Jonathan watched helplessly as one of Draco's men threw another bucket of water over Skylar. He pulled at his chains with what little strength he had left, but he knew it wasn't going anywhere. Unfortunately, that wasn't what he was most worried about. What worried him most was that Skylar didn't react. She just shivered, but otherwise her chin rested on her chest. She made no noise, didn't fight the binds that held her to the chair, nothing.
This was the third day of the treatment, and everyday they did something different to her. The first day they whipped her thighs and back, the next day they'd cut into her stomach, now today they doused her with water every hour. At least, Jonathan assumed it was day by day; there was no sense of time down here in the dark.
There worst part was they weren't doing any of this to get something out of Skylar, they were just doing it to cause her pain. There was nothing either of them could do to make them stop. Although Skylar had shrunk into herself to the point where she wouldn't even talk to him after the soldiers left, although she'd hardly spoken to him to begin with. They'd tossed her on the floor and she'd curled into a ball and cried. After that she'd retreated into herself. She wouldn't tell him where she'd been, or even if she was hurt. She didn't eat either, not that the food they were given was at all appetizing.
"Leave her alone," Jonathan snapped through the dried blood and broken nose. He was miserable and he hurt, but he hadn't given up, not when he saw Skylar. He couldn't give up when she was there, she needed him.
The man scoffed and threw the empty bucket at him. The projectile hit him square in the forehead and pain exploded behind his eyes in a sea of stars. The second soldier laughed as he untied Skylar from the chair. He pulled it out from under her and she sort of crumpled to the ground. Jonathan hung there, blinking through the pain, watching her slowly give up. It broke his heart.
"Shut up, Sir," the first soldier sneered, and then spat at Jonathan's feet. "We'll leave this here, I think, until we come back down with the next bucket. So you can watch her slowly freeze."
The soldiers chuckled as they left the cell, leaving one of their two torches behind. It burned in the corner illuminating the cold, damp cell, and the wet girl curled into a bar on the floor. Jonathan wanted more than anything to go over and hold her, but his arms, which he hadn't been able to feel for days, were still locked above his head.
"Skylar," he whispered to her. She didn't move, just continued to shiver. "Love, please sit up."
There was a small bench that she would fit on if she curled into small enough of a ball, but she hadn't used it yet. She seemed committed to making herself as miserable as possible. He couldn't sit by and watch it any longer, especially now that he could see it happening, instead of just sensing it in the darkness. He could see the clammy pallor of her once beautiful skin. Her face was dirty and covered in blood. Dark bags hung beneath her eyes, and the strange clothes she wore hung in tatters around her once full frame.
He mustered up his strength, what little of it remained, and snapped. "Skylar! Get up, now!"
His voice echoed through the dungeon, but apparently cut through whatever fog had been clouding her brain. She shifted slightly and opened her eyes so the familiar blue orbs glared up at him. Luckily, those eyes were still full of life, as if someone else was behind them. Anger filled her gaze, not the weakness she'd displayed so far.
"Leave me alone, Jonathan," she croaked. It was the first thing she'd said to him since she'd said his name when she arrived. Even though she wanted him to stop talking to her, he saw it as improvement.
"No," he answered sharply, his voice raspy. "I won't leave you alone. Why are you giving up?"
She shook her head slowly, still laying on the ground. "I have no reason to go on." But her eyes didn't leave his face.
"Skylar, what are you talking about? What about your kingdom, your parents?" he reasoned. "What about me?"
"You don't understand," she whispered, tears filling her eyes. "It's all my fault."
"Tell me what happened, make me understand," he begged, though he could feel his burst of strength draining out of him at an alarming rate. "This is Draco's fault, not yours, that much I know."
She sniffled softly and wiped her nose. Then he watched in relief as she slowly pushed herself into a sitting position. Her damp hair dripped with cold water, and she wrapped her arms around herself as she shivered. "I can't tell you, not yet. You'll hate me."
He blinked in disbelief. "Nothing you could ever tell me would make me hate you." He knew that to be true; he loved her. He loved her enough that he could never blame her for anything. Right now he just needed to keep her from slipping so far into herself that she never came back to the surface.
She met his eye dangerously, ready to argue. "We were best friends for a long time, but you don't know everything about me. You would hate me if I told you this."
He shook his head slowly. "You can't possible think that. Skylar... I... lo-"
"Don't," she snarled. "No you don't."
Anger flared up in her eyes again, and he was taken aback. She was mad at him? That didn't seem right. He studied her closer, and he saw the changes in her, even when she was weak, upset, and in bad lighting. She was more open, more sure of herself even. Like the confidence she'd always had was magnified ten times. There was also the small detail that she wore men's clothes. What had happened to her since she'd been gone? Someone had obviously been taking care of her.
"I know what I feel."
"I thought I did, too," she answered softly. "But you have no idea until it's gone. And now his blood is on my hands."
At the mention of some unknown man, jealousy arose with a vengeance inside him. He'd never felt anything so strongly before. Was she mourning some other man?
"Whose blood?" he asked, although he was close to passing out from exhaustion. "What are you talking about?"
She shook her head, and looked away. Was she ignoring him?
"Skylar, answer me," he demanded. "Where have you been? I deserve to know that much, since I ended up here because I was searching for you."
She snarled at him, lifting her lip in an animalistic gesture he hadn't expected. "I never asked you to do that. I never asked you to go into Draco's kingdom, to risk your life for me!"
"I would do more that simply risk my life for you, Princess," he told her honestly, his eyes not leaving hers. "You're more important to me than my life."
Sadness filled her gaze before she buried her face in her hands. She shook her head for a moment, apparently trying to gather her thoughts. Finally she stood up and walked over to stand right in front of him. He hung low enough that they were face to face, and she left very little distance between them.
She reached up to touch his beard-roughened cheek, her blue eyes never leaving his. "I don't deserve you, Jonathan. I really don't."
That was when her eyes began to glow.
He felt her reach above his head to where the cuff wrapped around his wrist, but he couldn't look away from her eyes. He had to be seeing things now, simply had to be. The exhaustion had finally caught up to him and he was delirious.
He felt her grasp the cuff and the chain that locked him in place and finally swiveled so he could see what she was doing. He watched in shock as she grabbed the point where the chain connected to the cuff and gave it a sharp yank. The sound of metal against metal rang through the cell, but what surprised him more than anything was that after groaning against the strain, the chain broke. His limp arm fell against his side as she did the same thing to his other hand. As soon as he was free, his legs buckled underneath him and he fell into a ball on the ground. But Skylar was there, helping prop him up against the wall as she began to massage one of his arms to bring feeling back into it.
"What the hell," he breathed out, not sure if what just happened really happened.
"Shhhh," she whispered. "I'm sorry you're here. I'm sorry I got us into this mess. I don't know how to get us out of it." Her eyes no longer glowed, and she looked so tired. Apparently that burst of strength, whatever it had been, had taken a lot out of her.
She continued with a soft chuckle. "I should have done that when I first got here, but I wasn't thinking. I'm sorry."
"It's... okay?"
"I'll explain soon, but now isn't the time."
She sat down next to him, leaning against his side. She was freezing, but he wrapped an arm around her anyway, pulling her close.
"Whose blood is on your hands, Skylar?" he asked, since it seemed like the easiest thing to approach. He felt her tense up and that intense sadness come over her again. She pulled her knees up closer to her chest and shook her head. He nudged her gently, which was all he could manage anyway. "A man's?"
"He's dead because of me," she whimpered and began to shake violently. "I convinced him to help me save you, and now he's dead."
Jonathan had no idea what to make of that statement. He still had no idea who she was referring to, it could have been anyone, really.
"Now Draco's going to kill them all, because I'll be here, rotting."
It sounded like she had given up, even after the burst of life she'd just had. He didn't answer her, mostly because all of the strength he'd found after the soldiers left was gone. For the first time in a long time, he wasn't hanging from the ceiling. He leaned his head back against the wall and fell asleep with Skylar leaning heavily against him.
<><><><><><><><><><>
"Well, well, what do we have here?" a snide voice sneered. Jonathan blinked his eyes open to find Draco staring down at them. Skylar was already awake, a low rumble emitting from her small form.
"Shut up," the king snapped at her. "Chain her up and bring her to the arena."
"What?" she asked as two soldiers grabbed her arms and dragged her away. "Jonathan!"
Another pain of soldiers held Jonathan back as he began to follow her. They really only needed one of them; he wasn't strong enough to fight back. "Where are you taking her?" he demanded of the king.
"Apparently hurting her human form isn't breaking her spirit, since she found the strength to break you free. Maybe hurting her other form will be enough. Besides, my men need to train."
Jonathan had no idea what he was talking about. Maybe he was still asleep and this was a strange dream?
"Would you like to come along? I'm sure you'd like to get out of this cell, away from your own filth," the king lifted his lip in distaste and Jonathan glared up at him. "I'll even give you food and drink. Proper food and drink."
Strong as Jonathan wanted to be, he found that hard to resist. Besides, he couldn't leave Skylar alone, even though he had no idea what Draco had planned for her. What could she possibly have to do with his men training? He looked past Draco to where Skylar was dragged out of the cell. She struggled and growled at the men dragging her, but she appeared far from helpless. Still, Jonathan had been raised and trained to protect that princess and it went against every grain in his body to even consider staying behind. Not while she was subjected to who knew what at the hands of the king.
"I'll come along," Jonathan agreed, glaring up at the king. The soldiers pulled him to his feet as the king nodded to someone in the doorway. A servant rushed in with a robe which he quickly wrapped around the knight. Jonathan tried to not enjoy the warmth it brought too much, but his inhibitions had been weakened during the time he'd been here, which felt like an eternity.
"What are you going to do to her?" he asked as he was led behind the king further into the bowels of the castle.
"You'll find out, but I think you'll find it very interesting," Draco promised. "Perhaps even enlightening."
Jonathan just stared behind him, unable to comprehend the words. How could he possibly find whatever they were about to do to Skylar interesting? He was still trying to figure out what Skylar had to do with Draco's soldiers, who she had been referring to when she spoke of some man, and who Draco was going to kill. So much was floating around his mind, which was confusing enough when he wasn't suffering from exhaustion, sleep deprivation, starvation, and immense thirst.
The hallway they were following suddenly shifted into an abrupt incline and he stumbled forward, having been lost in his thoughts. In fact, he would have fallen on his face if the soldiers' grip on his arms hadn't been so tight.
"Watch it," one snapped, giving his arm a rough jerk. Jonathan said nothing, finding that to be in his best interest. Besides, he had to save his energy for whatever they were walking into. He tried to ready himself by going into the mindset of a knight preparing for a fight, but that felt like a lifetime ago. Since then he'd been tortured and watched one of his men brutally murdered right before his eyes, for no other reason than they'd wanted to get a rise out of Jonathan. He wouldn't forgive himself for Adam's death, because even though Draco had swung the sword, Jonathan was the reason they were there in the first place. He'd gotten careless, and they'd been discovered, and Adam had paid the ultimate price for it.
They arrived at a set of doors, which were thrown open at their arrival. The light of midday cut through the doorway and Jonathan squeezed his eyes shut at the assault. His eyes hadn't seen sunlight in over a week, he'd either been in torchlight or complete and total darkness. This was an abrupt change that would take a moment to get used to.
Unfortunately, Draco wasn't willing to give him that moment.
"Sit him down there and clean him up. I won't have my personal guest covered in blood for the event," the king demanded. Jonathan was plopped down in a chair and immediately three maids were standing over him with rags and cold water, scrubbing at the tried blood on his face and what was visible of his torso. They were surprisingly gently around his swollen nose, but even as gentle as they were, it was a form of torture as they scrubbed.
Once they were finished, he was pulled over to a table, seated at the king's left. A plate of steaming food and a goblet of wine was placed in front of him. He wanted to resist, but need gave in and he began to pick at the chicken and bread before him. The table at which they sat looked over the arena Draco had mentioned before. The arena itself had a dirt floor, but was otherwise fenced in, even over the top. The metal bars that created a barrier between an audience and those inside were thick and impenetrable, it seemed. Jonathan could only imagine what they were used for. He'd never seen such a set up for an arena before.
Draco sat quietly, waiting. He didn't pay any attention to Jonathan. He only looked away from the empty arena when the sound of dainty footsteps echoed on the stone floor. Jonathan looked over to see who would be joining them, and was shocked to see Queen Isabel, Draco's wife, taking a seat on the king's right.
"You're late," Draco snapped at her.
Isabel didn't so much as blink at him. "It took longer to get it on than I anticipated. She's a spirited girl. There was also the matter of your sons wondering why they couldn't partake in the activities."
"One day soon," Draco grinned to himself. "One day soon they can each have a dragon of their very own."
Isabel said nothing, simply glanced at Jonathan before gracefully taking her seat. She was an intimidating woman, but Jonathan wasn't focused on that. He was focused on Draco's comment about dragons. He looked up at the bars creating a hemisphere around the top of the arena and was suddenly realized what it was for.
There was a dragon here, and it was about to be let out. Skylar was down there, about to be let into the arena, that much Jonathan knew for sure. She wouldn't have a chance against a dragon. Everything he had just eaten sat like a rock in his stomach and his appetite disappeared as he thought of Skylar locked in a cage with an angry dragon. What could Draco possibly want with her in there?
Jonathan looked at the stands around the arena, noticing they'd begun to fill with soldiers. If he had to guess, two hundred men had gathered around to watch the show.
"Let's begin, shall we, Jonathan?" Draco chuckled. Then he raised his voice. "Let them in!"
As soon as the words left his mouth, a dozen soldiers jogged into the arena in full armor. They spread out into a half circle, gripping their swords, maces, and various other weapons of choice while also brandishing their shields. They proudly raised their arms and spun to show off to their fellow soldiers before bowing to their king and queen. The soldiers in the audience cheered loudly for their brethren while Draco clapped slowly for them before rising to his feet.
The men silenced when they saw their king standing patiently. "As you know, we will be marching on the dragon clan very soon, and I would like you all to be practiced in the art of fighting a dragon in close combat before that time comes. I picked this one out special for you all, and please don't hesitate to use every move you have. I expect blood to be drawn, and I won't be satisfied until it is. This is the sort of dragon you will be facing, one that can blend in in a crowd, and I want you to be able to recognize the signs when they are about to reveal themselves, as with this one here. So, please, enjoy yourselves and show her how grateful you are for the chance to practice with her."
The soldiers nodded and bowed low before spinning to face the main door. It began to lift at an agonizing pace, groaning against the strain of the chains pulling it off the ground. Jonathan had no idea what he'd been expecting, but it wasn't what was revealed by the door.
Skylar stood there, appearing terrible small in the huge arena. Her eyes darted around the arena, fear radiating from her. The worst part was that she had a muzzle wrapped around her face, and Jonathan could see the blood dripping down her neck and soaking into the collar of her shirt, as if the muzzle had cut her.
"You're sure it will work?" Jonathan heard Draco ask Isabel.
"Yes," the queen snapped. "I inserted it into her neck, where the magic in her blood should react with the magic in the metal. It will shift as she does."
Jonathan glanced at them in his peripheral, but he didn't want to take his eyes off of Skylar. What was she doing in there?
The soldiers had quieted upon sight of her, but now they were laughing, looking up at their king in confusion, as if this was all some sort of joke.
Draco remained quiet, resting his chin on his hand, waiting. Jonathan watched as anger flared in Skylar's gaze, her eyes beginning to glow once again. She stepped forward into the arena and something began to happen to her. Her body began to shake a little and a surge of power shot through the arena. She had the attention of everyone now as a guttural roar exploded from her throat and her body contorted. It lasted no more than a second, but it was long enough for him to see her shift from his sweet, familiar Skylar, into a blue monster.
The dragon crouched low, her teeth shining through the bars of the muzzle as a continuous growl escaped her. Jonathan had no idea what he had just seen, but apparently neither did the soldiers. They stared at the beast before them, obviously not sure what to do. At least until she pounced.
She landed right on top of one of the soldiers, her mouth opening to tear him apart, but instead she just crushed him into the ground withe muzzle wrapped around her head. That seemed to make her angrier and she reached up with one of her impressive claws to try and dislodge the obstruction, but now the soldiers had gathered themselves.
They all rushed her at once, from all sides. Never in his wildest dreams would Jonathan have thought he'd ever be on the same side as a dragon, but this was Skylar. At least, he thought it was and there was no evidence to say that the beast in the arena wasn't the woman he loved and had vowed to protect.
He watched helplessly as the soldiers rushed at her with their weapons held high. She leaped into the air, over their heads, to avoid the sharp metal and sweep out once of her paws and launch a few men into the metal bars. But even as she stunned one soldier, there was another to take his place.
"What do you think?" Draco asked him. "Did you expect that?"
"What did you do to her?" Jonathan snapped, turning to glare at the king, who put a hand to his chest in innocence.
"I did nothing to her, she was born as that monstrosity. I'm trying to take care of the problem that is her kind. I want my men ready to fight them. These are the men who haven't gotten a chance to spar with the other two dragons in my possession, two from her new clan. Where do you think she's been since she slipped my grasp?"
Of course. If she'd always been like this... she would have gone to find them. She would have wanted to be among people like her. He'd never hidden how much he despised dragons. How had she hidden what she was for so long? How could she stand to be around him thinking he would hate her. He know understood why she wouldn't talk to him down in the cell, because everything had to do with this. This big secret she'd hidden for as long as he'd known her.
He didn't hate her, he realized, could never hate her. He loved her still, but now he felt like all he'd done was hurt her.
The dragon roared in pain as a sword scraped along her side. For the most part, it bounced along her armored scales, but caught one on the end just right and slipped beneath it. Jonathan's heart broke at the sound and he leaned forward in his seat, unable to look away. The volume of the soldiers in the audience increased by the minute as they got more and more excited, as the blue dragon was more and more overwhelmed.
She suddenly lost the moment she'd started with, the element of surprise having worn off. The men were confident, and they were determined to hurt her. The swords didn't do a lot to harm her unless they got underneath her scales, but those with maces, war hammers, and axes were relentless, slamming into her, not giving her a chance to breath. She got a few good swipes in, but with the muzzle on, one of her most effective weapons was taken away. Jonathan figured that had been the idea when Draco had it placed on her.
She stumbled away, backed against the wall of the arena. The soldiers advanced on her, no longer afraid of her in the slightest. Even though she was large with razor teeth and claws, the men were confident they could beat her. And she was obviously tired and in pain. But no blood had been drawn, and Jonathan knew that was what it would take for him to stop the men. His only hope was that Draco wouldn't let them kill her. Jonathan didn't think he would, he wanted to draw this out, to enjoy watching them hurt her, but the king was unpredictable.
Finally, one soldier in the arena stepped forward, undeterred by the snarl emitting from the dragon, and swung his ax with all his might. Skylar moved just in time, otherwise it would have lodged itself in her neck. Instead, it found a place in her shoulder, slicing through the scales. Blood flowed over the glittering blue armor, painting it read.
The squeal the erupted from the beast was one of the most heartbreak sounds Jonathan had ever heard and he rose from his seat.
"End this!" he demanded of the king. "Blood was drawn. Stop them!"
"Very well," Draco sighed, standing up as well. "That's enough! You've proven yourselves, and you'll get another chance. But I think now we should give some others a try as well, shouldn't we?"
Jonathan's protests were drowned out by the cheering of the crowd. The blue dragon locked her eyes on Draco as the soldiers left the arena. Pure, unadulterated hatred burned there, and she suddenly launched herself at the wall of the arena. Her wings opened to let her glide all the way across, where she grabbed onto the bars of the cage right in front of Draco and roared in his face.
The king didn't even flinch. In face, he stepped closer, his hands folded neatly behind his back. "Get. Down."
The blue dragon snarled through the muzzle, eyes glowing with a murderous gaze, but she wasn't getting through the bars.
"Skylar," Jonathan said, and her gaze slipped over to his. It softened slightly, but not a lot. Finally she slid back down to the floor of the arena to await the next group of soldiers. Jonathan wasn't confident she would do well. She was hurt and exhausted, and these men were well rested and eager.
He was right.
This time was even worse, as it ended with a sword running through her leg. The roar that followed was deafening, but it only excited the crowd.
This continued again and again and again, each time the blue dragon suffering a worse fate than the last, until she finally collapsed on the ground.
She didn't get up. Didn't even lift her head.
"Skylar!" Jonathan shouted, but a soldier standing behind him slammed him back down into his chair when he tried to rise.
Draco paid him no mind, just watched carefully for signs of life. He had to make sure she wasn't dead, of course. Otherwise his fun would be over. He was satisfied when he saw her inhale a shallow breath. He was able to see it because the shimmering of the blood that covered her shifted.
"Get the other two dragons ready," he told two men behind him. "Take her away."
"Yes, Your Grace," two men said, bowing in acknowledgement.
As a second thought, the king addressed his wife. "Their muzzles are on?" Draco looked over at Isabel, who hadn't been watching the arena in quite some time. She seemed sickened by what was happening, and had been staring down at her hands.
"Not yet," she answered softly.
Draco slammed his fist down on the table and Isabel flinched slightly. "What good are they if their muzzles aren't on? I won't make it easy for them to kill my men. Go put their muzzles on!"
Isabel glared at him before she nodded and rose from her seat. "I'd like Jonathan to come with me."
"No," Draco shook his head. "The knight stays here. I don't know why you'd want him there anyway."
"He comes, or I don't put the muzzles on and your fun ends for the day."
Draco glared at her, but was obviously considering his options. Finally, he conceded with a nod. "Fine. Take him, but you won't leave the sight of my soldiers. Don't you dare try anything. I won't hesitate to kill you." The last part was directed for Jonathan, who simply nodded. He didn't want to leave Skylar alone, but he could bear to look at Skylar anymore, not without losing what little food he had eaten.
She nodded at Jonathan, who rose from his seat slowly. He looked back at where Skylar lay on her side in the arena. The dirt around her was saturated in blood, and the poor dragon was obviously in so much pain. He didn't know what to do, and he had never been so helpless in his life.
He and Isabel were accompanied by the two soldiers who had been sent to retrieve the dragons. She rushed them along, obviously not wanting to bring on the wrath of her husband. She was moving so fast, in fact, that she tripped and fell into her hands and knees.
The soldiers were fast to help her to her feet. As they bent down toward her, her hands shot to their throats and light erupted from them. Both soldiers fell to the ground, unconscious.
She rose to her feet to face Jonathan, who stood with an open mouth. "What?" he asked, shocked.
"We don't have much time, but we need to get you and the dragons out of here. It's your only chance," she grabbed his hand with a surprising amount of strength and dragged him back into the dungeons. "But to help you and Skylar, I'll need something in return."
"But-"
"Do you want my help or not? Time is not our friend!" The torch on the ground illuminated her from below, sending harsh shadows over her face. Jonathan's mind suddenly stopped working. Isabel's patience didn't stretch very far.
"I'm a witch," she snapped. "Draco kidnapped me fifteen years ago and I've been forced to act as his wife ever since. I hate dragons as much as anyone, arrogant creatures they are, but I can't watch a fellow magic creature be treated this way. This is too far."
"A witch," he whispered in surprise as they rounded a corner. He glanced down to where their hands were connected and was suddenly worried that she was about to drop him like a rock, like she had the soldiers.
"Yes, a witch!" she snarled. "Now will you agree to something in return?"
"Yes," he said, even though he had no idea what she was going to ask of him. "What is it?"
"One day, Skylar will have a daughter with a man by the name of Nogard-"
"Hey-" Jonathan began, anger rising inside of him at the mention of Skylar with anyone else.
Isabel dragged him to a stop and glared up at him. "Listen to me. This child has been in the making for centuries, our Seers have been seen it, more than once. One day, Skylar will bear a daughter with a man by the name of Nogard. This child will more powerful than anyone before her. Promise her to me, and I will get you out of here."
"I can't promise you Skylar's child!"
"Promise the child to me, and I will get you all out of here safely. You'll die if I don't help you, and you know it."
Jonathan stared at her. He didn't know what to say. He couldn't promise something like that, mostly because he didn't want to admit that Skylar was going to have another man's children. Then again, he'd never believed in fortune telling before. People made their own paths, and no path was set in stone, including this one.
"Fine. I promise."
A smile spread over Isabel's face. "Lovely, now let's get going."
She seemed to know exactly where she was going, as they were in complete darkness but she never once hesitated. The only reason Jonathan didn't turn and run was because he couldn't see a thing.
Finally they stopped and she snapped her fingers. The torch on the wall burst into flame, illuminating the cell they had stopped in front of. Two men sat in the cell, but quickly rose to their feet at the sight of Jonathan and the queen.
"We're here to get you out," she stated, pointing a finger at the lock on the cell. Both men had iron collars locked around their necks, but at Isabel's touch, they unlocked.
"You are of the Western Clan?" Isabel asked them.
One man nodded with a wary glance at Jonathan. "Yes."
"Your future Alpha female, Orion's mate, is upstairs in the arena. She's dying, and you need to get her home, along with Sir Jonathan here. Take him with you, and you'll all live."
"We're not taking some human back to our clan!" the second man snarled.
"Then you'll be the one to tell Orion you let his mate die?" she countered. Jonathan tried to ignore what he was hearing, but that was impossible.
The men glanced at one another, and came to a silent agreement. "Very well, witch."
"Wonderful, now come along, and you'll all be home soon."
The two dragons gave Jonathan a skeptical glance, but didn't stop him when he ran alongside them. Jonathan, of course, didn't trust the men either, but he needed them to save Skylar.
They arrived at the entrance of the arena, where Isabel quickly took care of the two men standing there to open the gate. One of the dragons shifted quickly, while the other stayed human. Jonathan tried not to be too intimidated by the green dragon next to him.
"Get up there!" the still-human dragon snapped, pointing to the green dragon's back. "Now! I don't have any problems leaving you behind, just remember that!"
"You'll need to be fast, but I'll take care of the cage. You get Skylar, and get out of here before the soldiers can enter, alright?" Isabel demanded.
All three men nodded their understanding as Isabel pulled the lever to release the gate. It rose, but the green dragon didn't wait for it to finish. He burst through the wooden door, shattering it with an angry roar. The audience gasped in shock as the dragon rushed forward, fire erupting from his open maw. The crowd dove for cover as the flame rushed through the bars of the cage and over their heads. Jonathan vaguely heard Draco screaming something, but he only had so much room in his head to focus, and right now it was split between hanging onto the dragon and Skylar.
The man crouched around her, pressing different spots on her body until she shifted back into herself. The human Skylar was unconscious as well, and she didn't look much better than her dragon had. They didn't have time to take her muzzle off. Instead, the man shifted and grabbed her gently in one of his paws. As he did this, the top of the cage exploded outward, Isabel apparently taking care of her part. The hole was big enough for each dragon to launch himself through. Jonathan nearly ended up on the floor of the arena as his mount jumped up over the metal bars and threw his wings open.
As they flew away, Draco's angry screams followed them. But all the two dragons, and Jonathan, were focused on was getting back to the Western Clan and making sure Skylar didn't die on the way there.