Page 44 of Red Fire
I’ve watched a million shows about the various species all over the world. My dad still loves to watch documentaries. We watched David Attenborough every Sunday. My favorite were the animals in Africa. My mind keeps going to one of the deer species. During the winter months, the males work hard to impress the females. As the rutting season reaches its peak, males will fight each other for the right to breed. These fights can end in death. Only the strongest, most impressive males end up procreating.
“Why don’t you take turns fighting for me?” I push out. “Make it more structured.”
“That’s what we intend to do. We will fight,” the other guy says. The one who wants to share me. His eyes are on Tank when he says it. They narrow. His jaw tightens.
Share me.
I shudder at the thought, but quickly school my emotions. “No, I mean that you all fight one-on-one, and the strongest male gets to keep me and mate me. Not here, somewhere more suitable. This,” I gesture around us with one hand, “is chaos. There will be endless fighting. I will end up dead. There are no two ways about it.” I mean every word. “Whoever wins in the end wins me as a mate. It’s the only way this will work.”
What am I saying?
I don’t want that at all.
I also don’t want to be trampled or torn in half, which is what is going to happen soon if I don’t do something. I don’t want to be shared around, either. I need to buy time to figure out an escape plan. My biggest wish is that Creed is alive.
“Tank will win. We would rather take our chances,” the green-eyed guy says.
“Two of you will die. A third will cart me off. Those two dragons,” I look at where we can hear them approaching, “will go after you. More are on their way as we speak.”
“I’ll form a team with them.”
“Only until six or eight more attack the three of you. I will be killed, and none of you will get to claim me. It will happen. Mark my words. If you fight in a structured way, you will stand a chance at winning me. There is no chance right now.” There is a screech from above us. There are more dragons circling.
Crap!
“I don’t know.” He sounds skeptical. “If we are a group of four or five, we might be able to—”
“You won’t!” Tank says. “She is right. The female makes a good point. I can’t mate and breed a corpse, and neither can you.”
Tank has released his grip on me somewhat. I elbow him and step away. Tank doesn’t try to stop me. I have him thinking.
“I will watch you all fight. I will accept the overall victor,” I tell them. “A male who will have proved to me that he is the strongest and most deserving of getting me as a mate. I will willingly accept him.”No, I won’t!
Oh, Creed! Please be alive. Please!
The other guy doesn’t quite look like he’s buying it.
Two more dragons step into the clearing, and both of them shift. They’re big; not as big as Tank, but huge.
“Hand the female over or die,” they say in unison.
“I agree with the female,” Tank says. “I think that fighting in an organized fashion until one of us wins is the most logical way to go. It’s what we used to do. It’s tradition.”
“I’m not convinced,” the other guy says.
“Are you afraid to fight me?” Tank goads him.
“No…that’s not it.” He sighs. “Fine. We spread the word. The victor gets to keep her and do with her whatever they deem fit.”
They’re speaking about me like I’m an inanimate object.
Tank grunts in acknowledgment.
“There will be those who will not agree. Those who are not capable of logical thought,” the other guy says.
“We kill any who stand in our way,” Tank says. “We will fight for the right to have the female!” he shouts. “One on one. The victor gets to keep her.”
More dragons are circling above us. They know that we are here. They know that I am here.