Dragon's Slave : The Sequel

Chapter 1

"There's fire in my soul... mm... hmm... oh... I hate you so..." I draw my painted finger on the cave wall. A charcoal smear covers the grey rock. I sing under my breath.

I was pregnant with twins for the most feared Twin Dragons.

Dragon Lords Hael and Lochness.

I am currently in a secluded birthing chamber they locked me in at the 3-month mark. It is when I started to show and others could see. It's also when I started to feel quite... emotional. I was already an emotional storm – now I was crying at everything, absolutely everything.

Chains drag with my ankles, locked to the iron in the walls. I would usually wear a collar for my mates but it has been removed, to keep me comfortable. My skin is kissed by a special soft leather, wrapped around my breasts. A new leather bra. My skirt drops to my ankles and is made of a velvet emerald green material, resting over my small baby bump.

I can move from one end of the chamber to the next. I'm at the far end, as far as the chains will take me. I am kneeling at the cave wall upon which I can paint, sun shines through a gap if I want to get some sunshine along here, although right now it's only the moon that shows above my head.

I remember the mage's words on her first visit to me, she was in charge of my medical care.

" Dragon Lords are fiercely protective of their first babes. Don't judge them for their instinct to hide you away. "

She had tried to reason with me. Said other things I didn't like that I was blocking out.

As far as I was concerned, I was going to be in here until the time came to birth my babies.

Lochness and Hael betrayed me, tricking me into this cell yesterday!

I hadn't realised how free I was roaming around their mountain complex until I was placed in a chamber I could not escape from.

Since I have paint in the bowl, I draw absent mindedly on the wall. Pictures of Lochness' sword length fangs, a giant grin for those he would devour. Hael was already painted, wings outstretched in flight.

I've been humming a song, to ward off my mates.

I'm angry. When am I not?

But even more than anger at being locked away from all my friends and hidden away like their most prized treasure – which I suppose I am – I'm angry at the emotions reaching new turbulent heights.

If my mates were feeling ultra controlling, in a need to protect me?

I was feeling menacingly bratty.

I'm already crying and I don't even know why, I guess it's just the desire to piss them off and I can't because I'm chained away in some isolated part of the Requiem mountains. Completely at their mercy! Completely and utterly! It's also the desire to run and I'm shackled permanently.

All my games had come to an abrupt end.

My tears continue to fall and I use them to add more wetness to the ground up paint, so I can smear dark black charcoal into Lochness' scales.

I can't sing with my throat clogged up. My wet fingers drag down the painting, as moonlight shines down on my face and a light breeze moves down the hole, ruffling my long red hair... the wind swirls around my chamber.

I breathe in the fresh air for only a moment, and then the breeze is gone.

I almost whimper, but I stick to just silently crying, a flood of new tears stream down my face as I droop my head to the wall and I rest my forehead against the cool stone.