Chapter Text
Kaden held up a pearlescent scale to the sun, examining it with a critical eye: "From a Silverwing dragon?" he asked the vendor.
"Sir has a very good eye. Most assume it's from the more common White Russian dragon. Understandable, since a Silverwing hasn't been seen in decades, after all."
“Understandable," Kaden agreed, keeping his voice neutral. "Rather unique for a Silverwing, too. All of the other ones I've seen have had a red tinge to the scale, not peach like this." He brought the scale lower and trailed a finger lightly over it to get a feel for the texture. He didn’t reveal to the other man that the ones he usually saw were his own scales.
“It was from a rather young dragon," the vendor told him. "A sub-adult, not quite mature yet. Obtained during the first shedding."
Kaden's lips thinned. First shedding, his ass. Dragons didn't shed scales of this quality—perfect and whole. Nearly all the scales they shed were broken or torn or damaged in some way. No, the only way to obtain a scale in this condition was to carefully—and painfully—remove it from a dragon's body, usually with a sharp, thin object. Like a blade or a chisel.
Not just any dragon either, he suspected. He tapped his nose as if he was thinking something over, then brought the scale closer to his face to examine it again. Almost imperceptibly, he took a delicate sniff.
Normally, smell couldn't tell someone much about a scale like this, but there were certain scents that were magical and would remain long after the natural scent faded. Dragels tended to have such a magical scent, which allowed other dragels to identify them when they were in their full dragon form or when their magic had been suppressed in some fashion. The piercing in Kaden's nose was spelled to enhance such magical scents like that.
Invaluable, really, during times like this.
The Gheyo felt the bloodlust start to simmer in his veins when the scent of dragel came back to him, wafting off the scale.
Not just any dragel either. A Submissive dragel.
He really, really hated poachers.
As bad as it was, hopefully the young Submissive had gotten stuck and captured in his dragon form. However, that was only because Kaden knew their dragon forms offered more protection than their human or halfling forms. It was also because he knew better than most the horrors that poachers came up with. They had ways to force a dragel between forms, to harvest not only dragel materials, but also pure dragon ones.
Chains and heavy stunning spells also seemed slightly less cruel than being pinned to a table with stakes through the wings. With dragons, poachers preferred to work with an unconscious victim. With dragels, they really didn't care if they were conscious or unconscious.
Kaden sighed—loudly. "If only I was looking for myself," he said. "But the money I have is not my own and my employer has some very particular items they want this time around. Pity. I'm sure obtaining something like this would be a once in a lifetime opportunity." As he spoke, he moved to a different side of the stall so the vendor didn't notice the growing and moving shadows.
"A Silverwing as young as this? I'm sure there may be more in the future. The ones who found such a rare creature would certainly do their best to bring about a revival of such a lovely species."
Kaden's stomach churned as he considered the lengths poachers would go to for something like that. Especially if they knew they had a Submissive or female dragel imprisoned, those that were generally capable of being Bearers.
Even though it sickened him and took a lot of self-restraint on his part to avoid his hair bursting into flames, he lingered for a few more minutes at the stall, carrying on conversation with the vendor and buying something else after he set aside the Silverwing scale. It was even more painful to leave the stall behind, to go through the rest of the temporary black market like normal, buying the rest of the ingredients on his employer's list. It was only a keen and honed sense of self-preservation that enabled him to pull it off without raising anyone's suspicions—more than normal, anyways.
Those who operated in the black markets across the realms were a paranoid bunch.
It was one of the reasons why Kaden preferred sourcing materials on his own, but sometimes illegal dealings were unavoidable in his line of work.
"You had to find something to stick your nose into on the very last day," a dark voice grumbled in his ear when Kaden finally returned to his temporary abode-—a campsite with a fire pit that was constantly burning. "I was ready to go home. It's been too long since l've had a decent fight against someone other than you."
"You'll get one sooner than you think,” Kaden replied, turning his head just in time to see his companion materialize from the shadows.
The other man was just an inch shorter than he was, with black hair cropped close to his skull. Dark brown skin was interspersed with splotches of pale skin and stark white scars. He crossed his arms and scowled, dark eyes edging toward an orange hue. Overall, the pose of a sulking, brooding Gheyo King.
"Poachers aren’t a decent fight," the Gheyo grumbled. "They fight dirty."
"And you fight dirtier,” Kaden returned. After a heartbeat, he sighed. "I'm sorry, Lux. I wanted to go home too. But if poachers have gotten their hands on a Submissive…”
Lux's scowl deepened. "You've a soft heart."
"Compensates for your lack of conscience," Kaden tossed back. "And here I was going to let you go all out against whatever poachers we encounter. But if you want to return home, you can, and I'll take care of it all myself."
Lux let out a sound that was half-growl, half-whine. "Rude."
"Yes, yes, I'm a rude, awful ACE," Kaden said flatly. “I drag you all over the place, I don't keep to my own timetable, and I make you do your own paperwork.. Absolutely impossible working conditions for a chronically late, former inter-realm transport guard. Please, Lux, not now. I'm not in the mood.”
The other man sighed and shifted so he was in front of Kaden, nuzzling against the redhead's neck softly and head-butting his chin lightly. "If you're going to be sick, be sick. Don't keep it in. It just makes you cranky when you try," he murmured.
"Who's the ACE here?" Kaden grumbled, before sighing and pressing a soft kiss to his companion's cheek. Then he stepped a few paces away to the edge of the clearing they were camping in and promptly threw up. It wasn't the first time he'd encountered poachers while on the job but the very existence of them never failed to make him sick.
Lux trailed after him and held the ends of his mohawk away from his face "The twins are our Healers on call tonight,” he informed Kaden idly. "Tomorrow night is milady's Bonded Healers, next night is your Bearer's in-laws, night after that is a certain Field Medic."
"Tonight, if we can," Kaden managed to get out between heaves. "If they've got…”
"Simple rescue mission then? No extended recon to gauge how extensive the operation is?"
Kaden simply shook his head. While getting everyone involved would be ideal, things like that took time and he couldn't in good conscience let another dragel—a Submissive at that—continue to suffer at the hands of poachers now that he knew about them.
Lux sighed. "Ask and it shall be done,” he recited, pulling the ACE back into a standing position and simultaneously casting vanishing charms on the pile of vomit and freshening charms on Kaden himself.
The other dragel grimaced at the cool taste of mint that invaded his mouth, but didn’t complain. "I'm asking," he said after a moment. "Go all out. Don’t hold back. Call me for the actual rescue."
He rolled his eyes when Lux mock-saluted.
"Yes, oh ACE in shining armor!"
Then he disappeared into the shadows.
The waiting dragged on forever, a simple five or six hours feeling like eternity. Normally in this sort of downtime, Kaden would have gone exploring, to see if he could find any potentially useful, local flora for possible ingredients, but he didn't want to risk missing Lux's call.
So for a couple of hours, he waited—and paced—anticipation for the brewing rescue and subsequent destruction starting to simmer in his veins. And wondered what was taking his King so long.
Lux was a perfectly capable Gheyo King, after all, one of a select few Shadow Gheyos trained by the Cunningham Circle who hadn’t chosen to bond once their training was over. His shadows weren’t just for stealth, they’d been trained specifically for tracking and hunting—an invaluable asset in Kaden’s line of work—and like all those trained by the Cunninghams, he’d gained a reputation for ruthlessness and quick work.
It really shouldn’t have been taking this long.
Just when he was about to become truly worried, he felt something cool wrap around his wrist. Kaden glanced down and sighed with relief when he recognized it as a shadow—one of Lux’s at that.
After it settled, it took on a snake-like form and raised its dark head to peer at Kaden.
“You certainly took your time,” the ACE grumbled and rolled his eyes when the shadow-snake bit him. “Whenever you’re ready,” he told the familiar, and readied for the ‘port.
Harry’s life had become a never-ending stream of pain, so much so that he didn’t know how much time had actually passed. Definitely longer than several days, but weeks? Months? Years? That he didn’t know.
He’d been so careful ever since his inheritance had come in a few days after his eighteenth birthday, ever since he learned that he was dragel. More careful than he’d been in his life, given how the Ministry was cracking down on anything Dark after Voldemort’s defeat—and dragels were definitely classified as Dark creatures—and after seeing for himself a dragel skeleton in Britain’s only magical museum.
The books didn’t have much about dragels, just the basics and that their scales and other body parts were valuable potions ingredients. Between that and the museum, Harry had vowed that no one would ever learn what he was.
And he’d done so well, going a couple of years without any incident. But of course the one—one!—time something happened and he slipped up, the wrong persons had been around. He’d been snatched immediately and then subjected to increasing levels of pain until he shifted into halfling form, with scales that had surfaced and wings that had emerged in a desperate attempt to protect his body from the torture.
Once they’d gotten what they desired, his captors had shoved stakes through Harry’s wings to keep them unfurled and spread open and strapped him down to a table with chains and magic to the point where he couldn’t move. Even if he did manage to get free from that by some stroke of luck, there was a cage placed over the table that would prevent him from sitting up or even turning over, that’s how tight it was to the table.
Since then, it had been one form of pain and torture after another. His scales on his body and wings were chiseled off one by one, his claws and fangs cut and removed as soon as they grew back. With needles designed to pierce through dragon scales, his blood was drawn to the point where he was left dizzy, if not unconscious. And that was just the start of all the horrors he was subjected to.
There was a reprieve only every so often because his body had to heal itself. That was when he would get food—not that he could eat it, of course. It was either converted into energy for his body to absorb or spelled directly into his stomach. And when he had to relieve himself, he was forced to go on that damned table and just hope that his captors would be disgusted enough that they vanished the mess.
They weren’t taking any chances with him. He hadn’t been let off of that table or out of the cage since he’d first been kidnapped, no matter how hard he struggled and tried to escape. Even when his body was desperately trying to heal itself, there was always someone in the room watching him. He suspected they remained even while he was unconscious, because there was always someone in the room with him when he woke up.
Even though he couldn’t see most of his body, given that even his head and neck were strapped down and unable to move, Harry knew that it was taking longer and longer for his body to heal each time. And not only was his healing time slower, but his magic was less and less capable of healing at all.
He suspected that there would eventually come a time when his body refused to heal at all and instead, he would slip into Death’s embrace. It probably wasn’t far off now and he was ready to accept that moment when it came.
After that moment in the forest, he knew that death wasn’t something to be feared. And right now, it would be a sweet, everlasting relief from all the pain.
Harry stared blankly at the ceiling, the only view he’d had for who knew how long at this point. It was a view that was steadily growing darker, but that didn’t really make sense, because there were no windows in the room he was being kept in and because he knew he wasn’t on the verge of unconsciousness—yet.
The air in the room grew heavy for a moment and Harry could have sworn he heard a blade being drawn. The next heartbeat, he choked as the pungent scent of blood overwhelmed his sense of smell, something that he hadn’t thought possible given how accustomed his nose had grown to the disgusting scents that already permeated the room.
“Kaden,” a deep, dark voice growled. “Oh, ACE of mine. Time for you to make an appearance.”
Harry jerked at his bindings, startled by the sound. When had a second person entered the room? He hadn’t heard anyone open the door—a sound that he was highly attuned to by now because it usually meant more pain—and the person who had been keeping watch over him was a woman, not a man.
A moment later, a dangerous, dragon-like hiss reverberated around the room.
Harry panicked at the sound, beginning to struggle with all of his remaining strength. Dragon? Dragel? His voice was raw from the screams and cries of pain he inevitably let out whenever he was undergoing his captors’ torture, but he still let out a steady series of chirps, squawks, and growls, trying to warn off the newcomer, warn them that this place was dangerous.
Several gentle croons and growling sounds returned his cries, attempts at soothing, Harry suspected, but he didn’t want to be soothed. He just wanted to ensure that if there was another dragel in the room that they escaped as quickly as they could, because he didn’t know if he could endure knowing that there was someone else like him undergoing the same types of torture.
“Kaden, get him out of here!” the voice growled again. “Now!”
A moment later, there was a screeching noise of metal being ripped apart and Harry blinked as the bars of the cage that were merely inches above his head disappeared. The posts that had been staked through his wings were next, the pain of their removal nearly blinding him, and then the chains and straps that had been restraining him were gone.
A quiet warble slipped out. He was free? It felt like it, though he didn’t have the strength to sit up and check. But his limbs could move, much more so than they’d been able to since this nightmare first begun.
“Oh, my little one,” a second man’s voice murmured in his ear, achingly sad.
Harry cried out in pain as he was carefully picked up from the table, his rescuer uncaring that he was naked and covered in blood and … other things.
“You’re safe now, we’re going somewhere safe where you can heal,” his rescuer said quietly.
“Kaden!”
“You’ve got an hour,” Harry’s rescuer—Kaden?—said as he straightened up, Harry in his arms, securely cradled. “Don’t make me come back here to drag you back personally.”
“Fine,” the other man grumbled. “Your flames—can I?”
“Yes, burn this entire place down,” Kaden growled. “No survivors. I’ll even pay the fines if you accrue any.”
No survivors? Did that include Harry? It didn’t seem to, because he both saw and heard the door opening, then he was being carried out of that hell room.
If the scent of blood had been overwhelming in that room, it was unbearable as they left and entered the larger part of the building he was being kept in. Using the adrenaline starting to flood his body at the thought of escaping and being free, Harry lifted his head and he inhaled sharply at the sight of body after body littering the floor.
Were there more? If the order had been no survivors?
“Deep breath, little one,” Kaden said.
Harry stared blankly at the man for a moment, before he attempted to do as directed.
It didn’t help. He heard two words—“Temptrificus Saurenth”—and saw pillars of flame surrounding them, and promptly passed out as the magic overwhelmed his senses and his weakened body.