Dragon Kin

11

Alicja

Dradam.

That's what this man was. A Dradam. He scooped me up back there like I was a toy and hurtled six foot fences like they were speed bumps. He ran faster than most traffic.

And I was marked with him. What did that mean to him?

We were at the front door of his home, I guessed it was his home, and I was suddenly filled with terror. My hands began to shake and I didn't know if I could walk through that door. I felt certain that if I did, I would never be walking out again. Not as a free woman.

I couldn't fight him. I couldn't outrun him. I could scream but who would hear me? It didn't seem like there were other homes on this floor. We were so high, too.

Whatever I did, I couldn't let him know how scared I was. 'Get a hold of yourself', I scolded. Stop shaking!

"Hey, hey," he suddenly crooned, as he quit opening the door and turned to face me. "It's alright, nothing and no one is going to hurt you. I swear."

His hands were on my shoulders and he was bent over looking into my eyes. He had such beautiful green eyes. Impossibly emerald. Could a monster have such beautiful eyes? Of course he could! Isn't that how vipers paralyze birds? With their beautiful, sparkling eyes?

"Alright, look," he said, as if seeing my panic. "I'll take you wherever you believe you'll feel safe. Just name the place and we're gone, right now," he said, then he looked at the mark on his wrist. It looked exactly like mine. "Damn thing. I don't blame you. What the hell is this? Do you know where these marks come from?"

Looking back up into his emerald eyes, I shook my head as I trembled.

He sighed and straightened up, "Neither do I. You know, when I first heard about these, I was only a boy. Perhaps ten, maybe. They made it sound like it was magical and wondrous, but I didn't think it was anything like that. It scared me, and pissed me off that someday I would get a mark, and that would be it. My life would be chosen. Never mind if I had already found someone, or I didn't like the person chosen." He stopped and looked back down to me, and with a shrug said, "I'm sorry. I... it's been a long day."

"No, it's alright," I heard myself saying, wondering at the same time if it was alright. "I just — I mean, I just lost my Oma, and like you said, it's been a long day. Maybe we could sit for a while. If I feel uncomfortable, you'll take me ...?"

"Wherever you want to go," he assured me.

I didn't want to bring those men into my clan's life. I could go to Sean and Mal's place, but those men had guns. So, I nodded my head and straightened up.

He nodded in return and then opened his door and we went inside.

To say that the space that opened before us was luxurious is a flagrant use of an indulgent adjective, and perfectly accurate.

Luxurious in a minimalist design, which felt at once pristine and inviting. Long sectional couches, one tan, the other off-white, were puzzled together in the center floor, with long black lacquered tables to each side. No curves in the furniture or carved legs. No decorative embellishment of any kind. But on the dining table there was a vase with a short leafy bow of quaking aspen. The round, deep green leaves drooped from the curve of the branch to accent the room.

The room felt as though you could be yourself, it wouldn't hamper you in any way. There was nothing to break or damage or spill on, which couldn't survive the event. Yet it was all alarmingly expensive; elegant simplicity.