Chapter 9 - 009: Dragon and chaos...
The dragon’s hand tightened around Anaria’s throat.
Pain shot through her neck so fast it barely felt real at first just pressure, brutal and crushing, followed by the sharp, instinctive panic of a body realizing it could not pull in air. Her nails dug into the dragon’s wrist as she kicked against the torn ground, vision jolting with black sparks.
This was bad.
This was extremely bad.
This was... Anaria thought wildly..., a terrible way to meet Husband Candidate Number Two.
The dragon wasn’t fully awake. She saw that immediately, even through the blur gathering at the edges of her sight. His eyes were open, but there was nothing truly conscious in them only molten gold burning with feral instinct and pain. His body was still half-collapsed against the shattered boulder, blood pouring from the wound near his chest, but somehow that made it worse. Even half-dead, even barely conscious, he was strong enough to crush her throat like paper.
Rylan moved, he crossed the distance in a blur, grabbed the dragon’s arm, and tried to wrench him off her.
"Let go of her!"
The dragon reacted instantly.
His body jerked hard, muscles locking, and his grip on Anaria’s throat tightened instead of loosening. Heat rolled off him in a sudden violent wave, sharp enough to sting. The air in the clearing seemed to warp, pressure spiking so fast that Rylan cursed and dug in harder.
Anaria made a broken sound as the dragon’s fingers bit deeper into her neck.
Wonderful.
She was being strangled by a dragon while her first husband candidate tried to pry him off like a feral trap.
The system flashed into her vision.
[Warning: Target is in critical instinctive defense state.]
[External aggression may worsen heart-core destabilization.]
[Mission failure risk increasing.]
[If core collapse occurs, target death is imminent.]
Anaria’s brain, deprived of oxygen and operating almost entirely on panic, still managed to process the important part.
Stop fighting him or he dies.
Also possibly she died.
Great. Excellent. She loved having options.
Rylan shifted his grip, trying to force the dragon’s wrist away from her throat. The dragon gave a low, rough sound that didn’t even sound human and surged against him with another violent spasm. Blood welled faster from the wound near his chest. The pressure in the clearing thickened until it felt like the air itself was grinding against her skin.
No...No, this wasn’t going to work.
They couldn’t overpower this physically. Rylan forcing him only made the dragon more unstable, and if he destabilized furtherq, he might either crush her windpipe completely or drop dead before the system could wring more trauma out of her.
Anaria clawed at the dragon’s wrist, coughing uselessly against the hand at her throat.
"System" she thought furiously, "if you have any useful ideas, now would be the time."
A panel snapped up so quickly it almost looked startled.
[Host soothing ability currently insufficient to calm dragon-class target.]
[Emergency enhancement available.]
[Temporary system-assisted soothing boost may be applied.]
[Warning: high strain to host.]
Anaria could have cried with relief if she’d had enough air to manage tears.
"Do it" she ordered.
[Emergency boost authorized.]
Something hot and unnatural surged through Anaria’s chest, flooding her weak soothing ability with borrowed force. Her fingers spasmed against the dragon’s wrist.
Rylan was still fighting him.
"Rylan," she rasped.
He looked at her, alarm flashing across his face.
"Stop."
Whatever he saw in her expression made him freeze.
The dragon’s grip was still crushing her throat, but Anaria forced both hands around his wrist and pushed not physically, but with every scrap of soothing power she had. The system boosted it until it felt like her nerves were being flayed raw. Power rushed through her palms and into the dragon in a sharp, brutal wave.
"Enough," she rasped. "Calm down."
The dragon jerked. His grip tightened once, hard enough to make stars burst behind her eyes then faltered. The savage tension in him wavered.
Anaria pushed harder, throwing everything she had into the soothing pull.
"Sleep," she gasped. "Before I kill you myself."
His fingers loosened.
Rylan moved instantly, dragging her back as the dragon slumped against the shattered boulder and collapsed into semi-conscious stillness.
Anaria dropped to her hands and knees, coughing hard enough to taste blood.
Wonderful. The dragon had damaged her throat. What a charming introduction.
She spat blood into the grass and dragged in another shaky breath.
Rylan crouched beside her immediately, one hand braced at her back, the other gripping her shoulder.
"What were you thinking?" he snapped.
Anaria coughed again and glared at him through watering eyes.
"Currently," she rasped, "I’m thinking he’s still dying, so if you’re done yelling, that would be great."
Rylan stared at her like he couldn’t decide whether to shake her or drag her bodily out of the clearing.
The system cut in before he could choose.
[Target aggression reduced.]
[Emergency stabilization may now proceed.]
[Heart-core wound remains critical.]
[Without treatment, target death probability remains high.]
Anaria shut her eyes for one second.
Of course. Naturally. Because being strangled apparently wasn’t enough of an experience without immediately moving on to field surgery.
She forced herself upright, one hand pressed to her bruised throat.
System, she rasped inwardly. The herbs from Rylan’s treatment. The manual. Give them to me.
A pale panel flashed across her vision.
[Emergency stabilization required.]
[Remaining treatment herbs available.]
[Treatment guide unlocked.]
Instructions followed immediately.
Stabilize bleeding. Protect the heart-core region. Keep the target alive long enough to move.
Anaria turned toward the dragon.
Rylan frowned. "What are you doing?"
"Saving his life," she croaked. "Hold him down if he starts thrashing."
She didn’t wait for an answer. Pulling the herbs closer, Anaria followed the treatment guide and got to work.
The dragon was too large for Anaria to handle alone, and every movement made her throat throb, but once she started, she fell into the same steady focus she’d used on Rylan. While he lifted the dragon enough for her to work, she packed herbs into the wound and bound cloth tightly around it. The injury was ugly up close, but the herbs slowed the bleeding.
"Lift him a little more," she rasped.
"He weighs too much."
"Yes, tragic. Lift anyway."
Rylan shot her a look and obeyed.
Twice the dragon twitched violently, and both times Anaria pressed a shaking hand to him, using the last scraps of her soothing power to keep him from turning feral again.
By the time the final bandage was tied, her hands were trembling.
The dragon’s breathing had changed.
Still shallow and wrong. But steadier than before.
The system chimed.
[Emergency stabilization successful.]
[Target death risk reduced.]
[Condition remains unstable.]
[Relocation recommended immediately.]
Relocation??
Anaria stared at the unconscious dragon and almost laughed.
"Of course relocation was next. Because apparently this day wasn’t complete without dragging an unconscious dragon through the forest"
Rylan stood first and scanned the clearing. "We can’t stay here."
"Yeah" Anaria muttered, touching her bruised throat.
There was a shallow cave nearby, half-hidden behind broken stone and thick brush. Getting the dragon there was a nightmare.
He was enormous, Anaria was exhausted, and every use of her soothing power had left her shaky and drained. Rylan carried most of the weight, but even with her helping, the process was slow and deeply offensive to her patience.
By the time they finally got him inside and lowered him onto the cave floor, Anaria felt ready to collapse beside him.
The dragon lay motionless where they’d settled him, pale beneath the blood and grime, his chest wrapped in makeshift bandages. He was still badly injured, and still unstable enough that one wrong move could send everything back into disaster.
But he was alive.
Breathing and not strangling her anymore.
Anaria sank down against the cave wall and touched her bruised throat with two fingers, wincing.
Rylan stood a few feet away, arms crossed, glaring at the dragon like he regretted every choice that had led him here.
That made two of them.
Anaria looked at the unconscious dragon, then at the bandages, then at the dried blood all over her hands and dress.
This man had nearly crushed her throat out of his body on instinct, and somehow he had still ended the day as her responsibility.
Honestly, her life was becoming offensive.