Kael approached the pinned drake cautiously. Its eyes—all of them—were still glowing with that horrible corrupted red. As Kael looked closely, its jaws snapped weakly, shocking him enough to back away, but it couldn't move under the boulder's weight.
"Not dead," Kael said. "But trapped. It won't last long without feeding." He looked back up at Michelle. "That was..."
"Stupid? Reckless? Incredibly dangerous? I know... but it worked."
Yes, yes, and yes, he wanted to say, but he didn't want to encourage her quick reckless thinking even though it had saved their lives, nor did he want to disappoint her. "Strategic." He said it like the word was foreign to him. "You used terrain advantage and observation. Like a..." He paused, not able to find any analogy for this woman's brain. "Like a smart dragon would."
"I'm going to choose to take that as a compliment," Michelle said, "and not think too hard about the implications."
"How did you get up there with your injured leg?"
"Stubbornness and spite, mostly." She looked down at the twenty-foot drop and immediately regretted it. "Also, I didn't really think this through. How do I get down?"
"Oh, my Lord!" Kael laughed before he shifted fully, his bones cracking, body expanding into his massive dragon form. He positioned himself below her ledge and made a rumbling sound that might have been dragon-speak for "jump."
"You want me to jump onto a dragon," Michelle said flatly.
He made the sound again, more insistent.
"This is insane. I've completely lost my mind." But she partially jumped and leaped anyway.
She landed on his back between his wing joints, her fingers scrabbling for purchase on his scales. They were warm under her hands, smooth but with enough texture to grip. The moment Michelle touched his dragon body, Kael roared—and strangely, his roar didn't terrify her, though it gave her goosebumps all over.
The dragon, meanwhile, was stunned beyond words. How is she not burning up? He had wanted to help her step down, but seeing how she was unaffected by his dragon heat made him curious. He had known human skin burned easily. But seeing Michelle unbothered and holding onto him with all her might, he took the chance. She might start to feel the burn soon, and the second she objects, I'll land.
Kael's wings spread—a sound like sails catching wind—and then they were airborne.
Michelle's stomach dropped as they rose out of the ravine. She pressed herself flat against his neck, arms wrapped around one of his back spikes, and tried very hard not to think about the fact that she was currently riding a dragon through an alien sky.
The view was spectacular.
From this height, she could see the full scope of the Feral Lands—the endless forest canopy stretching in all directions, broken only by occasional ravines and clearings. The bioluminescent fungi created patterns of blue and purple light even in the daytime glow. In the distance, she could see mountains, and beyond them, what might have been desert or volcanic plains.
It was beautiful and terrifying in equal measure.
Kael banked left, and Michelle's grip tightened involuntarily. He made a sound that she'd swear was dragon-laughter, then leveled out, gliding smoothly on thermal currents. After a few minutes, her death-grip relaxed slightly. The rhythm of his wings was almost hypnotic—powerful strokes followed by long glides.
Michelle, you're flying, her brain supplied helpfully. You're actually flying on a dragon's back. This is either the best or worst day of my life, and I can't decide which.
They flew for perhaps twelve hours before Kael began to descend. He landed in a small clearing, surprisingly gentle for something his size, and crouched low enough for Michelle to slide off. Her legs nearly buckled when her feet hit the ground—a combination of injured knee and wobbly-from-flight legs.
Kael shifted back to human form, and Michelle pointedly examined a nearby tree.
"You fought well," he said.
"I dropped a rock. That's not fighting."
Little did she know, he didn't mean that—he meant riding a dragon. He had never known a human to ride a dragon without being bonded. Still, he played along with her naivety. She had a lot to learn about their world. "You climbed an unstable cliff face with an injured leg to gain tactical advantage and save both our lives. That is the definition of fighting." He moved into her line of sight, forcing her to look at him. "Most humans would have panicked or frozen. You assessed quickly."
Michelle met his gold eyes before rolling her own. "I'm not going to die in some dimension called the Feral Lands after surviving years of grad school on Earth. I've worked too long and too hard to give up now."
Something shifted in his expression—not quite a smile, but close. "You are very strange, Michelle."
"Yeah, well, you're a naked dragon-man, so let's call it even." She looked around the clearing. "Where are we?"
"Three hours from the settlement, if we'd walked. I'm too drained to fly now..." He gestured to the sky. "Even though flying cuts travel time significantly."
"It's fine, take a rest. We're... close?"
"We will arrive tomorrow. Tonight, we camp here." He was already moving toward the tree line. "I'll hunt. You should rest and tend your knee properly."
"Wait." Michelle limped after him. "That's it? We're just... going to camp? Out in the open? What if we get attacked by another rotting dragon?"
Kael turned back, looking genuinely confused by her confusion. "What else would we do?"
"I don't know, maybe discuss strategy for avoiding attacks? Process our near-death experience? Have a moment of existential crisis about mortality and corrupted monsters?"
"We survived. The corrupted drake did not. That is all that matters." He tilted his head, studying her. "Is this an Earth-human thing? The need to discuss what has already happened?"
"It's called 'processing emotions and planning better,' and yes, it's a human thing!" It wasn't just that—Michelle wanted to know more about everything, and Kael was dropping information in bits and pieces for her to pick up, which was giving her anxiety. And a hell of a lot of reasons to doubt him. He could be a bad dragon.
"Emotions are inefficient."
"Emotions are what make us not monsters!" Michelle threw her hands up, immediately winced as the motion jolted her knee. "Fine. Go hunt. I'll just be here, not processing anything, definitely not having a breakdown."
He watched her for a long moment, then surprised her by walking back. He stopped directly in front of her, close enough that she had to tilt her head back to maintain eye contact.
"You are afraid," he said. It wasn't a question.
"Of course I am! I fell through a dimensional rift yesterday, almost died multiple times, and just fought a zombie dragon with a rock! Fear is the appropriate response!"
"But you act otherwise."
Michelle just looked at him, uncertain. Was I fearless?
"That is courage." He said it simply, as if stating an obvious fact. "Fear that does not stop action is the purest form of bravery. Dragons understand this."
Michelle blinked. Of all the things she'd expected him to say, that wasn't it.
"I..." She swallowed hard, something warm and unexpected blooming in her chest. "Thank you."
"Stay in the clearing. I will return soon." He paused at the tree line. "You are not fragile cargo."
Then he was gone, disappearing into the undergrowth with the silence of a natural predator.
Michelle stood alone in the clearing, her knee throbbing, her body covered in bruises and scrapes, exhausted beyond measure. But despite everything—despite the terror and pain and impossible circumstances—she felt something she hadn't felt in a long time.
Hope.
She limped to a fallen log and sat heavily, pulling off her boot to examine her knee. It was swollen and definitely needed proper medical attention she didn't have access to. But it was holding. She was holding.
Okay, she thought, pulling out her dead phone and using its blank screen as a mirror to check her face for injuries. Physical damage: pretty bad. Mental state: questionable. Emotional stability: surprisingly intact, all things considered.
She looked around the clearing, studying the alien plants with scientific interest. Some of the vegetation looked similar to Earth flora—convergent evolution, maybe?—but distinctly different. She plucked a few herb-like plants before exhaustion caught up with her.
By the time she was putting her boot back on, Kael returned carrying what looked like a cross between a deer and something with way too many legs. He'd also collected an armful of firewood, which he dropped in the center of the clearing.
"Can you make fire?" he asked.
"Yes. But I need—" She paused. "Do you have flint? Or any way to create sparks?"
In response, Kael held out his hand. A small gout of flame appeared in his palm, controlled and precise. He looked inordinately smug.
"Show-off," Michelle muttered, but she set about arranging the wood properly. "You know, on Earth, we invented matches. And lighters. And gas stoves. We don't have to rely on dragon breath for everything."
"Your technology makes you weak."
"My technology means I don't have to eat raw meat and die of parasites." She arranged kindling in a pyramid structure, added larger pieces around it. "Light this."
He did, the flames catching immediately. Michelle fed the fire carefully, building it up to a sustainable burn.
"Why do you do that?" Kael asked.
"Do what?"
"Arrange the wood in patterns. Fire is fire."
"Fire is chemistry and physics," Michelle corrected. "You need oxygen flow, fuel arrangement, heat distribution. Just throwing wood in a pile is inefficient. This structure maximizes burn time while minimizing fuel consumption and creates even heat distribution for cooking."
Kael stared at the fire like she'd just performed magic.
"What?" Michelle asked.
"You think like a master-kin," he said slowly. "Always about efficiency. Resource optimization. Strategic advantage." He looked at her with something approaching wonder. "But you're mere human."
"Intelligence isn't species-specific," Michelle said, though she felt oddly pleased by the comparison. "So, are you going to cook that thing, or are we doing Earth-style roasting?"
"You want to cook it?"
"I want to not get food poisoning, so yes, we're cooking it."
Kael handed her the hunt and she tried not to think too hard about what it was and watched with fascination as she field-dressed it using her multi-tool, set up a makeshift spit from green branches, and began roasting it over the fire.
"Your world has many strange knowledges," he observed.
"My world values survival skills and scientific method," Michelle said. "We're not all fragile."
"No," Kael agreed, settling across the fire from her. The firelight caught his scales, making them shimmer. "You are definitely not. Otherwise you would've rotten a while ago."
They sat in companionable silence as the meat cooked, the forest sounds filtering through the gathering darkness. Michelle's exhaustion was catching up with her, but her mind wouldn't stop analyzing, planning, worrying.
"Kael?" she said finally.
"Yes?"
"What happens when we reach the settlement tomorrow? What happens to me?"
He was quiet for a long moment. "That depends."
"On what?"
"On you, mostly." He met her eyes across the flames. "You could become a craftswoman or healer, valued for your skills. You could seek refuge with a clan. You could..." He paused. "You could accept a mate who would protect you."
"And if I don't want any of those options?"
"Then you will struggle. Females without protection are targets. This is not your Earth, Michelle. The strong rule here, and you are..." He gestured at her injured knee. "Not strong in the ways this world values."
"Earlier you said I was strong."
"In some way." His gaze was unsettling in its intensity. "But others will not see it as I do. They will see a lone female and think 'claim her' or 'use her.'"
Michelle turned the spit, watching fat drip and sizzle in the flames. "What do you see when you look at me?"
"Honestly?"
"Please."
"At first? Fragile cargo. A weak creature who would die without my protection." He leaned forward, firelight reflecting in his gold eyes. "Now? A survivor with a mind sharper than most warriors' claws. Someone who drops boulders on corrupted drakes and then complains about not processing emotions." His mouth quirked. "Someone interesting."
"Interesting." Michelle tested the word. "Is that good or bad?"
"In the Feral Lands?" Kael's smile showed teeth. "Both."
Michelle pulled the meat from the fire, tested that it was cooked through. She divided it roughly in half with her multi-tool and offered Kael his portion.
He sniffed it cautiously, then took a bite. His eyes widened.
"This is... not bad. What did you put on it?"
"It's called seasoning. Well, improvised seasoning. I found some herbs while you were hunting that smelled similar to Earth plants." Michelle took a bite of her own portion. It wasn't great, but it was food. "Everything's better cooked."
They ate in silence, and when they finished, Kael banked the fire while Michelle tried to find a comfortable position against a tree trunk. Her knee was swelling again, her bruised ribs ached, and she was fairly certain she had about seventeen new scrapes she'd discover tomorrow.
"Michelle," Kael said from the darkness.
"Yeah?"
"When we reach the settlement... others may try to claim you."
Her heart did something complicated. "Oh."
"But I will not leave you unprotected. You interest me. I wish to see what happens next." She could hear the smile in his voice. "You may continue to argue with me and drop rocks on things. It is... entertaining."
Despite everything—the fear, the pain, the impossible situation—Michelle found herself smiling. "I'll try to keep the entertainment value high."
"Good. Sleep. Tomorrow, your life becomes even more complicated."
"Can't wait," she muttered, but she was already drifting off, lulled by exhaustion and the crackling fire and, unexpectedly, the presence of a dragon who'd called her strategic and brave.
Tomorrow, she'd deal with settlements and protection and the complex politics of a world where being female apparently meant being claimed. Tonight, she let herself feel just a little bit proud that she'd survived this long.
Not bad for your first two days in a hell dimension, Michelle. Not bad at all.
"Goodnight, Kael," she whispered.
"Goodnight..." He paused, then added in a quieter tone, "mate."
Michelle's lips quirked in drowsy amusement. Mate. Like buddy, or pal. It was oddly endearing, hearing him try to use casual Earth slang. "Night, mate," she mumbled back, already half-asleep.
In the darkness, Kael's eyes gleamed gold. The word meant something far different in his world—a declaration, a claim, a promise. But she didn't need to know that yet. For now, let her think it simple companionship.
He settled back against a tree, watching the fire and the sleeping human who had somehow, impossibly, ridden a dragon without burning.
Mate, he thought again, tasting the weight of the word. Yes. That felt right. Call me Mate!