11. Kara

It feels as if I've lost who I am.

I know better than to rely on anyone or to even expect them to stay around. All of my life I've known that no one is forever. But ever since Drago's taken me, I'm at war with that very truth. I find myself relaxing, feeling as though I no longer need to fight, yet at the same time, I'm waiting for the other foot to drop. I already know what's to come though, no matter how much I wish it weren't true.

This is nothing more than a game to him. He's said as much himself. I'm a pet. And maybe he'll offer me enough money to survive on my own and safety as a reward when he's done with me. Enough to be taken care of. But either way, he will be done with me at some point and then what will I be left with? This bleeding heart of mine that should have known better.

It takes a moment for my heart to feel full again. I feel pathetic. I practically told him I loved him yesterday. I gave myself to him. As a faint rainfall taps at the glass pane windows, I turn my attention to it and remember last night. Pulling the covers in close, I know all too well I'd do it again. I don't regret it in the least. Running my fingers through my hair and inhaling the sweet floral scents of the oils, I know the same is true for this morning. I've never felt so full and so complete. I loved everything that happened last night in this bed.

That's the fault of it all though, isn't it? I'm falling hard for him because no one has ever touched me like that. No one has ever wanted me and I've damn sure never wanted another soul. There's a faint sound beyond the closed bathroom door and my heart pauses, waiting for the door to open. Yet it doesn't. It's quiet yet again as I sit alone on his bed.

Once again that feeling overwhelms me. The one that scolds me for being so pathetic. I want to bow at his feet. Fuck, if he told me to kiss his feet I would. I'd do anything he told me to. But I don't know why.

How does he have me wrapped around his little finger like that? I've never been this way. I've never opened myself up like this. I never wanted to, either. But he forced it out of me. Logically, I know he treats me better than anyone else ever has. He gives me more than I ever thought I would have. How could I not fall for him when he cares for me as he does?

Not to mention he's handsome, powerful, and radiates a sex appeal like I have never known. He's practically a god among mortals. More so than any supernatural I've ever met. Even compared to his brothers, the air seems to bend around him. That doesn't make keeping my guard up easy. The bathroom door opens, and he beckons me with a simple "come."

My body instantly obeys and that warmth flows deep within my belly.

Pet. Nothing but a pet,my inner voice hisses, and yet it does nothing to slow my pace to meet him in front of the sink. "Turn," he commands me, adding a twirl of his finger, and I do as he says. I stare back at him in the mirror. Both of us completely bared to one another, but only one of us holding any power at all. It's quiet and I search his expression for any hint at all as to what he has planned for me, but he gives nothing away. As if reading my mind he informs me, "I want to pamper you and make sure you're presentable."

He brushes my hair and barely touches me as he does. "Nearly done," he tells me, and I already miss him caring for me like this.

All the while, my heart patters wildly and I close my eyes to focus on calming it. He must know what he does to me. I imagine he enjoys it.

He tells me to go relax on the bed while he readies himself and I do.

He tells me to come to him and I do.

If he told me to get on my knees right now, I would. What is wrong with me?

I open my eyes and stare into his heated gaze. I know he's still hard and I want nothing more than to feel him inside me once again. I crave that ache between my thighs to come back with a vengeance. But I already begged for his touch once. I promise myself I'll hold out this time. I clench my thighs as he pulls me closer to him, motions, and walks me back into the bedchambers.

His hand grips my hip, skin against skin, and his touch is fire to my blood. My breathing is ragged, my head is cloudy with lust, and my thoughts run wild with what he'll do to me next time I'm vulnerable beneath him.

He stops me just shy of the bed, him to my back, and I stare at the clothes with disbelief. Tears prick at my eyes as I stare at the most luxurious clothes I've ever seen. "For you, my treasure," he murmurs in my ear and his warm breath tickles down my shoulder. When he releases me, I walk hesitantly closer and trail my fingers along the silk negligees and chiffon dresses. My bottom lip drops and I don't have the ability to close my mouth. They're gorgeous. With that thought, I stare back at him as if it's a cruel joke.

"All for you," he tells me with a look of sincerity, and I can barely swallow. I pick up a few cotton blouses and hold them against me. I've never had nice clothes. I look at the jewelry in black velvet boxes sitting to the right.

With emotions overwhelming me, I question, "Why are you doing this?" I just don't understand. For a split second a semblance of who I am returns and I'm terrified of all of this. I would rather it be over so I can pick myself up off the floor once he's done with me.

"I don't want these." My voice cracks and I fucking hate that it betrays the fa?ade I'm aiming for.

His thick brow knits and his eyes narrow slightly, as if confused or disappointed, I'm not sure which. His tone though is logical and one of reason. "You have nothing to wear. You will wear them."

"I do not want to be bought and paid for with pretty things I do not need."

He looks at me bewildered before closing the distance between us, taking my hand in his, and kissing the back of it. It calms both of us. He takes a deep breath and speaks evenly to me. "You need clothing. Whether you like that or not. I simply bought you what I like. If there's nothing here that you like, we'll take it back and get you something else."

I search his eyes for something that makes this seem okay. But I find nothing. A hard lump grows in my throat. I turn to look at what he's bought me. These expensive clothes make me feel cheap. I wish I could just be happy and enjoy this, but now I'm second guessing everything. If only he'd give me a straight answer. None of this feels right and that nagging feeling that all I'm doing is setting myself up to be hurt returns full force.

"Kara?" My name on his lips sounds more like a plea and I face him, feeling raw and torn. His eyes darken with a deep primitive need as he takes one more step closer to me. My Dom. The shifter I'm afraid to love. The dragon I know is going to burn me.

"Yes?" I dare to whisper.

"I want you to wear these. I want you to look beautiful for me. Will you wear them to make me happy?" he asks carefully, staring deep into my gaze. That power he has over me floods my very being. I feel myself giving in; after all, I haven't much of a choice. Not when I can so easily compare what he's capable of to what a mere human like myself can do.

"I'll wear them for you, Sir," I answer.

"Good girl." He reaches across me to pick up something off the bed. "Especially this." He lifts my hair off my shoulders, and his heated touch sends a shiver of want through me. With my eyes closed, I allow him to do whatever he'd like. I hear a click and look down, but I can't see anything. I can feel a weight on my neck, but I'm not sure what it is. It's obviously a necklace…or collar as he called it. As he rounds to stand in front of me, my eyes open and I find him staring at the collar with a wicked twinkle in his eyes. My fingers itch to touch it, so I do. It's a heart, a little larger than the size of my thumb and on a surprisingly thin chain. "It's perfect."

"What does it say?" I ask as I feel the engraving but I'm unable to read it since it sits at the dip in my collar.

"That you're mine." The way his hard, sensual voice says those words makes me clench my thighs yet again. If nothing else, what happens between us will leave me ruined for all other men. He already has me. He's already won. Any fight would be a losing battle.

Not waiting for a response from me, Drago examines a large silver tray that was brought in earlier.

The colorful array of fresh fruits is paired with cured meats and cheeses. There's enough food on the large tray for a small village. On cue, my empty stomach growls and I'm surprised how hungry I am given I just ate last night.

I near the tray as Drago busies himself with arranging some of the food onto a small dish. There are dozens of eggs all still in their shell on a plate under a glass dome. Two silver cups and bone spoons sit next to the eggs. I assume that means the eggs have been boiled. Next to that is a heaping pile of meat slices. My eyes travel behind the meat and eggs to a melon that's been cut in half and each half filled with berries.

"Seven-minute eggs. I think you'll enjoy them." He quickly clears the clothes from the end of the bed and puts them in a pile on top of the dresser. "I'll have them put them away for you."

I shake my head and furrow my brows. "No." His dark eyes reach mine slowly. My breath hitches. Is this the first time I've told him no? I breathe in deep and stand my ground. I enjoy being his pet. I love how he commands me. But I don't want someone doing these things for me. Sneaking in and out of the room to provide for me in ways I'm capable. I square my shoulders and prepare to defend myself, but before I get a word out, he speaks.

"All right," he states easily enough, bringing the tray to the bed and not seeming to notice the battle warring inside of me at all. He adds without sparing me a glance, "Let me know if there's anything you don't want." Then he motions for me to sit at the top of the bed by the pillows. It's only then that I realize someone has already made the bed. It makes me feel uneasy. "I'll have Sage come as well and show you the shops around the village."

A pit settles in my stomach. "I'm not sure I'd like that."

Drago glances at me with what I think is confusion and then begins setting up a plate for me. He can do these things for me. I like that. But others that I don't even know—it just feels wrong.

"Kara," he starts with a firm voice. "There are things you're going to have to get used to. What would make the transition easiest for you?" There's no compromise in his voice and he looks back at me expectantly.

A beat passes and then another of me standing at the end of the bed and him waiting for me to obey. To give in. To do as he says and be his perfect little pet. "I'm not sure anything would make having strangers wait on me any easier. I don't feel?—"

"Would you like it if you knew them better so they weren't strangers?" he questions, interrupting me. His patience is infuriating.

My tone is a little harder. "I'd like it if I could just do these things myself."

His tone remains even as he answers, "I will consider it. As far as going into town, you'll be doing that. I need for you to get used to your surroundings. I've been told the best way for a woman to do that is to shop with other women." His words hit me in a weak spot of insecurity. I wonder how many women have done this. My cheeks flame. How many are still in this castle? Drago interrupts my thoughts with a question. "What's got you so upset?"

Everything in me is telling me to hide my insecurity, to leave this issue alone, yet my mouth opens and the words fall out. With my hands trembling, I dare to question, "How many women have you made your pet?" Anxious heat flows through my body as he motions for me to sit once again.

"Come and we can talk about these things over food."

"I'm not sure I'm hungry," I tell him and in that moment my body betrays me. My stomach growls and I'm instantly embarrassed. "Sit," he commands me, and I decide to obey, forcing myself to sit at the head of the bed with him.

He passes the plate to me and tells me to eat. I obey, opting for a tart raspberry as I stare at him and wait for his response. It's delicious. Of course it is. Everything is divine here and none of this is truly meant for me.

Drago inhales deeply as he cuts up the meat on his plate. Finally he offers a response, "I'm much older than you treasure, and I doubt you'd like the answer."

That's an acceptable answer, I suppose. But I continue my questioning, "How many that still live here?"

His brow arches as he pauses his cutting to question me, "Is that what you're worried about?"

"Yes," I answer without taking a single breath. "I want to know."

His voice softens and he leans down to kiss my cheek. "None. It's been a very long time since I've wanted a woman."

The relief is notable at simply knowing there isn't anyone else. I allow that information to sink in.

My brow furrows with curiosity, "Men?"

He smirks at me. "No. No one, for a very long time."

"So, there's only me."

He nods, adding, "It is only us." His words do something to me I can't describe.

"Tea?" He offers a cup to me I hadn't seen, and I gratefully take it.

"Thank you."

The silence between us is easy as we both eat. Just like last night, everything is delicious. I watch as he taps the bone spoon against the shell and eats his egg. And then another and another. It'll take him all damn day to eat breakfast the way he is.

"Do you usually have all this for breakfast?" I can't imagine he gets a thing done if he does.

"Usually a mountain of red meat. I like steak. A lot of steak. All day." I have to laugh at his straightforward admission.

"Then why all this?" I gesture to the tray and our plates.

He peers at me with a look in his eyes as if I should know. "I wanted you to have a nice breakfast." I swallow down the sip of hot tea and smile back at him. All of those emotions going back and forth settle down if for no other reason than that I'm grateful.

Just as the fluttering in my chest picks up again and threatens to have me overthinking everything, a knock at the door interrupts us. My eyes widen as I realize I'm not at all decent.

"One minute." Drago calls out with a deep baritone voice. He moves quickly from the bed to the pile of clothes and pulls out a light blush nightie that seems to be made of tiny pieces sewn together like petals of a flower. It's nicer than any dress I've ever worn.

"Wear this," he tells me, handing me the delicate clothing, and I'm taken aback by how soft it is. It's luxurious for a simple night gown. It slips on easily enough, loose yet hugs my curves in a way that's elegant, and stops just above my knees in the front yet longer in the back. I'm so enthralled with the gown, I'm caught off guard when Drago opens the door.

One of his brothers walks in and it takes me a moment to know that it's Galen. I remember that Cyrus has a small scar on his chin. It's uncanny how alike the brothers look. I glance between Galen and Drago and grin at the telltale differences between them. Galen has a slightly sharper chin. Good. I won't confuse them all now. That will put an end to me thinking every dragon is Drago.

"Galen." Drago is short with his brother and seems uneasy with him being here. He opened the door, but he stands in between Galen and me, as though he's protecting me. The smile falls from my face. I hesitantly move to the back of the bed. For some reason it's become my safe spot. An uneasiness creeps through me. I'm reminded of Victor, of talk of war. A sickness threatens to rise up my throat.

Galen puts his hands up, palms out. "I only came to apologize."

"Apology accepted. You can go now." Galen flinches, appearing hurt by Drago's curt response.

Drago shifts his weight and sighs. "My dragon is still on edge."

"I understand. I'd like to apologize to your…"

"Kara," Drago cuts him off.

"To your Kara," Galen finishes, although he's yet to look at me. He speaks only to Drago. "I didn't mean to frighten her or get your dragon riled up. I didn't know she was in heat." He says the last line with a bit of an admonishment, and it takes a moment for me to even register his words. Heat. He scents the air deeply and adds, "Besides, her heat is gone now, your dragon should be fine."

I look at them both in confusion and ask, "Heat?" A prickle of nervousness runs through me. Heat is for werewolves. Heat is for breeding. Humans do not do such things.

My heart races as Galen's wide eyes meet mine. I can't meet his gaze so instead I stare at the sheets. Right beneath me, Drago took me last night. My breath comes in shorter pants.

Heat. The realization is slow to come over me and panic sweeps in as the puzzle pieces fall into place.

That's why he fucked me. That's why he's keeping me.

To breed me. It's why he's nice to me. I knew it was too good to be true. Betrayal sweeps over me as my throat closes tightly while Drago and his brother have a heated and hushed discussion.

Tears prick my eyes as I recall so many conversations centered around dragons. I remember them talking about Isabella only days ago. I remember what the sorcerer said about their need for heirs.

Drago only wants young. He just wants to breed me. I look up at Drago with tears in my eyes. That's why he can't tell me how long he wants me to stay. My heart falls into the bottom of my stomach and shatters. I scoot off the bed rather unladylike and ignore Drago as he calls after me. I slam the door to the bathroom with trembling hands and try to lock it, but there's no fucking lock.

Somehow I hear Galen leave after a few shouted words from Drago as I pace the small area in front of the vanity. Drago walks in with an air of dominance, but I look straight back at him without displaying the very real fear I feel. My gut churns and my body chills with a cold sweat.

"You lied to me." The words erupt from my lips with malice. I can hardly hear anything over the sound of my heart trying to beat out of my chest. Heat. That's why I'm not myself. It wasn't a spell. It's something unnatural that's taken hold of me. It must be. I'm only human. We don't "heat." As questions pile up, so does the agony of knowing I was being used.

"You don't understand, treasure." I fucking hate that he's using my pet name right now.

"Don't you dare call me that," I scream at him. He blanches at my anger, but I don't give a shit if I've surprised him. If I'm not being a good pet. "You didn't just want to fuck me. You wanted to breed me!"

"No, my dragon was attracted to you before I scented you." He puts both his hands up as if in surrender, but as he takes a step toward me, I take a step back. He's far too close, too powerful, too on edge, and my heart won't stop racing. My legs bump into the seat at the vanity with an unfortunate step back. I fall and land hard on my ass and try to brace my myself. I'm not as successful as I'd like. I wince from the pain and grab my wrist. That fucking hurt.

Before I know it, he's on his knees next to me holding my wrist in his hands. His scent engulfs me as does his warm touch and I hate it. I snatch my wrist away.

"Don't fucking touch me." I'm barely able to speak through clenched teeth. "You don't get to touch me anymore."

He takes a sharp inhale and looks deep into my eyes. I don't drop his gaze. I hope he knows how fucked this is. I can't believe I fell for him. My heart sinks deep down and twists into a painful knot. Tears leak down my face, but I don't break eye contact. I won't do it. His hand comes out, I assume to wipe my tears, but I shove him away. "Leave me alone!"

"Treasure." I shoot daggers at him for daring to call me that.

I practically spit the word in his face, "Red." I ignore the hurt in his eyes.

"Kara," he attempts to placate me with a warning tone.

"I'm such a fucking idiot. I should've left when I had the chance." I swallow thickly, resolving myself. "I want to leave."

"You may be pregnant." His simple statement is his answer.

"I didn't ask for this," I say and bite back the tears.

"You begged for it."

"Fuck you!" That fucking prick! How fucking dare he throw that in my face. I wanted him because I fucking loved him! Him! Because I was stupid to think he loved me too. This heat, this spell between us, whatever this is, it has a grip on me I could never fight. I was foolish enough to accept his kindness thinking all he wanted in return was me. I swallow the spiked lump growing in my throat.

"I didn't mean it like that. I'm sorry, Kara." He has the audacity to sound sorrowful as I sit hunched over in his bathroom.

I close my eyes and shake my head, hating how badly it hurts. I can't talk to him. "Leave me alone." I can't even look at him right now.

"I'll know soon if you're pregnant." His voice is hard, but there's a trace of sadness. "You'll stay till then." Tears free-fall down my face as my body shakes with sadness.

Then I'll leave.My body goes numb, and I listen as his heavy steps lead him away from me.

Only after the door is shut, I bury my face into my hands and cry. My shoulders shake and tremble and then I regain my composure. He slams the bedroom door loud enough for me to know he's gone.

I don't want him to come back and find me like this. And I can't lock the damn door. My eyes widen with realization. I can't lock this door. I get to my feet and run to the bedchamber's door. It's already shut so I quickly shove the key in and turn, just the way he did last night.

I lock him out. If he won't let me leave, then he certainly cannot stay. I may not have anything else in this life. But at least I'll have one moment to put distance between us and cry in peace. I crawl into Drago's bed and pull the cover over my head as the reality sinks in. I was nothing more than a pawn to him. Why does it hurt so much though? I have loved and lost before, better people than Drago. Longer relationships than this. Hurting all over and unable to think straight, I let exhaustion and sadness take me to sleep hoping when I wake up, it will all have been a horrible dream.