I watch, confused, as the female collapses against the wall and sits down. She closes her eyes and sighs heavily. She looks exhausted by that simple movement.

I do not understand.

I want to go and nose her again, to demand that she wake up and speak some more. I do not grasp her words, but I like the sound of her voice and the babbles she makes. More than anything, I just want to hear her speak, to see her face move as she talks, to see her strange dark eyes fix on my face.

I want her to look me in the eye and challenge me. I want her to change to her battle form so that I can accept her challenge and make her my mate. Every hour that she is out here is another hour that she is vulnerable to being snatched by another male, hungry for a mate.

Just the thought makes me growl in frustration. This human is mine. I want no other.

At the sound of my growl, the air changes, and I can feel the fear-scent rolling off her again. Frustrated, I retreat a few steps to give her space. I do not know what I am doing wrong. Did Kael not get his mate to challenge him? They are mated, so she must have. His scent is all over her, his fire in her blood. I want this human to accept me as hers. But to do so, she must begin the mating process.

I study her, waiting to see if she shows any outward signs of changing forms. There is no reddish mating flush to her pale skin. In fact, if anything, she looks less healthy than before. No scales are in sight, either, nor a hint of wing. There is nothing to encourage a mating.

I don’t know what to do. Never have I encountered a female that did not challenge a male unless she was a fledgling…or already mated. I scan the female again. She is not underage, I do not think. Her body smells like that of a mature female. Nor do I scent another on her.

Kill her, the ravens whisper in my ears. She is no use to you. Destroy her.

I shake my head to silence them. I want this female. She is mine. Perhaps…perhaps it is I who is not giving the correct signals. Perhaps I am doing something wrong.

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But what? My mind is muddy from years of violence and rage, and my memories are full of vultures. I cannot pick through them without encouraging my tormentors forward. Only my female keeps me sane. There has to be an answer.

Maybe…maybe humans think differently than drakoni. Maybe I am the one doing something wrong.

Lies.

I snap at the raven before it can say more, chasing it off. If my female’s signals are different, I need to learn them. But how? I think of Kael and his human female, but they are happily mated. I will not know how to recognize a courting signal in one that is already claimed. I need to see other humans.

I must go back to the human hive.

I rise to my feet and give my wings a satisfied flick. Of course. That makes sense. There are many female humans there. I can observe them and see what signals they give to males. Once I recognize it, I will know what to look for in my female. I reach out to her mind, to try to let her know where I am going, but there is no answer. Her thoughts are closed to me.

Not for long, though.

Once I mate her, she will hold nothing back from me. The thought is a satisfying one—of claiming my female’s body as well as her mind. I like this very much.

You will leave her? They laugh furiously at the thought. You are a fool. She will get snatched by another.

No, leave her, adds another. Leave her behind and get yourself a new mate at the human hive.

Leave her? they laugh at the thought.

Leave her! they demand, whispering insidiously in my ear.

I am torn. I cannot claim her as she is, but if I do not figure out how humans act, will I ever be able to claim her? But abandoning her is not the answer, no more than anything else. She is mine. It does not matter that I have not mated her yet. She belongs to me and only me. I contemplate bringing her with me to the human hive, but they carry fire spitters. The spitters do nothing to a drakoni’s thick hide, but my human is soft and fragile and already wounded due to my clumsiness. I will not put her in more danger.

Then…what? Someone will scent her, and if I am not here to guard her, they will claim her…

Scent her…

Through the incessant chattering of ravens in my head, I try to think. I need something to cover her scent. To put a male drakoni off, to confuse him so he does not realize she is there. The human hive stinks of waste, but I cannot go there and come back quickly enough to satisfy my protective instincts.

I need something to block her sweet scent. Something that smells terrible and pungent and that other drakoni will avoid.

And a moment later, I know just the thing. I plunge to the ledge, flinging myself out of the strange square nest I have claimed for myself, and swoop to the ground below. There, at the edge of the nearest waters, is a half-rotted corpse of a beast with horns and hooves. It has been there for several days, long enough for it to bloat and for the flies to set in. The stench of it is strong enough that it carries for a distance on the wind, and so I carefully scoop it into my claws and fly it back to my nest.

I can smell her lovely scent before I arrive, and not even the stink of the rotten creature in my claws is enough to stop the growl of need that rises in my throat. When I approach the ledge, I see that she has gotten to her feet and is wandering close to it as well. The sight of me returning makes her scramble backward, her eyes wide with fear.

The female says something, hugging her arms close to her chest. I do not understand her words, but surely she will know that I am doing this to protect her? I drop the dead meat at the edge of the ledge so the putrid scent of it can carry onto the winds and cover her lighter smell.

She makes a little cry, raising a hand to her nose and backing to the far side of the room. This, I am pleased with. Perhaps she does understand what I am doing, then. I bugle a call of affirmation to her. I want to grab her in my claws and bury my snout in her hair, but I dare not. I must go and watch the other humans at the hive so I know how to court mine. Every moment I waste is another moment that a male could rise to challenge me for her. I devour my precious female with my eyes, memorizing her slight form, and then reluctantly turn away, launching myself back into the skies.

I circle the large stone building that my nest sits atop of, but there is still the faint, delicate scent of my female in the air. I need more distraction. Frustrated, I return up to my nest, and flame, setting the rotten corpse on fire. A horrible stink wafts into the air, and the female makes another cry as I take to the breeze again. This time, when I circle the building, there is nothing but the smell of rotten flesh and char.




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