Mina struggled against the ropes binding her to the bed. This was all a terrible mistake, and she needed to free herself before things went too far. She concentrated on her left hand, angling her wrist to try to reach the rope with her long fingers.
But the damned knots were too tight. She let out a string of curses, against the knots, the rope, the bed, the room, the women who had tied her down, and the fucking town that had let her be taken away to begin with. The whole lot of them could burn, as far as she was concerned.
Tired from fighting to free herself, she went limp and took in a deep breath. Then she remembered that was exactly what the accursed women had told her to do, and she became angry all over again.
How could they betray her like this? They were human too and surely understood her plight. But no amount of begging and pleading had worked. Not as they bathed her or brushed her hair or dressed her in three layers of short-skirted dresses. At least they had stopped trying to shove strange instruments inside her. She had kicked and scratched and bit, making sure none of them touched her between her legs.
How stupidly triumphant she had been when they gave up, only for them to truss her up and haul her to this giant hall reeking of rotten eggs and unnatural warmth. It had taken six of them to tie her down: two sitting on top of her, and one each for her arms and legs. She wiggled her right hand now, to see if this knot were any looser.
It wasn't. She shook her head and huffed, blowing a thick ginger curl out of her face. In all her struggling, her braid must have come loose. She knew she looked quite the sight, her hair frizzing about her face like a fiery halo. It was the same she'd inherited from her mother, before the fever took her, before her father abandoned her, before the village boys found her.
She shook her head again, chasing away the bad thoughts. She'd survived one night of horror already, and that should have saved her from this one. Mina had tried to tell the town council that she couldn't possibly be a fit bride for a dragon, because they were known for lusting over maidens. But they had spouted some nonsense about her being selected specifically by the dragons themselves, as ludicrous an idea as one of them penning a letter politely requesting her hand in marriage.
Could dragons write, she wondered? Could they even speak? Would the dragon she'd been given to even listen to her when she tried to explain? Or would he just mount her like the beast that he was?
She shivered, suddenly cold. Hopefully he'd be able to tell she was unfit for him by smell alone. She'd hate for him to realize only after he'd taken her. How angry would he be, thinking he'd been tricked into accepting a ruined woman like her?
She shivered again, feeling a sudden chill in the air. Where was it coming from? There was no wind that she could hear, no draft in this dank place.
Suddenly she heard footsteps. Human footsteps! Had one of those women taken compassion on her and returned alone to free her?
Mina lifted her head, straining to see. There! The outline of a tall figure walking slowly toward her. Was it... a man?
She shivered a third time. There were only women and dragons in this place, she knew. What in the hell was a man doing here? A bud of hope sprouted in her heart; he might be here to rescue her! But what kind of fool would do that and risk breaking the uneasy peace between her people and the dragons? Unless....
The man's face came into focus above her, with pale yellow hair and ice-blue eyes. He must be older than her by some years, she realized, as his beard was full-grown over his sharp cheeks. His features were eerily handsome, and he reminded her of old tales her mother had told her from the north, of frost and ice and snow.
It was certainly much colder now. But she tried to smile politely, as though she weren't tied spread-eagle on a bed in the middle of a dragon's lair.
"Hello," Mina said. "Are you here for me?"
The corner of his mouth twitched. "That I am, my dear."
She ignored the endearment. "If you would just untie me, I'll do whatever I can for you as thanks."
He grinned, flashing his teeth. "I'll have what I want from you
before
I untie you."
She fought against the scowl that was forming on her face. Was he really implying he would fuck her as payment for rescuing her from a dragon, before he'd even done the rescuing? She gritted her teeth. It wasn't like she had any other options.
"Whatever you want, you can have it. But let's leave before we get caught."
His smile deepened, and a chill raced down her spine. "You seem to be mistaken about who I am, little human. I'm not here to save you. I'm your husband."
She bit back a snort. Clearly he was human, a blazing mad one at that. "Fine," she said. "You can have your way with me first, as long as you untie me afterwards." She'd follow him out whatever crevice he'd used to sneak into this place.
"It's good that we agree on the order of things," he replied. "But to be clear: you won't be going anywhere, my bride. This is your home now."
"Like hell it is!" she snarled. "I'm not even supposed to be here!"
He cocked his head quizzically. "Why would you think that?"
"Because --" she stammered, "I'm -- I'm not a virgin. Everyone knows dragons want maidens for brides. But I'm not one, so I shouldn't have been chosen!"
This train of logic seemed to amuse him. "A simple misunderstanding," he said smoothly. "Dragons want unwed young women as their brides. Whether they have known a man or not, it makes no difference. A human might care greatly about his bride's virginity. But all a dragon needs in a mate," he concluded, "is that she bear his young."
Mina shuddered. Was that what the dragons were truly after, in demanding her people offer them brides? Could they really procreate with human women? She didn't want to find out.
"Look," she said, exasperated, "I don't know who you are, but --"
He put a frigid finger to her lips, silencing her. "My name is Niklas. And as I said, I am your husband. Now," he continued, "I'm going to claim you as my mate."
A small whimper escaped her. Whoever he thought he was, he had no intention of freeing her. And when her real dragon husband found her already used....
"That's a terrible idea," she said, trying to sound calm, rational. "Dragons are very possessive. If he finds out you so much as touched me, it'll be over for you."
He flashed a predatory grin. "That would be true if you weren't my bride. But you are, and as you rightly point out, we're quite possessive of what belongs to us." He crouched down next to her, whispering in her ear. "And you, my sweetling, belong to me."
His breath was cold on her skin, and she shuddered once more. "I don't belong to anyone!" she snapped.
"Fret not," he replied, standing, walking to the foot of the bed. "For I also belong to you. Now hold still."
She opened her mouth to say she would do no such thing, but then his chilly hands reached down to her ankle and began untying it.
