The Dragon Prince

Chapter Three

It was hollow.

Tall enough for even the tallest man in her village, and wide enough for two people, there was a trap door at the bottom which lead to the opening under the bed in her lodge. Pressing at a particular point in the bark opened the secret doorway only centimeters. Reaching down, Annabelle opened the door and allowed Lady to enter first. With a last look around her surroundings, Annabelle then entered and closed the trunk of the tree, making it appear as any normal tree once more.

As the duo made it to the second entrance, Annabelle pushed the trap door up and to the side as quietly as possible so as not to give away her presence to the intruder. When the door was completely moved out of her way, Annabelle noticed that she was in a good vantage point for an occasion such as this.

Looking around, she didn't see anyone or anything out of the ordinary, just the usual supplies she often left. She turned to have a look at the other side of her lodge; the side with the blocked entryway. What she saw took her breath away.

A bleeding man curled into a ball of agony on the floor. Annabelle pushed the bed to the side, and climbed out of the hole in the ground. As she cautiously made her way towards the man, she noticed that he was unconscious. Probably from the pain, she concluded. At that moment she realized just how gruesome the wounds were.

Thorns from the thorny trees in the area protruded from his skin in various places. At least what was left of his skin that is. He most likely ran through all the harmful trees and bushes. She noticed that he had tried to cover the wounds on his arm, however, that was not his worst. His left leg had been so badly injured that all she could see were the bones in his ankle. The rest of the pants he wore were in shreds and covered in blood and dirt.

Under the fresh wounds were hundreds of jagged scars. Around his wrists and neck the skin was bruised and raw as if he tried to break free of shackles. His nipples and lips had scars on them from what appeared to have been  piercings ripped out. She clutched her own breasts and touched her lips in sympathy.

Tears gathered in Annabelle's eyes. What happened to him?

I need to help him, she concluded. She knew she had to save the man from dying. She almost felt compelled to save him. As if her body craved for him to live.

It had been a while since she had last used her ability, but she knew she could heal him. One of the many traits she inherited from her mother, Annabelle had the ability to heal people with water. It was an amazing gift from the Creator and was often used for good in her mother's home village. Some could even manipulate the water for different purposes and even transform it into ice. However, a king who lusted for power overran the village and forced the renowned healers into honing their abilities for war. Those who resisted were beheaded in front of the rest of their village, and those who were not born with the ability were burned alive. Very few, including her mother, managed to escape and go into hiding, and those who had the ability practiced in secret for fear of being discovered. The only person alive who knew of Annabelle's talent was her father. And now, someone new. Unless she didn't tell him . . .

Her mind made up, Annabelle swung her water skin around to her front and opened it. She could feel the life-force that was the water. Knew that is sense she was about to use it. With practiced motions, Annabelle brought the water out of the water skin and down onto the man's leg. As she began the healing session, she could physically feel a portion of the pain he was in and knew where to direct most of her power. While the water continued to heal the stranger, she could see the muscle and skin knit itself back together over the exposed bone. Knowing that one person cannot handle extensive healing in one session, Annabelle then moved on to the wounds which needed lesser attention. His shoulder, and everywhere a thorn was deeply embedded into his skin.

It was during that time did she realize just how handsome the stranger was. His muscles seemed to ripple even as he slept. His stomach muscles just as hard and defined as the bulging muscles on his upper arms. A tangled mess, his dark brown hair easily reached just below his shoulders. On his face, a smooth scar passed through his left eyebrow and ended just before his eyelid. Along his jaw was a growing beard, not so much that it was long and unruly, but somewhat trimmed and thick. Skin much darker that Annabelle's seemed to glow in the dim light the torches gave, completing his perfect physic. Although he was very easy on the eyes, Belle couldn't help but think about the scars all over his body. He most definitely must have been through a lot in his past, she concluded. Never in her life had she seen someone with so many scars. It looked as if he was tortured. Repeatedly.

Stop, Belle, she scolded herself. You're not here for eye candy, you're here to get answers. . . Even if her lady parts wanted something a little physical.

After healing the wounds that needed immediate attention, and bandaged the ones that could heal on their own, Annabelle then realized that she would have to get him to the bed. On the other side of the cave.           

The male was massive, but she had to try.

Draco came awake to the odd sensation of something cool and refreshing on his skin. For a moment he thought he was back in his serving room, only the metal table which he served on was never refreshing. Or comfortable on his aching head.

Memories of his life of servitude sent an involuntary shiver through him. He was out; he was gone, and he promised himself that he would never go back to that life again.

Hearing shuffling around him, he slowly opened his eyes. Dark shadows danced in his line of sight until he gained the strength to open his eyes completely. What he saw almost seemed like a dream.

A woman, glowing from the dim torch light, was moving about grabbing something from a trunk. As she unfolded the item he noticed it was a blanket. It was then Draco realized that the softness under his head was a pillow. She turned around to face him only to stop when she saw him looking at her. Clutching the blanket to her chest, she tried to say something resulting in her only being able to open and close her mouth like a fish.

It was then that Draco took the time to study her features. Honey-colored hair framed her oval face and accentuated her cheek bones. She had more muscle on her than most of the women in his home nation of Tr'lys. She had sensually wide hips and medium-sized breasts that would more than likely fit perfectly into his hands should he ever have a chance to try.

But he knew better than to trust a pretty face.

He had been fooled enough times in the past to know to be weary of those he met while being a runner. She probably worked for his uncle and this was most likely was a trap.

With short breaths he managed to demand, "Who are you?"