The Swill wasn’t exactly the type of place where Kurt usually liked to frequent, it was hardly the place one could kick up his boots and relax, but it was just the sort of tavern that Kurt needed at the moment. At places like The Swill a traveling man like himself could easily blend in with his bar stool and the surrounding drab walls. Blending in was not something Kurt did well under the best of circumstances. This weathered little shack was the center of the village of Bale, and it suited its rough clientele; consisting largely of local fishermen and miners. Both the tavern and its occupying villagers were rough edged, grisly even, as godforsaken as it was possible for a poor soul to look and Kurt- well Kurt simply was not. He was slight for a man of twenty, unmarked by pox or scars, and not to mention pointed eared.

He did not look like a boy who had spent his early years scratching out a life on the edge of the sea.

Kurt couldn't suppress a shudder at the reminder of the very thing he’d sat himself down in this little dirt-hole to forget. The nearness of Dragan aig�an could be nothing but unsettling and the constant fear was getting to him. He wanted a cup of spirits to settle his nerves, clear his mind, give him time to formulate some sort of a plan. Yet despite the warm cup of mead in his hands he was unable to shake the cold chill that crawled over his skin. Unable to help himself Kurt cast a wary eye toward the only window in the tavern, a small square hole left unshutterd to pull in a breeze strong enough to clear away the foul musk that tended to permeate the place. He watched the swelling of blue black waves just over the sill and his mouth pulled into a tight frown.

The Dragon Sea was the largest body of water in the Shael. It split the world between the Dragan people- if those monsters could be called people- and the humans sandwiching them in between the Dragan lands and the territories occupied by the Sidhe. Nobody in their right mind would want to live so close to either of the borders unless they were damn crazy or found they had no other choice.

The fishermen had to be where the prize fish were, and the miners were drawn to the caves in the Sherontoa cliffs where some of the richest metals in all of Shael were mined. Otherwise, anyone with half a wit tended to flee the border lands and colonize far further inland.

Kurt had more reason than anyone not to tarry so close to the Dragan's borders. He wouldn’t be there at all if not for his brother Finn, who had been tried and found guilty by the magistrate for laying with Baron Fabray’s youngest daughter; a crime punishable by death under normal circumstances. Finn had been spared hanging by the stroke of luck. He'd caught the eye of a visiting ship captain who had paid in gold for Finn's services as a bond servant.

A year ago Kurt's brother had been torn from their farmstead in Caladone to serve a seven year sentence on the sea. Three months ago Lady Quinn had borne a child out of wedlock at the convent in Varsil where she'd been banished by the Baron until after the child's birth. Kurt's parents had given everything, sold the farmstead and even their liberty to the Baron in exchange for enough gold to pay off the rest of Finn's sentence. If he was still alive Finn would have no home to return to but he would be a free man and the child at least would have her father.

The sisters had said the babe was a girl and that Lady Quinn had called her Beth.

Kurt's frown deepened as he felt the sting of tears in his eyes. He blinked them away and took another sip of his mead, though he disliked the sour taste it left on his tongue. His oaf of a brother should have known better than to tangle with a Lady. Hadn't Kurt warned him again and again no good would come of it? Now their home was gone, their parents were bond servants, there was a child out there who might never know her own family and Kurt was risking his life going the one place his mother had always warned him never to go.

The Dragan Sea was not safe for anyone, but it was out right deadly for people like Kurt.

“Can I get ye another?” Kurt turned from his gaze out the window to find a pretty tavern maid standing at his elbow. She was much closer then she needed to be, the low cut of her bodice showing off her ample curves. She made sure to give him an eyeful as she set another tankard before him with a thunk. Kurt offered the woman a pained smile. Even if the dark prospect of being so close to the Dragan weren't hanging over his head the display would have been wasted on him. He had never bothered with women, never joined Finn and the other boys of Caladone when they went wenching. It simply didn't interest him.

The young woman frowned when the pink and prim lips she’d been eyeing from across the bar remained pursed and the young man's eyes did not linger on her bosom as all the other men’s did. Maybe he was untried. He looked young enough to be a green boy, and so pretty too. She liked pretty things, she did.

“Will ye be needing a room for the night? The little room upstairs been rented but if ye be looking for a warm bed for the night, I know where a handsome young lad like yerself might be finding one.” The invitation couldn't have been missed even if Kurt were a half wit, which he certainly wasn't. The idea of laying with this woman, with any woman for that matter, filled him with nothing but distaste.

"No. I'm fine, thank you." Kurt pulled his mead closer and angled himself away from the woman, as clear a sign of rejection as he could manage without outright telling the woman to bug off. Unfortunately she did not take the hint. He heard her release a short sort of squeal, like the pigs they used to raise, and a sigh.

“Oi that's a pretty set of pipes ye've got. Ye’ve a terrible strange look to ye sir, if ye don't mind me sayin" remarked the persistent woman at Kurt's side. She regarded him with a quizzical glance of grey eyes that were not unlike Kurt's. He tensed beneath her gaze, willing her away. The last thing he needed was some silly girl drawing unneeded attention to him.

“I do” he snapped, unable to keep his irritation out of his tone.

“Oi I meant no harm lad. Not many folks I've seen look like ye is all, with them funny clothes and yer voice " the woman prattled on. " Ye sound like you could be Sidhe, set of pipes like that.”

Kurt reached up and tucked a lock of dark chestnut hair beneath the leather archers cap he wore, pointedly putting a pale ear on display. His ears certainly had a pointedness to them but no more or less than what might naturally occur with any normal man. Thankfully he took after his father in that regard.

"Sorry to disappoint you." Kurt really wasn't and he let it show, hoping the annoying wench would finally get the hint and leave.

The wench stayed put, her eyes continuing to give Kurt a thorough once over, and Kurt’s hands clenched tighter around his cup of mead. Despite the fact that he was covered nearly head to toe, he could not help but feel exposed. She probably didn’t mean any harm but just knowing her curious grey eyes were pinned on him made Kurt’s skin crawl and fear dance cold down his spine. If she didn’t leave him alone he would have to leave.

The wench had just begun gearing up to say something else when something happened, the very thing Kurt had been trying to avoid since leaving his home in Caladone. The torches flickered and dimmed as if blown by an unseen wind, almost going out before roaring back to full brightness. There was a sudden charge in the air, like that before a storm, and Kurt felt the light hairs on his arms raise as his skin broke out in goose flesh.

Kurt’s heart started to pound with fear.

A second later the tavern doors opened, letting in the scent of sea and ushering in several men in dark tunics with it. Every man and woman in the Swill fell silent. There were four of them, and they were clearly on some sort of mission. Of course they were, Kurt thought. The Dragan didn’t venture out of Dragan lands for nothing.

Kurt knew that these men were indeed dragons. They looked human with the appropriate amount of limbs and the correct shape, but that was where the likeness ended. The pigment of their skin varied in color but all of the colors were somehow richer than anything Kurt had seen a normal human being achieve. There was an otherness to their bodies that could not be explained but could not be denied either. The most telling clue was the rim of gold around each of their irises. No matter what their initial color they all bled into a thin rim of bright gold that ringed the black of their pupils.

Kurt’s mother had told him long ago that dragons could put a glamor over their eyes as well as their skin, making them look completely human, but these dragons had chosen not to. They wanted the humans in the tavern to know what they were dealing with.

Kurt’s flight instincts kicked into high gear, but he forced himself to sit still. The predators were in his camp now and he was a canny enough hunter himself to know that any sudden movement or hasty step away would simply make him the best target. His best chance was in camouflage. He would play possum and hope that these dragons finished their business and left.

They weren’t looking for him, Kurt knew that much. But if they found him he’d be in trouble just the same.

The curvy wench quickly left his side and ran to fetch the owner, a burly fellow with too much gut and a booming voice who nevertheless seemed rather intimidated by the four men in uniform tunics combing through his tavern.

“What business brings ye here?” the owner demanded with gumption that would have been impressive if not for the knocking of his knees.

Kurt concentrated on keeping his breathing low and even, ignoring the increasing chill in the room. While his mother had been alive she had told him all about dragons and what their presence did to people like him, but that had not prepared him for the actual physical sensation of ice creeping into his veins. Kurt was as close to an all out panic as he had ever been. Because if mother had been right, then the tingling going up and down his arms and the feeling of a hand closing around his throat could only mean one thing. At least one of these dragons was a Catcher.

Kurt’s breathing quickened as the feelings of hands around his throat only became more real. The cold sank beneath his skin, down into his bones making him feel as if all of his blood had frozen. He struggled to remember everything his mother had told him about Catchers and what to do if he ever came upon one. Soon he would begin to feel the burn of the coubien the binding, and if he could not somehow resist it, it would be too late. He might as well stand up and ask to be killed. Or worse, taken to Dragan lands in chains.
His mother had come from there, a long time ago.

One of the dragons, an older young man who appeared to be the leader, stepped forward and assessed the tavern owner with a cryptic gaze. There was a darkness to the pigmentation of his skin, an cat like slant to the shape of his eyes, eyes that were cold and dark but for the splash of gold in them.

“Tell me. Whom do I address?” the dragon asked breaking the silence that held the room in thrall.

Kurt was doing his best to keep his head down, to fight the urge to look directly at any of the dragon men but the sound of the man's voice sent a jolt of heat through his belly and suddenly he was no longer cold. A lazy heat was spreading through his body, master called to servant, and the heat swelled rushing through him and dissipating the chill in favor of burning fire that singed his nerves.

The leader was the catcher, the one whose voice had the power to rob the mind and body of will. The one who could catch him as easily as a sleeping butterfly and either crush him or drag him to a life of misery in chains. He couldn’t let it happen. Kurt fought with everything he had in him, shaking with the effort to ignore the unspoken call in the man’s voice. He bit into his lip until he tasted blood.

Sit still! Dammit do not move! Kurt ordered himself. For Finn, for their parents, for the baby who was alone.

“I’m Barel, milord, only Barel of Bale and I don’t want no trouble," the tavern owner mumbled, his courage crumbling completely beneath the dragon's cold gaze.

The dragon nodded and leveled Barel with an even harder stare. “Well met Barel of Bale. You may call me Wes, I believe that is simple enough for your human tongue. My fellows and I come from the republic. I assume you have heard of the republic?”

If Kurt weren't so busy fighting the urge to get up and throw himself at the mans feet he would have snorted. Who the hell hadn’t heard of the Republic of Free Dragons? The Dragan had been terrorizing humans and using them as fodder in their war against the Sidhe for centuries. About a couple hundred years back or so a group of dragons had broken away from the rest of the Dragan and declared themselves pacifists.They’d separated to govern themselves and did not take part in the feud of their brethren unless it was in defense of their own lands.

They were supposed to be peace keepers but a dragon was a dragon and everyone with a brain in their head knew you couldn’t trust a dragon. Kurt’s mother had told him of the true nature of dragons. He no more trusted them than he did the Sidhe. Both were powerful, both could be ruthless and both would use him if they discovered him.

“Aye, o’course I have,” Barel answered the dragon called Wes with a forced swallow.

“Then I’m sure you know we come with peaceful intentions," Wes said and it was comical how many patrons of the tavern turned to spit on that notion. All except Kurt. Kurt was still trying desperately not to move. Sweat broke out on his brow and Kurt grit his teeth. Despite his supreme efforts Kurt’s gaze inched upward and he caught the amused slant to Wes` lips.

“Ah. Then I won’t waste any of your time. I seek a man, a dragon like us. He would appear around the age that I do. Amongst humans he would go by the name of Blaine.”

A sudden gasp drew the focus of every eye in the tavern away from the four dragons in the center of the room and to the back where a kitchen boy stood clutching a tub full of empty tankards. Every eye except for Kurt’s, of course. He couldn’t force his head to turn away from Wes no matter how hard he willed it. It was everything he could do to keep his head down and to avoid direct eye contact.

Barel shot the young man a warning glare before turning back to Wes with a nervous smile that was convincing no one. “There’s no one by that name here.”

“Really?” Wes was clearly amused, Kurt could hear it wrapped up in the deep resonance of his voice- god damn that voice! The sweat beaded on Kurt’s brow trickled down his face, cold and wet against his flushed skin, as his head rose another inch higher.

“Then why does your young man over there smell like him?” Wes asked, and two of the other dragons with him chuckled.

“Only Blaine would try and pull something like this during his season” a dragon with bright flaxen hair whispered softly to his companions, too quietly for any of the patrons of the Swill to hear but Kurt heard it. Kurt’s hearing was a bit better than most.

The guilty flush on the boys cheeks was enough to let everyone know that the dragons had the truth of it, and the tense frowns on many of the other patrons faces intensified. Aiding dragons wasn’t a way to win popularity.

“Take him,” Barel wheezed, looking terrified, “but we don’t want no trouble-”

“Fortunate as my fellows and I would rather avoid a direct confrontation that could result in someone getting hurt” Wes smoothly interrupted what was sure to be a stunning show of bravery from Barel. It was clear that he was more than willing to throw the hapless boy to the wolves, Kurt could practically smell the sick terror rolling off the man, but Kurt had a problem of his own though.

The burn was molten now, and Kurt was visibly shaking. He was beginning to draw the stares of the people nearest him.

Stop it! Stop it, stop it Kurt!

Smiling, Wes gestured to the kitchen boy and watched as the young man stumbled forward on shaky legs.

“Whom do I address?” Wes asked the trembling young man.

“Jeremiah, sir. Most folks hereabout just call me Jeremy.”

“Well met Jeremy. You snuck our friend into a room upstairs did you not?” Wes asked and when Jeremy hesitated he added with a soft hint of threat, “It would not be wise to lie to me.”

“aye s-sir I did” several shouts of anger from the villagers in the tavern rose up in answer to this and the frightened young man hastily added, “I didn know he was dragan. He looked down on his luck and I....he....”

“Made you feel good?” The flaxen haired dragon filled in with a lewd wiggle of blond brows. There was more shouting and the air in the room had become down right dangerous. Sodomy wasn’t accepted at the best of times, but sodomy with the enemy was of course ten times worse.

The blond dragon man sniffed, flicking out his tongue as if to taste the tension in the air, and his brows furrowed in confusion.

“Don’t everyone get upset. It’s natural enough” he assured everyone “It’s his season is all. He’ll be looking for a rider.”

There was an explosion of protest and Barel struck the kitchen boy over the back of his head with one meaty hand, growling something about demons. Jeremy stumbled forward but it looked as if he was used to getting cuffed by the older man because the blow didn’t phase him, he scrambled quickly out of Barel’s reach to avoid a repeat. Barel looked as if he was going to keep at it, but Wes and the blond dragon stepped forward to block the boy and the burly tavern owner shrank back.

“Nothin happened” he insisted over the yelling of the villagers. “I ain a sodomite. I just gave him a room is all, that’s it. He gave me gold for it all I wanted was the gold.”

“Forgive us. My young friend here forgets that certain unions are considered unholy in your lands.” Wes’ voice cut through the roar in the tavern like a sharp knife, and Kurt wondered how his voice could command so much attention without yelling. Wes pinned his blond companion with a reproachful look, before turning his gaze back to Jeremy. “It is not in my friends nature to force his attentions upon the unwilling. We were mistaken.”

“Mistake or no I wants no more trouble! Yer done here boy. We’ve got no place for the likes of ye.” Barel growled at the cowering young man. Jeremiah paled and his shoulders slumped in defeat as the blond dragon gave a shocked gasp.

“He can’t-” Wes laid a hand on his companions arm and the younger man quited looking thunderous.

“That is of course your right as owner of this fine...establishment” Wes said with a sniff of disdain, “But I require the boys aide. I need his help in securing the man I seek. Perhaps he would be willing to slip a little something in his mead.”

Jeremiah let out a horrified gasp and began backing away crying “No no no I can’t. I won kill anyone. ’Sides, he‘s not even here, he never comes around until evenin’!”.

The other man’s loud cries reverberated in Kurt’s ears, almost louder than the pounding of his heart as he fought for his life. He strained against the invisible hands raising his head to look Wes head on, the invisible hands moving his arms to reach for the dragon. They were raising of their own accord, his head was moving despite every effort and he could taste tears mingling with the blood in his mouth.

A frown tugged at Wes’ lips and he sniffed the air. Head turning slightly as he considered something. And that’s when Kurt knew it was over.

He tried to leap to his feet as Wes turned toward him but the binding held him firmly in lock. He was trapped like a terrified rabbit, and Wes was looking directly at him with the piercing gaze of an eagle. The directness of the man's gaze was the last push the binding needed. Against his will Kurt’s muscles contracted and he wrenched his head up to stare into the dragon’s face. The rough motion tore a painful moan from his lips.

Black and gold eyes met terrified eyes the color of storms and sea, and Kurt silently cried surer than he’d ever been that he was about to die. The other dragons turned to see what had so captivated their leaders attention and one by one the villagers turned to look at him.

“Well. This is certainly unexpected” Wes mused, abandoning Barel and Jeremiah he made his way toward Kurt whose eyes followed his every movement. He couldn’t run though. He should have tried running the moment the dragan arrived. It was too late now, he was as good as glued in his seat.

How could you be this stupid! Kurt seethed inside. Move! Don’t let it end like this.

“You’re demihuman,” Wes heralded Kurt’s biggest secret to all and sundry, sliding into the seat opposite of him. Around them men had begun to slink out of the tavern, deciding wisely that whatever was about to happen they wanted no part in.

Barel shot Kurt an accusing glare, as if the dragons presence in the tavern was all his fault. The woman who had propositioned him earlier stared at him now with something like revulsion.

Kurt glared instead of answering. He knew full well that Wes could easily wring out of him whatever answers he wanted. He wasn’t going to make this enjoyable for him. Dragons might like to play with their food but this wasn’t a game Kurt wanted to play.

Wes had not immediately spoken the words that would finish the binding, condemning Kurt to a life of slavery, so he had to assume the dragon simply meant to kill him when he grew bored.

“You’re not very talkative” Wes noted with another amused smile as his three companions came to stand at his back. Kurt could smell them, smell their power and their strangeness and the terror they cause him only made his scowl deepen.

“Fuck you.” He wasn’t normally so rude, but he was about to die so the moment seemed to call for extremes.

The three men behind Wes all made varying noises of shock. Wes just seemed to get excited. He nodded as if Kurt had just offered him brilliant advice.

“Sidhe then, probably on your mother’s side judging by your ears” the dragon catalogued and the serving woman who had come on to Kurt started to whimper. Kurt understood her fear. It was everything he could do not to start sobbing. The Sidhe and the Dragan were mortal enemies. Everyone still watching knew they were about to watch him die.

If Kurt was going to die he wasn’t going to do it cowering. If Kurt was going to die he was going to use whatever weapon he had to hurt these people, and since everything but his tongue seemed to be frozen his tongue would have to do.

“Aye my mother was Sidhe, and she told me all about you Catchers!” He spat out, eyes burning with anger as he remembered his mother and the scars that had marred her otherwise impossibly beautiful form. “She told me all about what you filthy dikra do to the Sidhe you capture.”

The four dragons tensed, and Kurt took a savage sort of pleasure in the anger he could smell on them, but none of them moved to retaliate against the insult. Wes’ gazed on him with something confusingly like pity.

“I see” he said and Kurt knew that he did, he understood exactly where Kurt’s mother had come from and what Kurt was. “You know don’t you, that not all of the Dragan hate the Sidhe? Not all of us believe it is right to enslave a person against their will, to force them to breed in order to fill the ranks of our armies?”

“Spare me your speech on the ideals of the republic” Kurt barked impatiently. “You can’t tell me you don’t buy slaves, you can’t tell me you don’t breed them with humans to create soldiers. Everyone knows only someone with Sidhe blood can take you across the barrier between our lands and theirs.”

Wes’s gaze hardened beneath the accusatory tone. He nodded curtly and replied, “we buy slaves yes, but I assure you that every Sidhe living within the borders of Dalkinley stays by choice.”

“Who would choose to be a slave?” Jeremiah asked, showing more bravery than Kurt would have guessed he possessed.

“Once a Sidhe has been bound they can never return to their own realm. They are considered unlcean by their own people.” Wes explained looking back at the young man, “nor are they particularly welcome in the lands ruled by men. Some consider a kind master a blessing. They have freedoms with us they would never have with the rest of the dragan.”

“The demihuman have even fewer options” one of the dragons behind Wes added. His skin was rich and dark like soil, his eyes as dark as Wes` but for the bright ring of gold. “You were bred by dragons for the use of dragons. You are a valuable commodity so therefore you are hunted.The Sidhe see you as the threat you are, they would destroy you before one of the dragan has a chance to use you.”

The demihuman of Sidhe blood were safe with no one. Kurt had known that his whole life and yet the dark dragons words burned like hearing them for the first time, sitting in Kurt’s gut like bitter drink. The thing that got him most was how sad Wes actually seemed about it, as if the end of Kurt’s life and liberty was this unfortunately inevitable conclusion.

And that was just supposed to be it. Finn would never know he was a father, maybe never even return home. His father and Carole would spend the rest of their lives working off their debt to a selfish and vindictive man, never knowing what had befallen either of their sons, and all because the dragan thought they had the right to use people like pawns in a chess game.

Kurt saw his fathers face in his mind. He wondered when Burt would give up hope, when he would know that after all these years a dragon had found Kurt, or if he would hope that some other fate had befallen him. Bandits on the road, a fall down a steep cliff. Any death was better than the fate that awaited him.

Kurt licked his dry lips, swallowed down the brine of his tears and he pleaded. He hated himself for begging but he couldn’t let that happen, he couldn’t leave things this way.

“Please. Don’t…don’t bind me. I can serve you here.” Kurt winced at the way the words sounded, at the disgusted looks of the men who watched. Wes and his three companions looked equally appalled, but then again sodomy never had gained him many friends. But damn it all, he’d do whatever it took to get out of the mess he was in, even let a dragon use him. He’d do anything to get to Finn and make it back to his father. There had to be something these dragons wanted and...

Kurt’s eyes flew to the stairwell leading to the boarding rooms and desperate hope filled him.

“Blaine. The dragon you’re here after. He’s going to be able to smell you guys if you’re here when he gets back.”

That definitely caught Wes’ attention and seeing the route to escape, Kurt rushed on.

“Even if he didn’t there would be a fight here, it would get messy and you said you didn’t want a mess. If you told me what he looked like I could wait for him. I could bring him to you, wherever you like.” As Kurt uttered the words he felt dirty. He consoled himself with the thought that it wasn’t his business if this unknown dragon had gotten himself into trouble. It wasn’t like it was a human he would be leading into a trap, and never mind all that. What choice did he have? It was his life and the lives of his family or some dragon he didn’t even know, who probably owned a dozen slaves back home just like his mother.

Wes gazed at him for what seemed like eternity, his brow furrowed in thought. One of the dragons behind him, a pale skinned fellow stout of build and dark of hair, leaned down to whisper conspiratorially in his leaders ear.

“The elflings proposal seems quite logical Captain, given Blaine’s history of rash decisions and the resulting calamity.”

“Aye Trent, but will Blaine trust him?” Wes asked the group at large, the dark skinned dragon nodded.

“Blaine is at the peak of his season.The demihuman is part Sidhe, he may be naturally drawn to him.”

“Is he enough Sidhe to attract Blaine?” The one called Trent asked loudly and Kurt felt like someone had punched him in the gut. These guys wanted him to seduce this Blaine fellow? The thought made him ill, but if it got him his freedom. He could do that. He could do just about anything.

“This far into his cycles it won’t matter. He’ll be looking to get saddled by just about anyone” the blond dragon who also appeared to be the youngest said, “I mean he trusted bush head over there.”

If Kurt weren’t currently waiting on the four of them to decide whether they were going to enslave him or not he might have laughed. The kitchen boy did have rather unfortunately out of control tresses.

After a moment more of thought, Wes finally nodded. The dragon stood, towering over Kurt who refused to cry despite the relief washing through him like a storm as the hold on his body released and he slumped across the table.

“Very well then. You will wait here for Blaine.” Wes then turned to Jeremiah who flinched away, and instructed crisply, “You will point out which room is his. You will help him however he requires and no harm will come to you or anyone else. If you do not we will return and we will burn this place to the ground with everyone who happens to be in it. Is that understood?”

Jeremiah nodded as Barel let out an furious gasp..

“You sir. If any harm comes to this man I promise you, I will enjoy killing you very slowly. Is that understood.” Wes warned the man and he cowered. The dragons eyes had taken on a hungry sort of glow as they watched Barel. His tongue flickered out as if tasting the terror that wafted off of the man.

“Is that understood human?!” Wes snapped and this time Barel managed to nod.

“Very good then.” Wes` face split into a satisfied smile, a complete turn around from the bestial mask he’d worn only a moment before and he turned back to Kurt.

“My companions and I will be ready at the pier in three nights time. Be there with Blaine at the stroke of midnight.”

“Why midnight?” Kurt asked and the blond dragon laughed merrily.

“Because Wes likes to put on a show and three past noon doesn’t sound as exciting.”

“Hush hatchling.” Wes grabbed the young dragons arm and began leading him away. “You’ve caused enough trouble for one day.”

“Aye. I told you not to bring him. Can’t bring this one out of the nest.” Kurt heard the one called Trent say as he followed them. The dark skinned one lingered for a moment, staring at him with his black, fathomless eyes and Kurt stared back, missing whatever reply the blond dragon had for his companions.

“We have not bound you” the tall dragon man in front of him reminded Kurt. “We have allowed your freedom in exchange for your service. If you fail you will leave us no choice but to hunt you and bind you to us. We can’t allow you to walk away, there is more at stake than you can possibly know.”

“Aye, I’m sure there is.” Kurt nodded his tone dark and droll. Of course they would, because it would never occur to them that maybe they didn’t have a right to demand favors from him to avoid a life of slavery. It would never occur to the dragan that there was much at stake for Kurt too.

TBC