the leathery crevices, pulling back when she noticed how Naya squeaked and jerked her paw.

"I never met a dragon who tickles, and your paws...they have the soft underside of land predators. The same shape too!" She rushed to Naya's hind paws to sniff, nuzzle, lick and nibble in order to sate her curiosity. "Aren't they inconvenient?"

Naya kicked her paw, but the dragoness didn't relent. She gripped her hind paw between her fores, and lowered herself onto her haunches to stare at it. "It's like a gryphon's hind paw, soft and warm." She pressed her snout against Naya's pads, her hot breath urging Naya to jerk her paw in the dragoness' grip in failed attempts to free herself.

"It tickles," Naya said, barely able to suppress her squeaks of discomfort.

"Of course they do." She let go of Naya after licking her paw one more time. "They are exquisite. Hatchlings will undoubtedly adore your soft touch."

Naya's muscles stiffened as a shudder crept through her frame at the mentioning of hatchlings. The dragoness noticed it, of course. She released a mellow growl, shuffled up to Naya and brushed her slender neck against hers. "Share my territory, golden male with land dweller's feet. It's rich in prey, with few wyverns and gryphons to pester you."

"I'm not sure I'm...I am..." the dragonesses' licks across her neck loosened Naya's stiff muscles, apart from one. Her slit began to throb ominously, and soft tingles raced throughout the length of her dormant member.

"You are?" The dragoness added with another fond lick across Naya's snout.

"Surodar," Naya blurted out the first male dragon name that passed through her mind, courtesy of her squire.

"Strong name for such a little thing." She playfully pushed Naya hard enough to send her sprawling onto her side. Naya whined in fright when her member pushed through its sanctuary and scrambled onto her feet, turning this way and that to help hide her weakness from the dragoness' devious gaze. Half erect and dazed from the female's alluring scent, Naya paced around, whimpering due to the hard throbs of her member that kept her grounded in the most shameful yet effective of ways.

"Full of lust, too. I wonder if you ever mated, young one," she said, licking her snout salaciously.

Naya growled in protest. "I don't want to mate. I don't know how..."

"Your instincts will guide you, if you choose to surrender to their will," she interrupted before Naya had the chance to explain herself, rolling onto her back. Her wings twitched, and her paws kicked idly at the air. "A few other drakes passed through my territory. All young, all female, bearing the sweet scent of youth."

Naya would have laughed at the irony of it, were it not for the pressing tightness dangling between her legs.

"Why are you telling me this?"

"You already know," the dragoness said.

"I don't even know your name."

Her head rolled to the side to face Naya. "I am Sarathra, young one, and I'm on my own. What you do with this knowledge is up to you."

She gave Naya a hint with her flicking tail tip, brushing it over her exposed, light grey slit. Her tight folds were slick with pungent arousal, the sort which flared Naya's lust. Every rational thought vanished from her mind, replaced by the raw yearning to plunge her cock straight through the fertile female's sanctuary.

Naya gritted her teeth. She fluttered her wings, curled her talons around pawfuls of dirt, swished her tail restlessly. Sarathra merely thrummed at her efforts to contain her perverse lust. Her eyes were closed, and her snout twitched whenever the leaf-shaped tip of her tail poked at her slit.

No...no, this isn't what I am. I am a female, Naya thought, yet her male's body moved towards Sarathra on its own accord, one shaking footstep at a time.

"You fantasized about mating ever since you first became hard," Sarathra said.

Not at all. She despised the notion.

"Always wondering how a female feels around your erect member."

Never, for she was a female herself, uninterested in partaking in such base pleasures!

Sarathra's eyes snapped open. She inserted the tip of her tail into her crevice, then rubbed it all over Naya's snout. A deep, involuntary whiff of the dragoness' blissful scent was all it took for Naya's instincts to overwhelm her. Whatever humanity still dwelled within her dragon's body was dwarfed by the deep, insatiable need to breed, a primal and most potent purpose that drove every living creature. She tried to fight it back, to claw her way back through the haze of lust, but with each throb of her cock, Surodar's will grew stronger and stronger, until it took over.

Unburdened by Naya's inhibitions, Surodar's snout delved between Sarathra's haunches to lap at her slit with hungry strokes, relishing the opportunity to taste a female with every fiber of his being. Her limbs twitched and shook under the pleasant strokes, and soft hisses escaped her half parted maw as Surodar's tongue tip poked through her slick entrance. His member lurched in unison with the spasms wracking Sarathra's slit, his great yearning already beginning to build up at the base of his cock in the form of a fiery, mystifying pressure.

"Enter me, before you waste your seed," Sarathra urged, spreading her haunches to the side to make room for him.

His mind a whirlwind of blissful chaos, Surodar followed the instructions dictated by the dragoness' tail that now curled around his neck to guide him. He straddled her, one set of limbs on each side, then lowered his snout to rub it against hers and lick her fondly. Their tongues dashed across each other, twined for a brief moment before they parted once again.

"Enough affection, lest you spill yourself all over me."

Surodar tried to stop himself, but couldn't. She tasted divine. Every single scale bore her rich fragrance. Surodar started with her snout, licked her across her chin and down her neck, until her paws latched onto his haunches and tugged at his hindquarters forcefully. Her claws, pressed against his taut muscles, hurt, yet not nearly as much as the wild swings of his rock-hard member.

Surodar clenched his jaws tightly as he arched his back and spread his wings for balance. He sought her slit with wild, erratic thrusts, growling and hissing when his sensitive tip met her smooth underbelly. Sarathra whined and shifted her body to the side, enough for Surodar's tip to pierce her.

A wild cry escaped her, along with a jet of pre from Surodar's overly sensitive tip. Her muscular walls clenched around him, drawing him in with each shudder. He twisted his neck to glance at his cock, then back at Sarathra.

What would happen if he mated her? Would he like it? Would he cum? Surodar shook his head and scrunched his eyes shut. Filling a dragoness with his seed felt wrong; unnatural.

You're a female spellcrafter. Your name is Naya, and you're a human, a flimsy voice whispered within Surodar's mind. If you give in to your instincts, if you mate this dragoness and cum inside her, it will be your hatchlings she raises. Alone, without a mate at her side.

Mate. That's all Surodar wanted; what Sarathra's pheromone-laden scent urged him to do. He wanted to mate, more than anything.

A raw growl erupted in his throat as he pushed his member through her tight, muscular walls inch by inch. Sarathra snarled at first; her toes curled inwards, her wings fluttered. Then, she thrust her snout forward to lick at Surodar's chin with eager strokes, purring in appreciation for his initiative to breed her. She wanted this, just as much as him.

Surodar's limbs buckled as he shoved a few more inches of his cock inside her. Sarathra clamped down upon him, roaring for a brief moment before her walls loosened enough for Surodar to pierce her silken depths deeper and deeper. The clutch of her walls around his member, the rapid ripples running through her powerful muscles, brought Surodar on the verge of spilling his seed. Not even halfway into her, and his cock already lurched in Sarathra's grasp.

Her eager licks, her mellow growl, urged him on. Her tongue was hot, and slick and smooth, just like her inner sanctuary. Denying her of it, based on a random voice within Surodar's mind, seemed impossible.

He returned her affection with broad strokes of his tongue as his claws bit into the ground for purchase. His hindquarters shivered as he tried to pull back, only to hiss when Sarathra's clutch held his member in place. There was only one way for his cock to go, and Surodar's peak already threatened to wash over him.

With a mighty shove, he sank his member up to his ridged base inside his mate.

A feeble roar burst from Sarathra's throat, drowned by Surodar's wild shrill. It lost its pitch with each ridge he pushed past Sarathra's trembling lips and into her tight tunnel, until their bellies pressed together. Sarathra's breath grew sporadic, and her eyes narrow with every lick she planted upon Surodar's snout. Her muscle kneaded around his length with renewed vigor, shattering his last efforts to contain his seed.

Surodar flared his wings and buried his head deep into Sarathra's chest as he unleashed the full might of his essence inside Sarathra's clenching depths. His roar faltered with every wild spurt that left his throbbing shaft, and his limbs quaked under the might of his orgasm. It washed through him, a wave of bliss unlike anything Surodar had ever experienced, leaving him drained and weak. He crashed upon Sarathra's exposed belly, panting from the sheer might of his lurching member.

Sarathra's growls became harsher the more seed Surodar pumped into her. She wrapped her tail around his, squeezing it tight, yet not tighter than her nether depths squeezed his cock. Surodar forced his eyes shut, roaring for a second time as the wave of bliss washed through him once again. His member rocked with renewed vigor, gushing out the strands of fiery draconic essence that Sarathra's insides craved for. She milked his length with thorough strokes, up until his flesh grew weak and her grip lessened around him.

Surodar blinked fast to clear the haze from his eyes. With his senses numb from the ecstasy of the orgasm, Surodar remember who he was.

Naya.

She growled at the realization of her doing, at the slickness surrounding her member. She tried to pull out, but Sarathra's claws found her shoulders and haunches, just like her snout found hers.

"Remain inside me," she said between the nuzzles she planted upon Naya's snout and chin. "Ignore the humans. Forget about the territory you want to find." She drew back, enough for her slitted amethysts to bear into Naya's eyes. "Your place is inside me."

Naya's maw shot open, but no roar came out.

What have I done? She thought, the urgency of her plight mellowed by the pleasant caress of Sarathra's tongue.

*Chapter 2: Worthy Mate*

"You're getting better at this," Sarathra crooned, her tongue following Surodar's jawline. "Or maybe you always were, and simply required the company to share your talents with."

The golden drake hummed in contentment as he lifted his left hind paw off her vent, his nostrils flaring to take in the pleasant scent of their combined fluids. They coated his paw pads as well, still warm, a perfect lubricant. To show his beloved mate that she had it right, that he had indeed learned something during these five days, Surodar placed his hind paw at the beginning of her vent, sliding his smooth, meaty pads along her puffed up entrance, his toes encasing her lips between them, applying soft pressure to them.

Sarathra released a shuddering growl, her own toes clenching from that lewd massage along her most sensitive area. "Does it bother you, knowing that you are not my first? That other males have shared your position? That I have willingly taken their seed, just like I took yours?" she said, stroking his neck with a forepaw while her tongue bathed his snout in slow, loving licks.

"Mrrrrh," Surodar purred, closing his eyes to savor her affection. "It is better this way, to have you guide me and teach me how to be a worthy male."

He had to bite back a chuckle at the irony of that statement, one still completely lost on his beloved mate. She did not know of Naya, of a previous existence lived in the civilized world as a human. At times, Surodar wished to simply forsake that part of himself and fully embrace this mysterious path destiny had set him on, but the intimate knowledge that this was simply a dream held him back. Two days from now, he would wake up from it as Naya, but until then, he planned to keep that worry at the back of his mind.

"It will take you longer to become a better hunter, but no dragon has ever touched me down there with his hind paws the way you do. No dragon released his seed inside me as fast as you did the first time, and since that moment, you've changed from a timid whelp into a mate that I cherish more than you expect."

Surodar chose to remain silent, running his pads up and down her seed drenched pussy, stoking the shudders wracking her frame, keeping his mate trapped in a state of constant euphoria.

Worthy mate...he was anything but that. Sarathra hunted for him. Sarathra showed him around. Sarathra bathed him, kept him warm during the colder nights, and protected him from a pack of direwolves that had managed to catch Surodar unawares. Without Sarathra, he was just a bumbling whelp, good for nothing.

It perplexed Surodar, how a strong, capable female like herself had latched onto a weakling such as him, a glorified messenger. He had initially intended to give her an ominous warning to leave these lands, and instead, she took away his most precious offering: his seed.

Surodar tensed up, his mate's silken tongue too much for him to bear. He felt awfully self-conscious about his situation, that of a female spellcrafter called Naya, who had transformed into a male dragon for the purpose of an assignment. She named herself Surodar and had embraced this existence to keep the lie going, to try and seek further opportunities to send her away while completely oblivious to the one thing he never expected.

To fall in love with her.

Sarathra, ever the resourceful dragoness, coerced Surodar into lingering around for a while, fully aware that her scent, the sight of her sex, and the promise of mating would be too great a temptation for an inexperienced male. And so, Surodar had mated with Sarathra more than a dozen times, enough to impregnate the lonely dragoness without the shadow of a doubt and bind himself to her in a most unconventional way.

But Naya, on the other hand, owed Sarathra nothing, so after those two days passed and the spell wore off...

An ominous shiver slithered through Surodar. He whimpered softly, loosening a cry for help, hoping that his mate would ask the proper questions and put an end to this charade.

Sarathra didn't pick his cue, so she continued to groom him, purring her delight at the way his padded toes fondled her nethers. One glance into her amethyst eyes made Surodar's scales tingle and his stomach churn with a thousand emotions. The warmth of her wing, draped over his smaller form, warmed him better than any blanket ever did, and her licks! Those soft, wet touches had him rumble his love for her with various flowing tunes, his snout always seeking hers to bump against in loving gestures.

Surodar the dragon was madly in love with Sarathra, which troubled Naya the human a great deal. After five days spent in this form, Surodar had learned when to push Naya into a corner of his mind, and when to allow her more space, lest he lost his identity, his very soul.

This was one such moment, and it made Surodar regret every moment of it. How could he enjoy his mate's embrace, when a swarm of thoughts kept his mind off it?

"I should hunt something for you," he said in an attempt to get some time to himself and clear his head in the process.

"You're a terrible hunter. I'm not going to allow that," Sarathra grumbled, trudging closer to him.

They both laid on their side, so that Surodar could play with Sarathra's vent. Her wriggling form forced his paw off her sex, her belly connecting with his, gray scales kissing his sunlit ones. He wanted to say more, but her tongue blocked his snout, assaulting his nostrils with a series of fast, excited licks.

"Does it hurt your pride, Surodar? For the female to provide for her mate?"

"You called me your mate a day ago. That should make us equal," he pointed out, even though his heart clenched at the sound of that word. Mate. A title that made Surodar want nothing more than to shrink to the size of a flea and fly away as far as he could.

But he couldn't. He had a responsibility to the mother of his hatchlings, and somehow, he had to manage.

"Didn't expect you to be so astute after emptying your essence inside me." To balm his ego, she rubbed her frilled cheek against his, emitting soft, pleasant sounds.

She had it right. If the implications behind that word didn't strike Surodar like a lightning bolt, he would have fallen asleep, lodged inside Sarathra, their physical bond mirroring the feelings they shared.

"And you expect me to just breed and sleep?"

"Shouldn't you? Perhaps I take great delight in looking over a fatigued male."

"What about one who smears the product of our mating all over your folds?" Surodar asked, feeling his slit heat up at the lewd thought.

"That is plain erotic, not adorable. Have you done that with all the females you mated with?"

This infuriating question. Again! Although Sarathra knew, without the shadow of a doubt, that she was Surodar's first, she kept nudging and teasing him for reassurance, the only chink in the armor of this great and lovely being.

"If you were not my first, would I have required several mating attempts to understand that there is more to a mating than just working myself to climax as quickly as possible?" Surodar said, placing his forepaws on the sides of her snout and basking her face with liquid affection.

"Or maybe you are just pent-up and lonely," she teased. No--not a mere tease. Her eyes darted to the sides, her jaws set firmly in their sockets, and she tightened the hold of her wing over Surodar, as if clinging to her prized possession.

Clues like these helped Surodar piece up her past. Dragons, in this part of the land, weren't monogamous. Might have been the presence of the intelligent races. Might have been a different cause altogether. Either way, males were free to simply mate, impregnate a female, and fly off, similar to most big cats. Or, they could stick around and help raise the little ones.

Sarathra must have dealt with the former type of male. She made it a habit not to discuss her past, but at times, it still came back to haunt her.

"I won't leave you," Surodar reassured her despite Naya's overwhelming protests at the back of his mind. "There is not a day I wish to spend without you."

"That may not be up to you," Sarathra said, her words making Surodar's heart shrink to the size of a pebble. "You seemed well-versed into the affair of humans, and two of them are coming our way, wearing those ridiculous metal outfits they call armor."

Surodar's wings jerked with the urge to fly off and meet them before his mate had the opportunity to do that, but Sarathra latched her paws around his shoulder and leaned over him to lick his leathery ears.

"I'll handle them. You stay behind me. The less of you they see, the better. Whatever past you shared with them, it no longer matters. You belong with me now, rrr?"

He wanted to object, to let his mate know that he had far more experience in dealing with humans, but Sarathra was already on her feet, her wings sprawled like protective curtains, tail swaying with practiced nonchalance.

Their booted footfalls soon reached Surodar's ears as well, his senses purposely dulled. After experience severe confusion during her first transformations, Naya began to employ this necessary restriction to prevent certain symptoms once her transformation spell wore off, like withdrawal. After experiencing the world through the heightened senses of various beasts, her human form felt sluggish and impaired on multiple levels, a drawback that others could take advantage of.

The rattling of their armor grew in intensity, but Sarathra remained undisturbed, her head turning around to take in the highlands sprawling behind them. They chose to lay on the fringe of a copse of trees, too close to a sheep farm. Somebody must've spotted them and alerted whoever came to negotiate their departure.

Apprehension bloomed within Surodar's breast. He pushed himself up as well, nuzzling and licking at the base of Sarathra's wing until the dragoness relented, folding her wings to the sides to give him a reassuring glance.

"Don't be so stiff, mate. No dragons died to humans. They spin whatever tales suit them."

Close enough. The mayor of Karad's Rest, a town situated relatively close to the border with Jharedym, didn't have to soil his reputation, or that of his people, when it came to dealing with dragons. If negotiations to relocate their resident dragons elsewhere failed, he had but send an envoy to Jharedym and have the wyvern riders rid them of the nuisance. They never asked for payment either, the bodies of their quarry valuable enough to their dragonscale workers and alchemysts.

Surodar sat on his haunches to contain his worry, clawing at the ground and looking around the bend. A clean shaved head popped first, followed by the unmistakable curly, auburn hair of sergeant Garen, the very man who had commissioned Naya's services. The sight of his burgundy brigandine raiment and stark features made his heart skip a beat and his breath hitch in his throat.

Sarathra noticed his uneasiness and began licking at his cheek, regardless of the approaching visitors.

"Got yourself a mate, miss dragon," Garen said, clasping his hands and rubbing them together, flaunting a confident smirk. "Should we bring you a shipment of twigs and fluff for the nest? Blankets, furs, pillows? Whatever it takes to make your stay pleasant?"

Surodar smelled the bitter sarcasm from a mile away, the man's brown eyes narrow, focused, oozing coldness.

"I'll have you informed on where to deliver them as soon as we pick a location," she said, laying down on her side, purposefully shifting her tail away from her vent to give the two humans a glimpse of the outcome of their mating.

Surodar bit back his growl, every muscle in his body tightening with the urge to jump in front of her and cover that worrisome sight that would only flare the humans' paranoia regarding Sarathra's innocent intentions.

But to what end? They had already seen it, for the bald one kept licking his lips, gaze dancing back and forth between Sarathra's sex and Garen's tall, imposing form.

Dear Sarathra...she fell straight into Garen's trap.

"Uhm, she's serious, sergeant, if you just uhm...take a look under her tail," the bald one muttered.

That earned him a slap across the back of his head. "I brought you as a witness, to shut up and witness in silence."

The corner of his mouth angled into an elegant grin as Garen bowed his head reverently. "May your clutch live long, miss dragon. Why, we'll do our utmost to house not one, or two, but a whole family of you fire-breathing, thieving, moody beasts on our lands. Make yourself at home, and feel free to eat whatever you like and whoever you like."

"We don't eat people," Sarathra said calmly. "Takes too long to get them out of their clothes, and they upset the stomach."

Garen burst into a bout of raucous laughter, slapping his companion's chest. "We upset their stomach. Hear that? Or maybe they just use soldier armor for toothpicks and leave the dead for us to bury. Dragons gotta respect the customs of their host, right?"

"Why are you here?" Surodar decided to cut to the point, unwilling to let this matter drag on for more than necessary.

Garen's features hardened, his bony, wind burnt cheeks becoming more prominent as he narrowed his lips. "Leave. Go whelp in the mountains, where your kind lives. Fly right now, and I won't have to inform the wyvern riders that we have prime material for their dragonscale armor. They're the latest fashion in Jharedym's capital, and golden scales are in high demand."

Sarathra couldn't keep her snarl in check. "Come closer, tinman. You and your friend. I've an itch behind the ear, and would appreciate a bit of help."

The bald one took a step forward, and only stopped when Garen shoved him back so hard that he stumbled. "She's a dragon, not a focking puppy that you can pet when you'd like."

Sarathra let out a mellow purr. "You should take your companion's example. He's a better diplomat than you are."

That rubbed Garen the wrong way. His fingers itched to grip his sword's handle and negotiate with his blade instead of relying on his words.

"May be that he met better dragons, not petty whelps who can't hunt their own food. I've been gracious enough to give you the benefit of the doubt, but the longer you stay, the more of a pain in my backside you'll become. And that doesn't include your mate."

Surodar held Garen's gaze, taking a perverse pleasure in staring the human down. He had no idea, did he? And why should he? When had he ever contemplated to keep Naya over for dinner? Or at least grant her greater compensation for her efforts? That ignorant buffoon...

"Sheep. It's always about cows and sheep with you. Very well, then. Consider them tribute."

Garen laughed in her face at such ridiculous notion, and kept doing that even when Sarathra pushed herself onto her limbs to circle him. She towered above the pitiful human, the embodiment of majesty itself, with silver colored horns and spines that ran the length of her back, united by light gray webbing. Her pitch black scales ought to have intimidated any man, but Garen held his ground, well aware that the moment news spread about the demise of a human at a dragon's talons, wyvern riders would sweep the whole countryside apart, slaying not only the offender, but the entire dragon population in that area.

Garen was safe, comfortable, at ease, his arms crossed over his chest, head turning around to admire Sarathra's beauty.

"You're dripping," he said, twisting his neck to look under her tail. "Is that what this is? A subtle request for me to wipe you down there?"

"Hrrrr," Sarathra growled in amusement. "It's a confirmation of your suspicions, and proof that we've mated enough times to have a clutch."

Garren shrugged his shoulders in feigned indifference "So why keep doing it? Or is that another thing you have appropriated from our culture?"

Sarathra let out an excited trill, turning to face him. "To strengthen our bonds. Words do not serve us dragons as well as they serve you humans. They can be false, and they often lead you astray, but the caress of a tongue always bears the same meaning, and no love feels more true than that of a male emptying his passion inside his female."

Garen's companion quirked an eyebrow, bringing a hand to his mouth to hide his grin from the sergeant who stepped in front of Sarathra, inches from her lowered snout.

"Leave. Or I'll give you plenty of reason to fly to the end of the world, where the winds will tear your wings apart and the tar pits will swallow your emaciated form."

"What about the bandits?" Sarathra countered. "Did you try the same strategy with them? Because recently, I have saved five caravans, stopped a raid on a small village, burned down a cellar filled with furs and killed the poachers who thinned your herds of prey that is not native to these lands. I get bored, you seen, and I prefer to keep my territory clean of filth that we're all better off without."

She craned her head, snout pressing against Garen's tunic, slitted eyes bearing into his. "A sheep every now and then is a small price to pay to have a dragon dispose of the wretched scum your kind can be at times."

Something changed within Garen. His frame relaxed, his eyes shifted to the side, and his hand fell on top of Sarathra's snout to rub it, much to the dragoness' surprise. "Far be it for me, a warrior, to ignore the valiance of others, regardless of their kind. But I'm afraid a pat on the snout is all I can give you, miss dragon."

"Sarathra," she cooed, arching her neck into an S shape. "I'm glad that you acknowledge my role in keeping some of your villages safe, but I can't do that if I have to fly away. So we can either work a lucrative deal that serves both our interests, or remain at odds until one of us does something they might later regret. I am, after all, with eggs that I wish to lay in the territory of my beloved."

So she decided to play safe and tickle Garen's fancy. Good call on her part. Karad's Rest already had its resources and patrols stretched thin with the building of several trade routes between the villages, and the bandits Sarathra hunted were outside of Karad's Rest's area of influence.

At least until they got greedy and fixed their eyes on bigger prey than peasant huts. That was bound to rile up the squads under the mayor's command, unless Sarathra decided to keep the threat at bay so that the humans didn't have to.

Garen inhaled deeply, his gaze no longer stern, but contemplative. "A rogue dragon is still a rogue dragon. You may be the logical sort who heeds reason, but your kin is known to be...volatile at times, as is mine. We may strike a deal, we may respect each other, and we can even spend a day together to better understand each other, but I'm just a sergeant."

Surodar approached his mate, rubbing his neck against hers before addressing the sergeant. "So allow me to accompany you to Karad's Rest and register us both as protectors of the town, where your mayor and commander can witness our pledge of...protection," Surodar said, uncertain of how Sarathra would act to the term of 'allegiance.'

"Protectors of the town, eh?" Garen scratched at the stubble of his chin, but Surodar saw through his reason to stall. He must have wondered how in the world a wild dragon came to know of Karad's Rest's politics, and for good reason. Sitting so close to the sergeant was enough to give Surodar the shivers, but his mate extended a wing over him, nibbling on his ear, fueling his faltering courage.

"I don't suppose you've been approached by a dragoness going by the name of Naya. Am I right in that assumption?"

Marrow froze in Surodar's bones at the sound of that name, his fear of being discovered so deep that his breath stuck in his throat.

"Naya is not a dragon's name," Sarathra said, her frills widening with excitement. "Is she a pet dragon? The sort that humans fatten and parade through their cities?"

Garen chuckled. "Naya is not a dragon. At least, not a permanent one. She's the town's spellcrafter, impatient, adventurous, and mouthy as a brat, but the only one capable to attain such elevated form."

"Are humans capable of that?" Sarathra's voice sounded ominous, venomous even.

"Mmmm," Garen nodded. "And that's not the best of it. Was Naya a male, his seed would have taken hold inside a female like that of an ordinary dragon, bestowing great magical capabilities upon the fortunate clutch. And if a female spellcrafter happens to get impregnated while wearing her animal form, well..." he clicked his tongue and licked his lips. "Then she should learn to get used to that particular body, because she's stuck in it until she whelps. Or forever. Magic's not my domain, miss dr--Sarathra," he corrected himself. "Is why I hired her to talk you into leaving our lands for good, but if you haven't seen her, it means her skills don't quite match her ego."

An earnest man. Too bad he had the tendency to devolve into his foul-mouthed, skeptical father figure from time to time. The curse of improper upbringing...

"I would have known if a weaver of such elaborate lies approached me. I haven't met such spellcrafter, nor do I have the wish to do so." She snorted a puff of grey smoke, stomping a front paw impatiently, irritated with the vile notion that humans could appropriate her very form for their own needs.

Surodar wanted to calm her, but couldn't, for he was frozen stiff by the interaction that referred to his previous form.

In the end, it was Garen that saved him from a most awkward moment. "Nevertheless, I'd appreciate if you notify a guard in case you spot her. The squires under her charge claimed she's a green dragon. Sage, or emerald colored. Fuck a goat if I know..."

Did they? Without any instructions? Perhaps they were more resourceful and cunning than Naya gave him credit for. Thanks to their deception, she had the opportunity to settle these matters on her own terms and in her own time.

Unless Surodar did it for her, presuming he had the courage to bring this matter before his very mate.

"In return for what?" Sarathra demanded.

"I'm sure we can convince the peasants that a few lost sheep are a better loss than their very lives." Without an extra word, Garen turned around and signaled his companion to follow.

"Wait," Surodar called. "I should...accompany you to the town. Seal a contract."

Damnation! His body trembled from snout tip to tail tip. Thanks goodness his mate assumed the humans made him uneasy.

"I'll go with him," Sarathra volunteered.

Oh no. No, no, no... That was terrible!

Surodar stepped in front of her, blocking her way, unfurling his wings. "You're not going. Not this time. Their streets are narrow, and you inspire both terror and grandeur."

"Good. Should make them consider twice before loosening their mouths." She lifted a paw, which Surodar grabbed between his jaws in protest, making the dragoness chuff in surprise.

No no. No words. He made sure to keep her maw shut by bathing it with sluggish, pleasant licks, the type females such as her loved.

"Let me do this. Just this time."

Sarathra relented with an audible growl, if only because she promised to give Surodar the opportunity to develop his abilities.

"If my mate doesn't return come nightfall, I'll make sure every woman in your town will remain alone for all the nights to come." She spoke with such fervor even Garen shuddered in his boots.

"He will return, he'll mate with you, and you'll forget this threat was ever made," the sergeant said.

"I never forget."

That said, Sarathra crouched and launched herself into the air, letting out a bellowing roar that made the baldie stumble and almost fall.

"Don't tell her that, but if I was a dragon, I'd keep that one satisfied using every means at my disposal," Garen said, snickering and patting Surodar on the neck. "We'll have to negotiate for your clutch. Two protectors are enough. Five are acceptable, but any more than that are redundant and will undoubtedly invite more of your kind to settle into our lands. I believe there are enough resources for all of us, but the mayor won't like to see his beautiful highlands turn into a dragon breeding ground."

"Not a dragon sympathizer, are you?" Surodar mentioned, trying to buy more time for his shivers to settle.

"I like dragons. Just not at first. Too full of themselves, arrogant and prone to incinerate or maul those they disagree with. I may not know much about you and Sarathra, but you're welcome to fuck on our lands day and night, so long as you remember to kill bandits every now and then. Paint your kind in a better light, eh?"

Surodar mulled over the sergeant's words. His kind...which would that be? Dragon, or human? Male, or female?

*Chapter 3: The Promise*

They stopped in front of Trader's Gate, where Garen sent one of the guards to fetch them a full escort.

"Town's policy, dragon. Nothing more, nothing less," he said, leaning against the stone frame of the gate, behind a bulky guardsman who tried his best to stand still and look ahead, but failing at it quite spectacularly.

"Kreorg, loosen up." Garen gave his plated butt a kick, hard enough to make it rattle and the guard to grunt and stumble forward. Fortunately for him, he had his spear to help him readjust his balance. "You act like this golden one is the first dragon you've seen."

"It is, sergeant," he said, his voice hoarse from fright.

"It's a he, actually. Called--" he looked towards Surodar. "How do they call you?"

"Surodar," the dragon responded, shifting his paws uneasily.

That caught Garen's attention. "Oh, lift one of your paws. Go ahead, Kreorg, touch his paw pads. See how soft they are for yourself. Like a puppy's. Only, this one's a fire-breathing winged puppy that will slay the bandit scum that plagues the countryside."

Surodar settled on his haunches, offering a forepaw to the reluctant guard, looking left, towards the forest. While Kreorg worked his fingers around his toe pads and squeezed the claws out of their sheaths, Surodar's mind wandered back to Sarathra and her mysterious departure. Where did she go? Why? And how was he supposed to find her?

Garen chuckled in that raspy way of his as Surodar began to purr from the lavish attention the guard paid to his foot, slapping Kreorg's shoulder plates, pushing him away. "That's enough. Gods be damned man, you don't want to give him a foot massage now."

The sergeant's rough hands slid under Surodar's paw as well, his callused fingers groping at his light colored toes, squeezing them softly. "You're a curious fellow, aren't ya? Soft temper, just like your paws. Makes me wonder if you're not a spellcrafter yourself."

A chill ran down Surodar's spine, his toes curling inwards, claws poking halfway out of their sheath, pricking at the skin on Garen's wrist. Even then, the sergeant ignored the discomfort, switching towards his broad heel pad to caress it.

Surodar shook his paw free of his grip, earning another of those gruff chortles. "Ticklish, eh?"

"I'm not a spellcrafter. No human in their right mind would turn into a dragon for the purpose of mating with one."

"You're not wrong, Surodar. But you're not right either. Spellcrafters are a peculiar sort. They live at the fringe of civilization, taking commissions from people like me, willing to turn into a rat for the sake of a contract. But that's a talk for another time," he said, stepping in front of the gate to signal the five guards to form a rough circle around Surodar. They were the no talk, all business type, grumpy and silent, assuming their position without uttering a word.

"Walk at a stroll, Surodar. Keep your wings to yourself, and no growls, roars, or any loud sounds. The Trader's Gate is the closest to the town hall, so it's only a short walk."

Karad's Rest. A town that Naya had never imagined herself walking through as a dragon. Her paw pads produced soft, silent squelches upon contact with its cobbled roads, and the stone buildings, with their tiled roofs built of red clay, seemed smaller than before. Most of the citizens paused to stare at her, some with mouths gaped open, others through narrow eyes, darkened by frowns. Their awe proved to be short lived, for Karad's Rest had had other dragons as protectors in the past, during a time when spellcrafters belonged in the courts of kings, a rare commodity.

The children were the most excited and vocal bunch. Packs of tiny, giggling humans formed around Surodar's retinue, pointing and shouting their questions at him.

"Are you mean?"

"Have you killed humans?"

"Where do you come from?"

"Can you fly me?"

The guards--bless their ugly helmets--kept them at bay, protecting Surodar from the overly energetic, loud, tiny humans. They kept his limbs tense, their squeaky voice making him shudder due to their intensity. They couldn't know it, but during his walk, Surodar was more scared of the kids than they were of him. What if, somehow, he accidentally trampled one? Or buffeted his wings and smashed them against the passing buildings? This body still had its quirks, and Naya hadn't mastered them all in the few days she spent in it.

The mayor, a pudgy man with a barrel for a gut and bald as an egg, awaited before the steps of the town hall, enclosed within the tall walls that surrounded the circular courtyard. He wore the red and black robes of Karad's Rest, his long sleeves threaded with silver runes, the cuffs marred with food stains. After all, his fingers didn't gain the look of plump sausages over one night. Two paladins flanked him, the envoys of the High Cleric, meant to remind him to pay his taxes rather than protect him.

"On your haunches, dragon," he said, his voice quivering in unison with his jowls when he stepped forward to handle the papers and ink he brought with him to Garen. "Is it only you?"

"There's two of them. The black one that we can't get rid of, and Surodar, the one sitting before your excellency," Garen said.

"Then go and fill in the papers. Can't expect the boys to haul my desk over just for a single dragon."

Right. As if he had other noble beasts seek his protection.

"You five, scatter," the mayor said to Surodar's escort. "He'll fly off once we're done, won't you dragon?"

Surodar nodded, but the mayor must have disliked something, for he stepped in front of him and snapped his fingers to force Surodar's green eyes upon that melon of a face. "Don't nod, talk. It's a binding contract, which means it binds you to us. I won't have you nodding your way through it, and then rain fire upon our town because the clauses displease you. Bratvard, do I have to be here for this? Isn't this all about smearing his paw in ink, getting his stamp, putting the official seal beside it and all that?"

"The law requires you, the mayor, to read the clauses out loud and the dragon to abide by every single one," one of the paladins replied from the bottom of his winged, golden helmet.

"Oh, very well. Go fetch Garen then. This is already taking longer than I expected." The mayor kept shuffling his hands under the confines of his sleeves; he kept tapping his foot, looking this way and that.

"Do I unnerve you?" Surodar asked, and the mayor scoffed.

"Grow ten times in size, sprout three pairs of horns, and have strong enough magic to obliterate my city with a spell. Then yes, you'd unnerve me." He stepped closer to Surodar, forcing the dragon to curl his head back a little, lest that gnarled nose bumped into his snout.

"I've trade routes to build. Alliances to organize. But I can't do that if bandits run rampant through the countryside. I need you, and your mate, and your hatchlings when you'll have them, to be our mercenaries. Is the reason I'm out here, sweating my guts out in this ridiculous robe."

A mercenary? But Garen said--he didn't mention any--

"Mayor!" one of the paladins called, pointing towards Garen, who returned with two clerks to help him carry the required documents, along with a blank vellum thick and wide enough for Surodar's paw print.

"Fine, let's get on with this." The mayor accepted a pair of ornate glasses from a clerk, unfurled a scroll, and began reading, giving Surodar no moment to think whether he did right or wrong in saying yes to the mountain of clauses that followed.

"Wonderful," the mayor said at the end, motioning one of the clerks to lay down the empty vellum before Surodar. "Now lift your paw. Let them smear it with ink, and then give the vellum a good stomping. Do that twice, for you and your mate. We'll assume that mated dragons speak on each other's behalf and all that."

After Surodar followed through the mayor's instructions, him and his paladins entered the town hall to complete the remaining formalities, leaving Surodar alone with Garen, who had to wait for the ink to dry upon the vellum's surface.

"Well, this concludes our little arrangement," the sergeant said, abnormally pleased with himself. "You and Sarathra are free to fly and nest wherever you wish, our town excluded to avoid misunderstandings. I'll talk the mayor into compensating the shepherds for the animals that go missing into a dragon's talons, so that your mate continues to enjoy mutton."

"Are we mercenaries?"

"Ah, don't mind that," Garen flicked his wrist dismissively. "A term for formalities' sake. We've our own army, Surodar. We have powerful allies. Although, if a war threatens to break loose and we're on the losing side, just know that your territory will count among the conquered lands."

With that said, Garen folded the vellum, tucked it under an arm, and clambered the stairs leading into the town hall, leaving Surodar alone with the phoenix-shaped fountain sitting a few steps behind him, producing the most pleasant of sounds to his keen ears.

He did good by coming here. Sarathra would have lost her temper when the term 'mercenary' came into play, but Naya tended to agree with Garen. No town would have chosen to expand its trading routes if safety was a concern. If worst came to worst, him and his mate still had the option to fly away. After all, if Karad's Rest was conquered, the documents he signed with his paw print would be rendered useless.

They had options as dragons, whereas the humans, not so many.

And now, Naya had exactly two. Her human side craved to fly to her humble abode, to wait out for the spell to end and return to her ordinary life, that of a spellcrafter.

But that would leave Sarathra alone, with a clutch to raise on her own, just like her previous one.

This choice was no choice at all. Surodar launched himself into the skies, beating his wings hard, giving everything he had in order to be reunited with his mate as fast as possible. His heart skipped a beat when he found her sunbathing, belly up, wings sprawled along the bank of the river in which she used to fish.

Her amethyst eyes cracked open at the thump that heralded Surodar's landing, drifting towards him lazily.

"That didn't take long. I half expected them to chain you to a table, legs sprawled, so they could tickle your paws in search of new methods to slay dragons."

"I'm not that ticklish!"

Sarathra chuffed. "Yes you are, especially in the hinds. Come closer, and I'll show you just how ticklish you are."

Surodar approached her, but not because he had a point to prove. A film of slick sheen covered her sex, oozing that potent and intoxicating fragrance. One whiff, and Surodar's slit already tingled, his meat spilling from its dainty nest. He released a muffled whining sound as he nuzzled her neck, kissing her snout a few times, shaking his head out of her forepaws so that he could slide his snout further down her belly.

"Impatient, are we?" Sarathra rolled onto her side, her haunch flowing over her sex, covering that alluring sight. She sprang onto her feet, sparing a glance between Surodar's legs, trilling in that soft, almost erotic way of hers. "You've been thinking of me as well, haven't you?"

More than she suspected, actually. Surodar's stomach churned due to nerves, and his wings shuddered in their sockets. His tail curled inwards, tucking between his legs, tail tip flicking restlessly.

"Always. I--I'm not the mate you think I am," he said, his heart pounding, every scale on his body tingling with the urge to spill forth the truth and save this lovely creature the impending heartache of discovering it on her own.

"No you're not," she said, rubbing her body against him like a cat.

Surodar's stomach sank, and for a few, tense moments, all he heard were the thundering beats of his panicked heart.

"You are clumsy. You don't know how to hunt. You have the paws of a cat, not those of a dragon, and I know very little about you."

Then, just as Surodar was about to snap and confirm her suspicions, Sarathra's silken tongue washed over his snout, bathing him with warm fondness.

"But you're mine, mate, and the thought of you is enough to get my underbelly moist and warm."

Surodar froze. He wasn't prepared for this, nor did he want to perpetuate this lie any longer.

But then, Sarathra's tongue found his cock. She licked along his ridged base, encouraging the rest of his meat to come out, his shaft tightening and throbbing due to those hot, pleasurable strokes of her smooth appendage.

He should have told her the truth, but instead, Surodar whimpered and mewled, his haunches quivering and thrusting forward out of their own accord.

Sarathra emitted a playful growl, licking her muzzle in a drawn-out, salacious way, wagging her tail like an eager dog.

The first time, Surodar had been unable to control his instincts, the temptation of breeding too much for a virgin male. Right now, however, he willingly followed his mate to a bed of grass. He eagerly stared at her as she showed her readiness to mate by flopping onto her back, her amethyst eyes bearing into his.

His conscience screamed at him to stop, to do the right thing for once, but Surodar couldn't; not when his mate lured him in with a gentle warble.

He aligned his body with hers, nostrils flared to suck in her fragrance. Then, in one quick thrust, he spread her slick folds apart, her pussy squelching from the too fast, too deep thrust. Sarathra roared, her body stiffening all of a sudden, her muscles clenching all around Surodar.

Spurts of scalding dragoness climax erupted from her depths, ramming against his throbbing erection, splattering onto his slit and belly. Stunned, with his own cock burning with the need for release, Surodar remained still, his claws dug into the ground, his back arched forward so that his slit connected with Sarathra's.

His mate scrunched her eyes shut, wrinkles forming along her snout as she snarled her pent-up desire, her toes clenching and relaxing in unison with the spasms wracking her depths. That gentle kneading motion filled Surodar with an eerie warmth. He felt light-headed, as if riding a high. Not a physical, but an emotional one, Sarathra's quick orgasm connecting with him on a deeper level than he deemed possible.

This dragoness needed him so bad, she had her orgasm from the very first thrust. Surodar had no idea why she loved him so much, or what he did to deserve her trust. The one thing he knew, with every fiber of his being, was that he wanted to please her; to do his utmost to satisfy his mate.

As soon as her inner muscle relaxed around the golden dragon's tapered cock, Surodar sucked in a deep breath and began pounding her as fast as he could, breeding her with the efficiency one could expect from a dragon. His claws drew furrows along the ground, toes spreading for extra balance. That erect, throbbing shaft plunged in and out of Sarathra's swollen vent, the ridges dragging along her quivering lips, massaging her sex in all the lewd ways.

Surodar's muscles burned. His lungs felt aflame with the effort to keep the air locked within his chest, so that he could fully focus on where to aim his cock, and how deep to pierce his mate. When he could no longer endure the maddening pace, the golden dragon snarled through gritted teeth, his lustful hiss slowly reducing to a dull panting.

Under him, Sarathra's snout scrunched as well, her lips parting to reveal rows of sharp, glistening fangs. She lashed out with her forepaws, digging her claws into Surodar's shoulders, spreading her legs further apart to give him full control over her body. To keep him going, she gave him a few licks on the cheek, but her tongue was half numb, and her wings once again twitched in their sockets as her second orgasm threatened to engulf her.

"Hrrrrrarrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr," she roared in Surodar's face, snapping her jaws inches from his snout, clawing at his shoulders hard enough to pierce through the scales and scrape the sensitive hide underneath.

In his heightened state, pain felt euphoric, just like the fiery pressure gathered at the base of his cock, ready to explode.

"Mraaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaawwl," Surodar yowled, shoving his entire girth into Sarathra, their two slits slamming together. Seed flooded her cunt, brought about by the abrupt lurches of Surodar's cock. Sarathra clamped down upon him, forcing him still, as if to enjoy every wave of thick, hot cum that her mate gave her.

Spent, with his limbs shaking too hard for comfort, Surodar fell upon Sarathra's belly, the dragoness crooning her surprise at that.

"Such a strong, valiant male. One mating, and he falls limp."

"This one was...it was too intense," Surodar said through his panting breaths, relishing the warmth of her scales pressed against his

"It was. It felt as if we both feared the same thing and yearned for each other more than usual as a result." She flicked her tongue between his nostrils, then shifted her snout to his ear to whisper, "Promise me you are never going to leave my side; that you will never ejaculate outside of me."

"I promise," Surodar said, only to paw at her snout when he realized he pledged an additional thing that he felt strangely comfortable with.

"You do?" Sarathra nibbled on his toes playfully, eyes shining with mischief. "Because you might be tempted to employ your paws on yourself while I am off hunting. They are soft, after all, and your tongue can moisten them."

"They will never replace you," Surodar said, licking at her throat. "I have never pleasured myself before I met you, and I have no reason to start now."

"Now that's a proper male," Sarathra trilled, lounging her head back to surrender herself to Surodar's affection. "You will make a wonderful father. I know it."

Surodar's heart skipped a beat at the implications of a female spellcrafter becoming the father of a dragon family, yet instead of ruining the moment, he continued to let his tongue speak on his behalf, focusing on the elaborate strokes that made Sarathra purr oh so brightly.

*Chapter 4: Black Dragon*

Surodar didn't remember sleeping or ruminating over his tangled situation; only that, at some point in the night, his mate's gentle fangs enclosed around his throat and added enough pressure to rouse him to attention.

"Grrah!" He growled in protest, lashing out with his forepaws to grab hold of her intrusive neck, claws tightening against her scales for a brief moment before they fled back into their sheaths. In his groggy state, all he could muster was an apologetical whine, which Sarathra responded to with an equally frail and timid sound.

"The last thing I want is to disturb you while you're so quiet and peaceful, but we're no longer alone."

Surodar nuzzled her reassuringly after she let go of him, but the female turned from him, soft wrinkles marring the surface of her obsidian colored snout. She was his mate, his beloved, whose only guilt was that she ate human property and chose a false dragon for a mate. She deserved better than a coward who inadvertently manipulated her, all so that he could avoid the inevitable confrontation for just a day longer, until he was prepared.

"The same human from before approaches. The one that took you from me," she said, as if she intimately understood all those thoughts that he never wished her to be privy to.

Surodar's jaws tensed in effort to remain closed and avoid sinking ever deeper into this pit of mistrust, but fortunately, she said no more on this matter, preferring to lick the soreness from Surodar's scales. After she atoned for the less than pleasant way in which she woke him, Sarathra's head slumped back over his forelegs, her graceful form curling around him protectively, an outstretched wing draping over him like a blanket.

He didn't take me. I chose to go, Surodar intended to clarify this misunderstanding, but the words faltered in his throat. After a few seconds spent in Sarathra's loving embrace, they were washed away by his satisfied thrum of resting in the embrace of his dragoness, suddenly unimportant. Six nights had he been enclosed in this most fulfilling of sanctuaries, and yet, it still felt as mystifying as it did during their first day together. Every day they mated, and every night they fell in love all over again, her devotion to him preventing Surodar from whispering the slightest droplet of truth to her. Why would he risk damaging something so perfect? How could he even picture a life beyond this?

Surodar's gut twisted at the mere notion of this, but Naya...Naya had to consider what happened next. She had to improve, adapt, and overcome her complicated situation, lest everything she cared about turned against her.

Sarathra's hind paws clenched tighter around his as if sensing his unrest, her longer toes capable of a surprisingly fulfilling grip. Her snout traveled up his throat until she found his jaw, placing a slow, long lick across its length.

"Remain where you are. Let him come to us, like the servant he is. It's why we rest where he has initially found us, after all, so that we can be disturbed whenever he pleases."

Surodar brought a wing around Sarathra's head to both cover and silence her, an initiative that the dragoness met with a joyful purr at being secluded from such dull affairs. She had it right; he did deceive her into abandoning her favorite sleeping spot by the river, convincing her to return to the fringes of the forest where other humans could inform the sergeant of their location.

And all because he had never found a way to sneak out of her clutch and resolve matters with Garen himself.

"Didn't know you dragons sleep like cats, all bundled up into each other. Quite the endearing sight."

Surodar intended to greet the human, but Sarathra wove her way past his wing to glare at him. "We intend to keep sleeping, so be quick about it."

She took macabre interest in his outfit, all leather and wool and cotton through which her fangs and claws could pierce without much trouble. When she spotted no sword resting at his side, her head lowered on top of Surodar's forepaws to prevent him from getting up, hind toes curling tighter around his soft, padded ones to get her point across.

That she truly intended to sleep throughout this conversation which she only entertained for the sake of her mate.

As if to test her mettle, Garen stepped in front of her head, close enough that her breath rolled over his breeches and stirred the fur of his cufflinks.

"What if I'm here because of her, in part? Should I speak to you, or to her?"

One of Sarathra's eyes cracked open, surprising the sergeant. "Then that is the part you start with."

"I...was hoping otherwise, but I'm not about to disrespect the wishes of a sleepy dragon who so carefully studied me," Garen said while scratching at the stubble of his chin, his other hand clenching and relaxing in frustration. "There is this bandit encampment that I--or more accurately put, the person I represent--expects you to make quick work of. We don't have your paw print, and there are those in privileged positions--including the person I represent--that demanded proof of your newly forged alliance with our town."

Sarathra scoffed, her eyes closing in disinterest. "You have enough proof. You're not the only settlement of humans I've lived together with, so I know which of you to kill and which to stay away from. Otherwise, I'd either be gone or dead, along with my mate and all the wyverns and their riders you'd set upon us."

An ominous shiver crept through Surodar, brought about by his mate's nonchalance in dealing with such perilous matters. Garen fretted as well, shifting his weight from one leg to the other, looking any other way but at Sarathra to hide his discontentment from her. as if she could somehow spot it through her shuttered eyelids.

"That is true. No doubt about it. However..."

"Everything you say before 'however' doesn't count," Surodar cut in, surprising all three of them in the process. Garen quirked an eyebrow at the familiarity of a line he often employed with Naya, while Sarathra perked her head in interest at the sudden turn of events. She did not expect Surodar, a human sympathizer and advocate, to speak against their emissary, let alone demean him.

"Get to the point, so that we either go do your bidding or return to sleep," Surodar continued despite the nerves roiling in his gut. "But know that the person you represent has given me his word on the matter of my paw print. If he changed his mind about the benefits that my mate should enjoy, then the three of us will fly into town to settle the necessary formalities right now."

The sergeant chuckled uneasily, a wry smile forming on his meaty lips. "What would I hold onto?"

"Whatever you can," Surodar said, rubbing his snout against Sarathra's, her purr strangely empowering. Unlike her, Surodar did not enjoy watching Garen squirm on another's behalf. In the civilized society, everybody answered to someone, and Naya had done her share of distasteful tasks to keep her lands, preserve her homestead, maintain her lifestyle, and care for those in her charge.

"I am not the one that needs to be convinced, for I've seen the aftermath of your capabilities firsthand," he finally said, covering the short distance between himself and Sarathra so that he could caress the top of her snout. "After an enlightening first encounter, my admiration for you has increased a great deal, Sarathra. You are not the kind of dragon I expected, for you are the rare sort whose words match your deeds. No evidence gathered by me and my men involve the burning and mauling of innocents, but the less...enlightened ones among my people care little about facts. They prefer to see you as a dragon, any dragon, rather than Sarathra, and that poses issues."

The dragoness shook herself free of Garen's hands to cock her head. "There is only one of me."

"Yes, there is..." The sergeant's great sigh stirred Surodar's sympathy, for Naya understood firsthand how it felt to be branded as a troublemaker on the account of one's species or abilities, like in her case.

"But many of my people don't know your name. They haven't seen the color of your eyes, nor heard your subtle purr or touched your exquisite scales. You are just a black dragon to them, built from hearsay and embellished by a less than peaceful history between our kinds. The same children who wished to touch your mate are now being scolded for their curiosity, and the paw print that he gave us will only keep the mayor placated for so long."

"What do you want me to do?" Surodar sought to pounce on the opportunity of solving this matter himself, but Garen looked to the side in shame, and Sarathra hissed in protest at having choice stripped from her.

"Not you, me," she said, collecting her limbs underneath her to trudge forward, her wing falling over Surodar to blot him out from this discussion. "It is I who he distrusts. I whose achievements are being overlooked, and I who shall remedy this misunderstanding sprouted from our new pact."

"I don't distrust you!" Garen snapped, his gruff voice sending icy tendrils down Surodar's spine. His hind paws now free, he tried to wriggle his way out from under Sarathra's wing, but she wove her body and maneuvered her wing so skillfully he had no choice but to stay put, lest he embarrassed himself in front of both mate and former friend.

"I...respect you, more than my words can express at the moment," he continued, surprised that Sarathra didn't incinerate him on the spot for raising his tone with her. "And I wish for nothing more than to have this respect extend to the others who doubt your prowess. Burn those bandits in their tents. Maul the stragglers. Do whatever you feel like doing to those outlaws, and my superiors will have no need of your paw print when your mark will be a sight so gruesome not even they dare see."

"Do they hold prisoners? Should I bother with the cowards? If they are camped inside a forest or near one of your fields, is wild fire a risk that might bother you?"

Surodar's breath stilled while listening to Sarathra's morbid questions, her even, nonchalant voice unnerving, almost intimidating. How often had she done this? Enough for human lives to become currency in her eyes? Repugnant as outlaws might be, some of them committed crimes as petty as employing the wrong words or tone with their lords, their entire world turn upside down by an almost insignificant folly.

Not my concern. It doesn't involve me. I don't know them, and they don't know me. We don't exist to one another, Surodar repeated the same mantra that had served Naya well during her commissions from people far less honorable than Garen. If he intended to have that group executed, he must've already familiarized himself with the crime of every person in that party, a solace that Surodar clung onto with every fiber of his being.

"They're not the sort to take prisoners, this lot. They're hold up in an abandoned pig farm lodged between two hills east of here. You should easily spot the ruined watchtowers perched atop each hill, and if you notice the flicker of a flame, know that it isn't one of ours. I advise that you burn the big lodge first. It's where most of them ought to be. The rest is like hunting deer, I suppose."

"Deer are quicker and wilier, preferring the safety of the forest. You humans are slow, arrogant, and too confident while holding a bow or crossbow, as if your tiny sticks can ever hope to pierce my scales."

Sarathra folded her wings, then pushed herself up and walked away from Surodar to deny him the chance of lessening her resolve through licks and nuzzles. "I spring human traps for my pleasure, so if you don't succeed in getting rid of me, know that I'll return to get my new territory rid of all of you."

Without even chancing Surodar a look, Sarathra broke into a dash to gain momentum and launched herself into the air, circling the grounded dragon and human once before changing her course according to Garen's instructions.

***End of the first 4 chapters***

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