Dragon Scales Read online

  Table of Contents

  Dragon Scales

  Book Details

  Dedication

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  About the Author

  DRAGON

  SCALES

  SASHA L. MILLER

  Amantea is in need of a dragon. If he doesn't capture the dragon, the wizard threatening his family and home will make good on those threats, and as usual Amantea's family is too busy bickering about what should be done to actually do anything.

  So he'll just have to capture the dragon himself, which should be a simple enough matter—until the dragon breaks out of his trap like its nothing and promptly kidnaps Amantea so he'll stay out of the way. Amantea isn't certain which is worse: the evil wizard out to destroy his home or the insufferable dragon who can't keep his clothes on. The only thing he does know is that they're all going to be sorry the moment he escapes.

  BOOK DETAILS

  Dragon Scales

  By Sasha L. Miller

  Published by Sasha L. Miller

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission of the publisher, except for the purpose of reviews.

  Edited by Samantha M. Derr

  Cover designed by Megan Derr

  This book is a work of fiction and all names, characters, places, and incidents are fictional or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, places, or events is coincidental.

  First Edition September 2015

  Copyright © 2015 by Sasha L. Miller

  Printed in the United States of America

  For Megan, for being my rock.

  CHAPTER ONE

  Amantea caressed the top of the last mushroom completing the circle, then skipped back a few steps, surveying what he could see of the trap. It was barely noticeable, the mushroom tops hidden among the tall grass of the clearing. The dragon, by all reports, was huge, so it likely wouldn't see any of them until it was too late and had already been dumped into the pocket world.

  It was reportedly almost seven kiren tall, with blood red scales and three—three—horns. Catching the dragon would net Amantea enough money to solve all his problems. The scales alone would earn him a king's bounty, and the horns would get him half that again, if he could figure out where to sell them.

  Amantea tried to ignore the part where he'd have to eventually kill the dragon after it was trapped. He'd deal with that problem after he had the dragon in hand. Drawing out the small glass jar that would contain the dragon, Amantea squelched the guilt over the eventual killing of the dragon as he surveyed the blue glass prison.

  He had to do it. He needed the money. Dragons were just beasts—

  —and faeries weren't seen as much better in the eyes of the humans. Amantea tugged down the edges of his cap, hiding his pointed ears. It didn't matter. He'd deal with the humans for this one thing, and then go back home with enough money to pay the ransom.

  A loud thump nearby made Amantea's heart jump into his throat. He scrambled back, clutching the jar, until he was hidden in the shadow of a small, scraggly tree. He sank down to his knees, folding himself even further out of view behind the tall grass. There was a large pond—a small lake?—that the dragon was said to visit frequently. The easiest landing spot for a creature its size was to the south, and it would have to travel through the clearing where Amantea had laid his trap to get there.

  Just one foot in the circle, and Amantea would have it.

  Several agonizing seconds later, Amantea's stomach flipping nervously with every thunderous step, the dragon came into view. It was red as promised, though more of a shining, shimmering red; the way the sun hit the dragon's scales reminded Amantea of the sun hitting dew-touched flowers, not blood. There were only two horns, not three, and Amantea thought maybe the dragon was six kirens, but he'd never been good at estimating such things. He was maybe a quarter of a kiren in his largest form, and much, much smaller in his normal form.

  The dragon continued across the clearing without pause. It was bulky and large, with no wings but a long, spiked tail that bobbed as it walked. Amantea frowned. Was this the right dragon? The one the witch had wanted was supposed to be able to fly.

  Amantea hesitated, but a dragon was a dragon, right? Surely this one would be worth something, even if not to the witch who'd wanted it. Hopefully that would be enough. The dragon stepped into the circle, and Amantea tensed, gripping the jar tighter.

  The dragon didn't seem to notice the circle. Just to be on the safe side, Amantea waited until its fourth foot landed inside the circle, and then reached out to the mushrooms. Whispering softly to them, he pulled... and immediately dropped the jar when the dragon's full weight landed in it.

  Wincing, Amantea shook out his fingers and stared at the jar. He hadn't expected that. Granted, he'd never created a portal to a pocket world he could hold before. For some reason, he'd expected the dragon to weigh what it would if it were the size it was in the jar. The dragon looked purple inside the blue glass jar. It also looked pissed, thrashing around and baring its teeth. It could be roaring, but Amantea couldn't hear a thing from the pocket world.

  How in the world was he supposed to get the dragon to the witch—or the dragon's parts, and his stomach flipped queasily at that thought—if it weighed the same as it did in the real world?

  Amantea tugged at the edge of his cap, staring down at the jar pensively. What was he going to do now?

  The dragon abruptly stopped thrashing, and Amantea watched curiously as it blurred and started to shift, twisting and compressing and changing. So dragons had multiple forms, too. Amantea hadn't known that. So maybe it was the dragon the witch wanted? Amantea blinked, startled, when he realized the dragon had settled into a humanoid form. He hadn't known they could do that.

  He peered closer, surveying the claw-tipped fingers and the dotting of scales across the dragon's head in place of hair. The dragon reached his hands out to the sides—and the glass jar exploded, sending shards flying.

  Amantea yelped, flinging his hands up to cover his face. He fell backwards, landing hard on his ass.

  "You're going to regret that," a deep, menacing voice growled, and Amantea's breath caught in his chest. He lowered his arms slowly, staring wide-eyed up at the dragon. The dragon who was free. The dragon who was free and looming over him, his claws looking wickedly sharp.

  Amantea swallowed. He was going to die. How had a dragon broken his pocket world? Swallowing hard, Amantea hunched down and shut his eyes. Hopefully the dragon would make it quick and no one would hold his failure against him.

  No, they'd probably assume he ran off and abandoned them. They probably assumed that already. Amantea wilted further.

  The dragon growled, low and deep and sounding frustrated. Amantea peeked at him. Why wasn't he dead yet? The dragon was staring at him, his eyes as red as his scales, a scowl shaping his mouth and what definitely looked like a murderous look on his face. "How old are you?"

  "What?" Amantea asked, willfully ignoring the faint tremble to his voice.

  The dragon heaved a great, exasperated sigh. "Twenty, if a day. Depths take you, what are you even doing away from your fucking nest?"

  "I'm not twenty!" Amantea burst out before he could think the better of it. He was twenty-two and three-quarters of the way to twenty-three. That was more than old enough to be out on his own, no matter what his entire clan said. "Are you going to kill me or not?"

  The dragon snorted, scratching at the scales on the top of his head. There were tiny scales making up his 'eyebrows', and a thin line of them traveled down the dragon's neck and sides. His naked cock was larger
than most of the cocks Amantea had seen, but Amantea was not noticing that.

  And then he was really not noticing that, as the dragon reached out and grabbed the front of his shirt, hauling him to his feet. Amantea winced, bracing himself for the bite of claws slicing through his neck—and promptly fell back to the ground when the dragon let him go without hurting him.

  "Ow," Amantea muttered, staring up at the dragon's exasperated face in confusion. "You're not going to kill me?"

  "Oh for—" The dragon threw his hands up and then pointed at him. "Stand. Walk. Or you'll regret it."

  Amantea scrambled to his feet, adjusting the cap on his head that had come slightly askew. He stopped once he was up, staring at the dragon helplessly. Where did the dragon want him to walk to?

  "That way. Go." The dragon pointed toward the lake, and Amantea nodded jerkily, following his instructions. Maybe the dragon planned to drown him. Like most fairies, Amantea had no idea how to swim, so it wouldn't be difficult.

  Maybe he could escape? Would the dragon be able to catch him if he changed to his smallest form? He could hide among the grasses—and very likely ran the chance of being trampled if the dragon shifted. Amantea would save shifting until he had no other choice. His magic was useless; it required too much setup. Amantea's stomach shifted unhappily as they approached the lake. Its calm surface seemed so serene, but Amantea could only think about being thrown into the water, slowly suffocating as water filled his lungs.

  The lake was closer than he'd remembered, and as soon as they reached the edge, the dragon stopped. He glared at Amantea, as though all the world's problems were Amantea's fault, and then snapped out the word, "Stay."

  Amantea nodded, crossing his arms and hunching back from the dragon. The lake shore was rocky, the pebbles and small stones slick with moss. The dragon stalked along the edge of the shore, growling softly to himself as he surveyed the rocks. He didn't shift, and he kept shooting glances at Amantea to double check that he was still there.

  What he was looking for, Amantea didn't know. The dragon snarled softly, several yards away now, and Amantea took his chance when the dragon bent to look at something on the shore more closely.

  Shifting was second nature. He was the best in his clan at it, and the quickest of anyone he knew. It took him seconds to shift himself and his clothes down to his smallest size. He headed for the tall grass immediately. He'd been one step away from it in his larger size, but several more in his smaller form. He'd also been stupid enough to shrink his clothes, trapping his wings against his back.

  Still, he ran for it. If he could make the grass, he might be long lost before the dragon could get there. Amantea bolted for cover, his heart racing as he stumbled over small stones and pebbles that now seemed more like boulders and large rocks. The moss did nothing to aid him, slipping out from under his soft shoes and sliding away when he tried to steady himself with his hands.

  He could hear the thumping steps of the dragon, as well as something that sounded like thunder but was probably the dragon's growls, but he only scrambled faster. The grass was within reach, he was nearly there—and then suddenly he was airborne, and not in a pleasant way.

  Amantea wriggled, fighting against the grasp of the dragon. The dragon abruptly let him go, and Amantea landed hard in the palm of his other hand. Before Amantea could do more than blink, the dragon caged him with his other hand. The dragon lifted his hands so Amantea was on eye-level with him, giving Amantea an up close look at his pretty red eyes. "Depths take you, I told you to stay."

  Crossing his arms, Amantea glared back. His heart was hammering and he was shaking, but hopefully the dragon couldn't tell that. If he was going to die, he wasn't going to die acting like a coward.

  "Whelps," the dragon muttered, lowering Amantea. He held Amantea out in front of him, holding him gingerly, and started to walk back to where he'd been when Amantea had shifted. Amantea slumped. He should've stepped into the grass first. Or taken off his shirt first. Then he would've made it.

  Each of the dragon's steps jarred Amantea, rattling him hard enough he was sure his teeth were going to shake their way free. The dragon didn't seem to notice, and Amantea eventually had to uncross his arms to brace himself against the dragon's palm. He should've listened to the clan and stayed at home, not dragged himself out to catch a dragon.

  Still, it was better than sitting at home, pretending they could fix the problem by talking about it.

  The dragon made a soft noise then, distracting Amantea from his thoughts. It was a soft, inquisitive chirrup, and Amantea peered out of his makeshift cage, wondering what had caught the dragon's attention.

  He was lifted up again in the next second, and the dragon glared at him. "I'm going to put you down. You'll shift back to your large form. If you don't, I'll step on you."

  Amantea crossed his arms and glared again. He'd do it, but only because he didn't want to be squashed. What was the dragon going to do with him?

  "Say you understand." The dragon shook his hands, rattling Amantea like he was a pair of dice.

  "I understand," Amantea spat out, the words sour on his tongue. He yelped when the dragon abruptly knelt, grabbing onto the claw-tipped finger that was closest to him. Then the dragon was gently tipping him onto the lake shore. Amantea tumbled, landing on his hands and knees.

  A small, glittering orb a few feet away caught his eye, and Amantea stared at it, enchanted. It was beautiful. Silver and sparkling, it caught the sun with a thousand facets. It was as big as he was in this form, and Amantea had no idea what it was other than gorgeous.

  The dragon nudged him with a finger. "Change."

  Amantea fell over, startled out of his reverie. Huffing a sigh, he straightened his hat, and with one last glance at the orb, he shifted back to his larger form. He had no wings in this form, so running or shifting again was going to be his only chance at escape. But maybe the orb was worth something? Something enough to save his forest?

  "What is it?" Amantea asked, staring at it.

  "Dragon blood," the dragon said, and Amantea recoiled. He fell, tripping on the uneven lake shore and landing on his ass again. He was going to have bruises there, he knew it. The dragon heaved a sigh, rolling his eyes. He muttered something under his breath that didn't sound complimentary, but Amantea didn't care. That was dragon's blood?

  "Is it yours?" Amantea asked, ignoring the fact that not too long ago he'd been planning to—somehow—kill the dragon.

  The dragon looked down at himself—and yes, he was still naked, which was a reminder that Amantea did not need—and snorted. "No. Now when I say stay..." He trailed off, looking at Amantea expectantly.

  "Fuck you," Amantea replied, which only made the dragon roll his eyes.

  "I'll throw you in the lake," the dragon threatened. He glared at Amantea, and Amantea glared back. He didn't want to drown, but he wasn't going to act like the scared nestling the dragon thought he was. The dragon only rolled his eyes, ordering him again, "Stay."

  Amantea tugged his cap down when the dragon edged closer to the ball of dragon's blood. Did all dragon's blood do that? Or was there something special about this one? Amantea didn't know, but the dragon was approaching it as though it might explode, so Amantea scrunched up to protect himself if it did prove to be dangerous.

  The dragon glanced at him briefly but didn't say anything as he reached it. He muttered something softly under his breath, reaching out one claw-tipped finger—and the orb of dragon's blood shifted, rippling under his touch. It dissipated a second later, like steam from a hot bath.

  Amantea rested his chin on his knees, staring at the spot. It was completely gone, as though it had never been. He hadn't known that dragons knew magic of any sort, but that had been magic. So had the dragon busting out of the pocket world Amantea had put him in. How was Amantea going to get out of this when the dragon was obviously older and more experienced than he was and he knew nothing about dragons and what they could do? Maybe he should throw himself through
an unanchored portal and hope he came out of it somewhere he could find his way home?

  A last resort, Amantea decided, even as the dragon stomped back over to where he sat. With his luck, he'd port himself to the bottom of an ocean or into a volcano like his mother was always telling him his grandfather had done.

  "Get up."

  Amantea did. He'd keep following orders for now, since it didn't seem like the dragon was going to kill him yet. The dragon would give him another chance to slip away, and then Amantea could figure out what to do next.

  "Come on," the dragon muttered, but he didn't wait for Amantea to move. Instead, he reached out, grabbed Amantea by the wrist, and started dragging him further down the lake shore. His grip was tight, but his skin was oddly soft. Amantea stumbled along after him as he continued to round the lake.

  There was no more dragon's blood on the shore. They circled the entire lake, the dragon growing more and more angry the further they got. Amantea's wrist and arm ached, but he wasn't stupid enough to complain, given how irate his captor was.

  Once they were back to where they had started, the dragon dragged Amantea into the grass, back the way he'd come. He shot Amantea a look, as though daring him to complain, but Amantea only glared back. They passed through the trap circle, and Amantea spotted a few of his mushrooms lurking in the grass, smaller and less vibrant now their spell had been cast.

  "Where are you taking me?" Amantea asked as they passed through the trap circle. He didn't know what was past that; he'd come through the woods on the other side of the lake, not from the mountains on the far side.

  "Somewhere you can't cause more trouble," the dragon said, which didn't bode well. Amantea debated the merits of trying to escape again—they were in the long grass now, and he could shift rapidly—but the dragon's grip tightened on his wrist suddenly, and the dragon had turned to face him, red eyes blazing. "I'm not going to hurt you."

  "You are, though," Amantea said, tugging at his arm, though he had no expectation the dragon would let him go. His heart hammered faster, and Amantea thought it might burst if he had to endure too much more excitement or fear that day.