Chapter 3

3

C reed

I wade into the stream, which gets to around mid-thigh as I reach the middle. Blood mixes with water and red swirls around me. I dunk down, running my hands over my chest and through my hair. The water is warm, and it feels good to get rid of all the muck and grime caked on my skin. When I resurface, I pull in a deep breath and let out a sigh. My hunt this morning was successful. Which means that I have enough food to last for the next few days.

I'm going to be bored shitless.

I stand and wade from the water, giving a shake to rid myself of the moisture still clinging to me. Water goes spraying everywhere in tiny droplets that catch the sun.

An entire day lies ahead of me. I'm not sure what I'm going to do with it. I sigh again, which irritates me. I'm not like this. I like seeing the best in situations and making the most of my life.

I'm not going to stop now. I'm working on an owl statue. Then there are my plans to get running water to my cabin. I could start on those. I need to get my head out of my ass. There are always things that need doing out here. I think of home. Of the house I built. The house I planned to start a family in. I feel a pang, and my chest tightens. Maybe it's time to go back. Just as quickly as the thought enters my mind, I knock it down.

No!

Just because I can go back doesn't mean that I should. This is my home now. Maybe one day…

I give myself another shake and then head home. That's when I hear it. It's the sound of an approaching helicopter. It's coming from the Draig side of the island, which makes me frown. It's getting louder and louder, which tells me that it's descending quickly. It makes no sense since there is only endless jungle on this side of the island. A chopper would never land here. Besides, flying craft always approach from the other side. Never from Draig Island.

I leap onto a nearby tree and scramble up so that I can get a better idea of what the hell is going on. I spot it immediately. The helicopter whines and veers to the right before righting itself. It's going too fast for that altitude. What are they trying to do? The pilot doesn't seem to have much control. Perhaps there is a problem with the engine. The craft gets lower and lower, slowing down as it does, but not quickly enough. It doesn't take long, and the chopper smashes through the thick canopy; the blades slice through the trees, sending debris flying in all directions. There is a deafening roar of the engine, the shrieking of metal being torn apart, and a loud crunching noise on impact.

My mouth has fallen open. My heart is beating fast beneath my ribs. There could be survivors. I need to get over there and fast. Smoke billows from between the trees, and I catch a whiff of engine fuel as I climb back down the tree, jumping the last eight or ten feet. Then I am running as fast as I can, dodging fallen branches and leaping over thick roots. The helicopter is only a mile away now, the wreckage smoking ominously in the jungle heat. The scent of fire and smoke grows stronger and stronger as I get closer.

I keep going, urging myself to go faster, which is difficult in the dense undergrowth. Despite the difficulties, I cover a lot of ground over the next few minutes. A loud scream tears through the jungle. It's a female. At least one survivor and it is a female. Shit! This is bad. I have to get to her quickly. There are those within this jungle who would harm her. Dragons who have turned feral.

I hear loud footfalls and heavy breathing to the left of me. They're moving away from the crash. There is more screaming; it's coming from the same direction. I run toward the noise. I will the female to keep quiet. Her screams will draw every dragon from their caves and crevices.

Fuck!

I give chase. It doesn't take me long to reach them. A big male I don't recognize has a tiny female slung over his shoulder.

"Mine," he growls as he catches sight of me. He keeps running, altering his direction so that he is moving away from me.

"No," I tell him. "Put her down!" I shout after him, but he keeps going, so I give chase.

"Put me down!" she screams. "What are you doing?" she yells.

I wish she would shut her mouth already.

I'm catching up to him because I don't have the added weight. It isn't long before I'm right on his tail.

The female is screaming again. The noise is cut off as the male throws her off his shoulder. She lands on the ground with a hard thud, silencing her.

I snarl, sounding more like my beast, even though I am still in human form. It's too dense in this part of the forest to even attempt a shift, so I go with a partial shift instead, roaring as I bash into the male. By now, my fingers are clawed. My pupils will have turned slitted. I pop out a few scales and grow taller, wider, much stronger as I land a few punches to his face. One…two…three… Blood sprays as I break his nose.

The male shifts; since he can't manage a partial – he's just too damned feral – he gets tangled in the thick branches and tree trunks. He snarls, ripping one of the trees clean out of the ground. I might be smaller than him in my current state, but I'm far more agile and still strong enough to do damage. I get behind him in less than a second and attack from behind. He tries to get me with his tail, but there are too many trees in the way. He tries to turn, partially ripping out another tree before shifting back into his human form.

Once shifted, it's easy. I knock him out cold in three seconds flat with two well-placed blows to the head. There is a crunching sound. I'm sure I fractured his skull. The male falls hard. He'll be out for a while. Enough time for me to make an escape.

Up above, I hear wing beats and harsh shrieks. There are snarls and crashes in the vegetation. The sounds seem to come from all around us. The feral dragons of Mistveil know that there is a female in their jungle, and they're all coming for her.

I turn to the female, who is still lying in the same spot on the ground. For half a second, I think she's dead. Her face is pale. She's so small. Then I see her chest rise and fall. I feel a possessiveness I have never felt before in my life.

I have to save her.

I remove the backpack, putting it over my shoulder, then I scoop the unconscious female into my arms, cradling her close to my chest. She stirs slightly, a soft moan escaping her lips. I must move quickly before the others get here, drawn by the scent of blood and precious female.

With swift strides, I navigate through the dense jungle, my senses on high alert for any sign of danger. The sounds of wings flapping and enraged roars echo through the trees, urging me to hasten my pace. This is the densest part of the jungle and my home. None of these males know it like I do. The dragons above won't be able to land within a mile and a half of here. The canopy is too thick.

Even in human form, it is tough to navigate. It's why I chose it in the first place; so that I would be left alone. I didn't move to the jungle to mingle with the others. I knew I would be tempted to shift and stay in my dragon form too long. Living in this part of the jungle forces me to stay in my human form for significant amounts of time. Despite living in the jungle for several years, it has kept me sane. I, unlike many of the others, have kept a hold on my humanity.

I run faster as I reach my cabin.

"Sorry," I mutter as I hoist the female over my shoulder.

She moans as I start climbing up the footholds I made especially for times like this – when I'm carrying something. I pray she doesn't wake up. If she fights me now, she could fall. Not to mention how much tougher it will be to keep her hidden. If they know I have her, I won't be able to hold them off.

I keep climbing. For the first time, I grumble to myself as to why I had to build my house so high. It's tough keeping the female in my grip whilst navigating up the wide trunk. This has to be one of the biggest Ceiba trees on the island. I made the footholds to help when carrying carcasses up. She's smaller and will break easily. I wouldn't care if I dropped a carcass. I would care very much if the human fell to her death.

A human.

A female.

I inhale her scent, and, despite the situation, my cock starts to go hard. I grit my teeth and ignore it. It's my baser side. I refuse to be ruled by that side of myself.

When I reach my cabin, I pull the female from my shoulder, pushing her onto the open balcony. It takes me under a second to swing up onto the platform.

I look around, assessing the area. I don't have long before the first males arrive. The deer carcass is hanging right where I left it.

Good! The blood will help mask her scent. I quickly go inside and place her in my fireplace, rolling her and her bag in last night's ashes. Good thing I decided to go hunting before cleaning up. Once she is liberally covered in soot, I dust myself off. Then I rub myself in the blood still dripping from the fresh carcass, getting blood all over myself. It has a strong scent. It should mask the sweet, softer smell of the female nicely. Then I grab my blade and the piece of wood I have been whittling over the last day or two and sit on my porch with my feet up.

It doesn't take long for the first male to arrive.

I know him. His muscles are bulging. He has a smattering of scales on his chest. He growls, sniffing the air, his eyes darting left and right.

"Everything okay, Spike?" I ask, continuing with my whittling. An owl has only just started to emerge from the piece. "Why are you on my land?" I add in a gruff voice.

"Where is she?" he barks, more scales erupting on his chest.

"Where is who?" I ask casually.

He frowns. "Don't act dumb! Didn't you hear the crash? See the smoke? You know something, don't you?"

"Yes, I heard the crash and figured there were no survivors." I keep working. I'm not even looking at the male.

Two more males crash through the undergrowth, rushing to the base of my tree. "Did you see a female run through here?" one of them growls.

"What the fuck? What are you doing here? This is my land! Mine!" I snarl. "I don't like visitors." I put the carving down and stand, glaring at them.

"Didn't you hear her screaming?" Spike asks. "Surely you must know about the female."

"No." I shake my head. "I heard the crash." I shrug. "There is no female here." I look around and shrug.

Another male bashes through the undergrowth. This is getting too much.

I snarl, jumping from the tree and landing in a crouch on the ground below, just feet in front of them. "You were not invited." My voice turns deep and rough as I partially shift, keeping my eyes on them.

"The female—" one of the males starts to say.

"Isn't here," I snarl. "Do you see a female?" I look around me.

All of them look up at my cabin. I'm tempted to roar at them, but I don't. I need to keep myself under control. It's fine to be testy, but if I go at them too hard, they will know I'm protecting something. There are too many of them to fight off, with more in the immediate area. I would be overrun, and the female would be taken.

"She could be up there." Spike points.

I chuckle. It comes out sounding like a threat. Good!

"If I had a female in my cabin, you would hear her…smell her." I pray that she keeps her mouth firmly shut. If she wakes up and so much as fucking twitches, she's dead. It won't be an easy death.