When Midnight Comes

A/N: Nope, no lemon in this chapter. I don’t care what you say, I hate writing them.
Lots of angst and blood in this chapter though.

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So that’s how I became a dragon. It’s also how I got pregnant, which didn’t exactly deter my mate. But he’s allowed to be a sex fiend. He’s my mate.

Although that didn’t exactly make me feel any better. And God, the verbal abuse was worse than being hit. I was clumsy, ugly, stupid, half-human, crippled, simple and a bad mate to him. Did I mention I happened to be a whore? And a bitch, but that name didn’t bother me that much, because I happened to be his bitch. Damn, was he ever good in bed. Once I got used to the idea of sex, that is. Being called whore, hooker and every other name under the sun that referred to a loose woman really got under my skin though. He knew it, too. That’s probably why he used those names.

He never taught me anything about magick. He also hit me when my magick broke away from me. He seemed to think that because I was a dragon now, nobody should have to tell me how to work magick, it should just come naturally. I tried everything, even the few simple spells I had learned from the Sidhe. Everything blew up in my face.

The one thing he did teach me how to do was shift. Once I got the basics down, I was perfectly content to walk around in half-form. He wouldn’t have it though. I was to shift when he told me to, into whatever form he wanted me in. I guess it’s because shifting was painful back then, when my bones weren’t used to doing it.

My clutch was laid four months after he kidnapped me. I went away from him when it was time. I knew that he could sense which eggs were male and which weren’t, and I knew that if I clutched in his cave, he would surely kill my daughters before they hatched. So I left.

That’s when I discovered that he could make my curse scars burn at will. He used it as a tracking device, I think. At least that would explain how he found me after I was so careful leaving.

He didn’t actually get to me until the clutch was about a month old. I still wonder whether he did it on purpose or not. Just enough time for me to get attatched, but not enough time for the draclings to stop being dependent on me.

…I swear to this day I will never forget that night…

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Tari, in dragon form, curled around her draclings for the night. Her son and four daughters chirped at her, garbled forms of ‘Matri,’ the draconic word for mother, escaping them. She laid her head down to rest on her tail, content.

Her curse scars seared, and she scrambled to her feet, putting herself between the intruder and her clutch. Myshinek was in half-form, and with the blood rising in her eyes, Tari could only vaguely remember that he was the dracling’s father.

“You dare disturb our rest?” she thundered in draconian. With her tail, she shoved the draclings to the back of the small cave they called home. At least she had found one large enough to contain her in dragon form.

“You have been extremely unfaithful, mate,” he growled, shifting. Tari’s immediate instinct was to back down. He was larger than her, and she could tell he was more powerful. But something at the back of her blood-raged mind remembered that giving in to her mea meant her dracling’s deaths. She leapt for him.

He slashed his tail spade across her shoulder, laying it open to the bone before her claws connected with his chest. She tried to dig in as far as she could, hissing in satisfaction as blood began to drip to the ground. Then his back claws came up, raking at her vulnerable stomach. She screeched and let go of him, skipping backwards. His tail blade lashed forward again, and she countered, slicing it with her foreclaws. He mouth opened and she clamped it on one of the intruder’s wings, growling as she crushed the bones. Even if he beat her, she would make sure he never flew again.

rce rce picked her up and threw her against the opposite wall. Stunned, she struggled to her feet, shaking her head. She never saw his forepaw whip upwards, knocking her into the wall without magic. The blood-rage faded from her, and she knew she was defeated.

Tari cleared her throat, capable of speech once more. Her memory had returned when the blood-rage had gone. “Myshinekilinatinanut. Why are you here?” her voice was weak at best. She cursed violently in her mind, not wanting to give the male dragon any hint that she was defeated.

“Have you really forgotten? I suppose the blood-rage has addled your mind, but I though you would remember that I would eventually come to collect my son. If only you had clutched in our cave. If you had, I might have spared your daughters. Now…” he shook his head, an amused expression in his eyes.

“Bastard! Lay one claw on them and I’ll kill you!” Tari roared, struggling to her feet. She swayed, and one good swipe of his tail knocked her down again. Her breath left her, and she knew beyond all doubt that she didn’t have any strength to fight left.

“Well, someone has forgotten their manners,” he clucked, walking over to her. She began to shake, drawing her forepaws up to protect her face.

He beat her for a long time, effectively breaking her forelegs. She was bleeding from a myriad of shallow gashes left by his claws. Tari could only lie there, dizzy with pain, and hope she would pass out before having to watch him kill her children.

Myshinek stole that mercy from her, laying a spell on her that deprived he from the release of oblivion. He made her watch as he slowly killed all four of her daughters, torturing them before finally cutting their throats. The screams echoed in her ears, visions of blood and gore imprinted in her brain. He grabbed his son by the scruff and walked out of her cave, using the trees to break his fall.

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They say dragons can’t cry. They say dragon tears are a myth, that dragons are demons, evil, that they don’t deserve an emotional release. I think the only reason I did, lying there broken beside my daughter’s corpses, not even granted the luxury of sleep to escape the pain, was because I was human once.

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A/N: Before anyone asks, blood-rage is a kind of battle madness that only overcomes dragons. And yes, I enjoy torturing Tari. It’s fun, in a sick, twisted little way. Though in retrospect, I’m very sick and twisted. ^.^