Chapter 14

CHAPTER14

The pain he’d felt when Larkin had left him did not compare to the rage coursing through him now, seeing his treasure bound like a common criminal, defiled by every bit of filth that infested this city.

The filth was running away now, shouting “Dragon!” and screaming, terrified of him when they’d all pretended to be so big before.

They dared to touch Larkin.

Jade swooped down and snapped his jaws around one fleeing man, satisfied by the loud, wet crunch, and how the man’s screams turned into disgusting gurgles in Jade’s throat.

He wanted to devour every last person who’d hurt Larkin, but he knew, more important than his own rage, was Larkin’s safety.

After swiping his claws at a few guards that blubbered at him while holding up their swords, Jade settled in the square next to Larkin. It took no effort at all to remove the wooden slat that held Larkin in place.

Jade had his talons ready to catch Larkin as he slid out of the pillory. Blood trickled onto Jade’s scales, and the rage burned brighter.

He’d destroy this city, too. He would destroy every last human settlement if that was what it took to keep Larkin safe.

Larkin clung to his talon, unable to hold himself up on his own, and his tears streamed down his face as he wept. He opened his mouth, but only a pitiful whine came out, one which broke Jade’s heart.

But he saw the problem too, a foul, pulsing tendril of magic wrapped around Larkin’s throat. He gently blew air—and magic of his own—at Larkin, until the foreign magic went up in sparks.

“There, the spell is gone,” Jade said, angry at himself for not having noticed immediately.

“You came,” Larkin said hoarsely. “Jade… I am so sorry. I should’ve listened to you.” The words were slurred, difficult to understand, but Jade caught each one.

“Hush, my treasure,” Jade said.

By then, the guards had gathered their wits and gone for longer weapons, spears that bounced easily off of Jade’s scales. The arrows, though… those stung a bit as they pierced him, and he snarled. He turned his head, breathing out a stream of fire over the archers, reveling in their screams as their hair burst into flame, as their skin and flesh melted off them to expose the bone underneath.

“W-wait,” Larkin said weakly. “Don’t… don’t hurt…”

The smell of burning flesh filled the air. “I will raze the entire city,” Jade promised Larkin, lifting his treasure up to eye-level. “You will be avenged.”

Larkin’s tears got worse. “No. Jade, please. I just want to go.”

Shame pierced Jade. Of course. He’d been selfishly focusing on his own rage, when his treasure was suffering.

More guards were on the way, and something with an abundance of magic, too. Jade could easily fight them all off, but would he be able to protect Larkin at the same time? The risk of a stray arrow catching Larkin instead of Jade was too great.

With one last blast of flame at the city, Jade launched himself into the air. He clutched Larkin close to his chest, careful to keep his sharp claws from scratching his treasure.

His first instinct was to take Larkin back to his den, but he could already feel Larkin fading, and the stench of blood kept getting stronger and stronger. If he attempted to fly faster, he would be risking harming Larkin, though.

Jade scanned the countryside below, trying to find a suitable place to land and nurse Larkin. He followed the river, blanketed by thick, impenetrable forest on either side, until he spotted a small clearing… and even a cabin of some sort. There was no light or movement that Jade could discern. It must have been abandoned.

If it wasn’t… well, Jade would simply make it abandoned.

“Hold on, just a little longer,” Jade said to Larkin as he began his descent. The clearing was smaller than he’d anticipated, and blanketed by thick, tall grass. At least it offered a soft landing, even if it wasn’t ideal for a human—particularly an injured human—to walk in.

Larkin wasn’t making any sounds.

Jade swiped at the brush to cut a path toward the cabin.

Walking with only three legs was difficult in his dragon form, but he refused to put Larkin down. Holding him, he could still sense some of Larkin’s warmth.

If Jade let go of Larkin, Larkin might…

A problem presented itself when he reached the cabin though. His dragon form would never fit inside.

Although he’d done what he could to remove the brush, laying down with those open wounds would be beyond painful, and at risk of getting more dirt and grime in them.

“Larkin,” Jade said, sounding pitiful. “Larkin, you have to wake up. You have to stand.” He rubbed his snout gently against Larkin’s head.

Larkin didn’t respond.

It only filled Jade with more alarm, and he lifted his head to get a better look at Larkin. It was something of a mistake, because seeing Larkin’s flayed back, smelling cum and urine on him, seeing him unconscious… It only made him that much more desperate, so desperate it overrode his rage—for now.

“Larkin!” Jade said again, and there was that strange moisture in his eyes. “My treasure, you must wake up so I can get you inside and care for you. Please.”

Citrine had been right, which would’ve been annoying in any other circumstance but this. He never should’ve accepted Larkin’s answer. He should’ve followed immediately to ensure no harm came to his gem.

Again he nudged Larkin’s head with his snout, and this time, the human stirred. Not much, just a little, only enough for him to open his tear-swollen eyes.

“J-Jade. Thought I dreamed you,” Larkin slurred. His eyes wouldn’t quite focus on Jade, and they started to flutter closed again.

“Please.” Jade lowered Larkin until his dangling feet touched the ground. “There’s a door right there. Please go inside. Or simply stand while I transform, and I will carry you.”

“Stand?” Larkin repeated. His eyes opened again, blurred with tears. “I don’t… I don’t know if I can.” The words were halting, like each of them was difficult to utter. But he seemed to rally, at least a little, and he whispered, “Set me closer… to the house. Let me lean on it. Please.”

Jade brought Larkin to the wall. His heart broke as he watched Larkin struggle to stay on his feet, but he did manage it. More blood oozed down his back, between his thighs.

Jade had to swallow the rage and pain once more as he forced himself back to his human form. It was harder, this time, because he wanted to stay large and strong and destroy everything in his sight. But he had to do this, for Larkin’s sake.

Once he was mostly in human shape—his tail hadn’t even fully receded yet—he reached for Larkin. It was impossible to touch his treasure without rubbing against an open wound, though, and Larkin whimpered in pain.

“I’m sorry.” Jade bumped his forehead against Larkin’s. “Please. Let’s get inside. I will clean your wounds. I’m not much of a healer, but I can make the worst of it go away.”

Larkin bit his bottom lip, visibly fighting back the pain despite his deathly pale face and the way he could barely even stand. “I don’t want to die, Jade,” he croaked out. “I’m…” He seemed like he was going to go on, but Jade hushed him.

“Inside,” Jade said more firmly. “You aren’t going to die.”

Jade wouldn’t let him. He wouldn’t let his treasure be taken from him again, not then, not ever.

Larkin took a stumbling step forward, and Jade grabbed both of his arms to keep him from falling over.

“There, good,” Jade coaxed. “Just get inside, and you can lie down, and I’ll heal you.”

He had to hope there was a bed, or at least a couch. Blankets, things to clean Larkin with.

It was a simple one-room cabin, probably a hunter’s temporary lodge. Judging by the dust and spiderwebs, it hadn’t been used in a while. A mouse scurried away when they entered.

The single bed in the corner looked less comfortable than even the stone floor of Jade’s cave, but it was better than having Larkin directly on the ground. Jade guided Larkin to it, helping him lie down on his stomach.

Larkin groaned in pain, but his eyes closed almost immediately, and his body went slack.

Was it better to allow him to rest? Or did Jade need to keep Larkin awake, to be sure he didn’t simply pass away in his sleep? Jade had never tended to a human—or other living creature—before.

Jade ran his hand through Larkin’s hair, and Larkin immediately flinched.

“I’m sorry, my treasure,” Jade said. “Please, stay awake. I will start a fire and fetch water.” He wanted to cast magic to close the wounds, but with how grimy Larkin was, he was afraid of causing infection. Jade didn’t trust his magic to do more than mend flesh.

Something he would need to look into in the future. He should have read up on the care of humans as soon as he’d decided to keep Larkin.

Jade reluctantly let go of Larkin to assess what supplies the cabin had. A chest at the foot of the bed revealed a single, moth-eaten blanket. He tied it around his neck with a quick knot and searched more, discovering a rusty bucket sitting beside the fireplace. No wood in the fireplace, but Jade remembered there’d been a stack of it outside.

First he ran out to collect the firewood and kindling. His flames easily set them ablaze, and the small cabin warmed almost instantly.

Larkin groaned, shifting a little.

“I’m sorry,” Jade said. “Please hold on for just a little while longer.”

Then he took the rusty bucket and rushed to the river. He tossed the blanket into the river for a quick rinse, using his magic to dry it, and filled the bucket to the brim.

He had to boil the water first, didn’t he? To make sure it was entirely clean. And the blanket… he ripped a corner of it off so he could use it as a rag to wash Larkin.

Good thing he was a dragon. He returned to the cabin and set the bucket down next to the bed. With another huff of magic, the water inside the bucket came to a boil. He dunked the small rag into the water, waited just long enough for the rag to cool a little, then began the process of washing Larkin’s back.

The first brush of rag on skin made Larkin’s body jerk, and he let out a small, hoarse but agonized scream.

Jade paused for a moment, what he knew to be tears falling from his own eyes, but he blinked them away to focus on Larkin.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Jade told him. “I’m going to take care of you. As soon as you’re clean, I can heal you. Just hold on a little longer for me, my treasure.”

Larkin’s head moved in a semblance of a nod, so small that Jade wasn’t even sure he’d seen it. But he took it as a good sign and dipped the rag again, making sure it was cool enough to clean the wounds without burning Larkin.

He worked agonizingly slowly, murmuring reassurances as he wiped away blood, urine, and dirt. Some of the wounds had jagged edges, reminiscent of a whip with barbs on it.

Larkin sobbed when Jade brought the rag between his thighs. Even his hole was scarred up, and there was an open cut on his balls—the whip having landed there, or a particularly sharp set of nails.

Jade would pay back every single wound twenty-fold.

Finally, after having to empty the bucket and refill it two times, Larkin was as clean as Jade could reasonably get him.

“This will… this will hurt a little,” Jade said, his own voice ragged. “I’m sorry for it, my treasure. But it’s necessary.”

Larkin let out a little whimper, but his human, who had been so brave, only gave a small nod again. His hands balled up at his sides, and he pushed his face into the bed as he prepared himself for what came next.

Jade set his hand on a small patch of unblemished skin and poured a little bit of magic into Larkin.

Larkin screamed, the sound breaking Jade’s heart.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Jade repeated, trying to direct the magic to where it needed to go. He knew how it worked with dragons, how his own magic would seek out wounds and knit them back together, but a human wasn’t inherently magic. A human’s body wasn’t meant to be put back together so quickly.

Jade watched as the wounds pushed themselves closed, scabbed and scarred over. If Jade kept going, he would be able to remove even a hint of anything ever having happened. He could return his treasure to the pristine state he’d found it in.

Larkin’s sobs got louder.

Jade pulled his hand away.

Larkin’s body immediately relaxed once the magical flow stopped coursing through him, and he was no longer shaking so badly. He would need lots of water, lots of food, to replace what had been taken from him, but Jade could take care of him here.

With some difficulty, Larkin managed to lift his head and look up at Jade. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you. I’m sorry I left,” he said in a rush, his voice cracking, though it was like he’d been waiting an eternity to say those words. “I’m sorry I’m so stupid and naive.”

Jade bent down to press his forehead against Larkin’s. “This isn’t your fault. I should have taken you seriously. I shouldn’t have dismissed your thoughts, your worries. If I’d been with you… If I’d simply chased after you…”

Larkin closed his eyes, tears streaming down his face again. “It is my fault,” he said quietly. “I didn’t think Elric was… I guess I never realized what he was truly like. Our mother saw it, though. She… wanted me to take the crown. And… I’m pretty sure her death was no accident.”

“I’m so sorry, my jewel. I know you cared for her. For your brother, even.” Jade ran his knuckles over Larkin’s cheek. “Rest for now. I’ll watch over you. I’ll never let anything like this happen ever again.”

But it wasn’t the first time, was it? This had happened before on Jade’s watch, when he’d left Larkin bound and alone. The guilt ate at Jade. He had no right to care for Larkin, when he was doing such a bad job of protecting his treasure.

Larkin swallowed hard. “I don’t… I don’t want to sleep. I don’t… I’m scared of what I’ll see. I want…” A shudder ran through him, and he lifted his head a little more. “I want to forget. Help me forget, Jade. Please.”