Chapter Text
Run.
It was that thought alone that was keeping you alive, as you darted through the trees. The sounds of pursuit followed closely behind you, and although you hadn't heard the dogs just yet, you could almost feel their jaws snapping just behind you already.
Your heart beat rapidly in your chest, and your eyes darted around for somewhere, anywhere, to hide. Your wings, battered and torn, were curled close to your back, tucked as close against you as you could possibly manage. You stilled for a moment as you came across a stream, too wide for you to leap without untucking your wings. The rushing water sent a fresh jolt of fear through you, and you took a step back, turning slightly to run parallel to the water.
This exposed your side, and the weaker points of your body that weren't protected by scales. You cried out as you felt the bullet lodge into your side, probably only narrowly missing a lung. The pain spurred you on, your posture rigid as you waded through the water quickly. It was either this, or run into one of the people that were tracking you.
The risk of drowning, while rather unlikely in such shallow water, was far more pleasant than the alternative.
The pain in your side had caused your wings to tense, and the sudden ache had you spreading them slightly on instinct. Your mind was too frazzled to worry about your now-exposed back. You heard the baying of the dogs at last, and you picked up your pace.
The thought of being ripped apart chilled your blood.
You made it far enough that the sound of the stream had faded. In its place was the chorus of rushed footsteps behind you, men shouting to each other as they finally began to catch up. You'd slowed considerably after being shot.
You wheezed, sharp pain cutting into your side on each inhale and flecks of blood leaving your mouth as you exhaled. The pain that had been pulsing through you, radiating from the gunshot wound that still seeped blood as you ran, had dulled to a numb ache. As a matter of fact, everything was numb.
You could hear the footsteps behind you; the barking of dogs as if through a wall of water. Your vision blanked for a moment, and you only faintly registered the sound of the gun firing once more. You hardly felt the metal rip through you this time.
Blood bubbled up into your mouth, and you choked on a breath as you stumbled forward, landing heavily on your hands and knees. You could see the vivid red pooling below you, staining the leaf litter and dirt a startling scarlet. You felt a sinking in your stomach; a clenching in your chest as you struggled forward. Tears slipped down your face, but the blood filling your lungs prevented you from sobbing. The sense of hopelessness that washed over you made your arms shake harder with the effort it took to keep you upright.
You were going to die here.
Alone.
Forgotten.
If you were lucky, your body would be spared the humiliation of being mounted on a wall or put on display in some twisted museum.
You'd already given up the hope of a quick and painless death.
Your vision darkened, and your eyelids fluttered as you finally collapsed, your wings giving out. Still, your hand extended, as if reaching for something. A second chance; a single thread of hope; the desperate grip of a dying man clinging to his last bit of life.
And you died.
You awoke in a dim room, the scent of old pages and leather surrounding you. How you had gotten there, you hadn't a clue.
A candle burned dimly on a desk against the far wall, and as you sat up to get a better look at your surroundings, you felt the tight stretch of bandages wrapped around your torso. The tattered shirt you'd been wearing had been removed, and had you not been draped in thick blankets, you'd surely be cold.
The room didn't appear to be heated at all, and it seemed quite cold despite the current season. Unless you'd been out for a while? It was possible.
You uncovered yourself partially, revealing the bandages around your abdomen and shoulder. Blood had seeped through some areas, and had since dried.
It seemed your saviour had chosen the perfect time to walk through the door, his eyes meeting yours as you shuffled backwards against the headboard.
"Ah. You're awake." His voice was smooth and deep and wonderdul. His hair was like soft spun gold, and his eyes shone like the flicker of a sinister green flame. His gaze was venom, and his smirk was a dagger.
If looks could kill, you'd die all over again. His entire presence screamed 'danger'.
As he approached, you bared your teeth at him and growled in warning, causing him to stop short. His eyes had widened slightly, and he stared at you for just a moment before smiling slightly, a chuckle leaving his lips.
"Relax. I need to replace your bandages and clean your wounds, or else they'll get infected and you really will die." He said. He continued toward you, not seeming put off in the slightest by your attempts at keeping him away.
Pressed against the headboard as you were, you had nowhere else to run to as he sat beside you on the bed. You flinched as he moved to touch you, and he glanced up at you with a rather serious expression. "It's okay. Like I said, just relax."
His hands were gentle against the tough skin of your hide, and you kept your eyes on them as he carefully removed the bandages. Your breath caught in your throat at the sight of the wounds- deep channels cut through your body, as if a tunnel had been dug right through you.
The other was not as deep, but you could see torn skin where whoever this man was had dug the bullet out. You were glad you couldn't recall it happening.
"This will sting." He said softly, and you had only enough time to process what he'd said before you felt a cool liquid running over your injuries. You jolted forward, eyes widening as he pressed a hand against your chest to steady you. "Relax."
You did as you were told, his annoyance making you wary all over again. When he'd finished cleaning you up, he brought out a fresh roll of bandages and began to slowly wrap you up again.
You were silent for a moment before your eyes darted to his briefly. His expression was neutral, his eyes focused on the task at hand. Still, you quickly returned to watching his hands closely.
"Why are you doing this?"
At your question, he glanced up at you, frowning. "Doing what?"
"Helping me." You clarified, voice going a bit quieter as your eyes met. His gaze made you nervous.
He seemed to ponder for a while about his reasoning, then hummed softly. "Well, why not?"
"What... What are you?" You asked, dumbfounded by his response.
He returned his focus to bandaging you, although you saw his jaw clench. You quickly retracted your statement. "I didn't mean it to sound so..."
"Insulting?"
"Y-yeah." You stuttered awkwardly. You should be thanking this man. After all, he really didn't have to help you at all. As a matter of fact, it would probably have been in his best interest to do the opposite. "You... are human though, right? You don't look inhuman."
"I..." He paused, then nodded slightly. "Yes. I am."
It was no secret that humans were adamant that 'monsters' should be culled. As a Draki, a dragon shifter, you fell under that oh-so-despised title. A human helping you out of the kindness of his heart seemed too good to be true.
And it probably was.
Even as he stood to dispose of the old bandages, asking if you'd like anything to eat or drink as casually as if you were a guest, you watched him closely. Whatever motive he was playing at, you'd uncover it.
There had to be something more to that act of mercy. Something had to be lurking beneath that sweet smile.