a/n: Masters of Skies speak in commands. That's why Drakkon always says: "You must..." or "You will..." They don't make requests.

LUCKY

I feel power under my hands. Not my own, but the dragon's. His shoulders are bulky with muscle. They're tense. Loaded with adrenaline that I fear he'll unleash on the men that are running away.

There is filth between our bodies, and so, so much disdain.

When we can no longer hear the men's retreading footsteps, the dragon fills the subway with his own. He's taking me up the stairs, away from my home. I'm carried across the road. It's hard to see any buildings or cars anymore.

The darkness has taken over the city. This time, literally.

It's been a crazy day. I lost my sister, got kidnapped, and watched two dragons rip apart the sky as they warred. The only thing that remained constant during this erratic day is the fucking cold. I can't stop shivering. Meanwhile, this monster walks naked like the king of ice. I guess it's fitting for him to not be phased by the cold. Cold is the aftermath of death, and he's so used to killing.

I wish it would get colder. Maybe that way I'd forget about the hands that are cupping my ass and keeping me pressed against this monster.

He stops walking and scans something before us. After a minute, he sets me down, only to shift and pick me up in his claws. He escalates us to another rooftop, quickly kicking the door in.

I'm drained. I ran and burned through too much adrenaline today that attempting to escape doesn't even cross my mind. To form a strategy, I need to bid my time and gather my energy.

The dragon leaves, and I sit on the icy floor of this abandoned building.

"Fuck."

That's all I have left in me. A sleepy, pathetic, harmless, curse word. I didn't have enough food today to put me through all this bullshit.

I'm tired of being dragged around by the over-grown lizard. He either needs to kill me, or let me go. I have things to do, like becoming maggot food or packing my things from the Colony and re-locating with my sister.

I wake up with a sore neck and a grumpy stomach. The dragon is back. He holds a sack and two metal buckets of water.

He drops the sack, and an apple rolls out. Fruits are delicacies nowadays, especially in the winter. I have no idea where he got this from, but I'm biting my pride as I pick the apple up and bite it, too.

My stomach clenches happily as I shovel food into my mouth. The dragon watches, the buckets still hanging from his fists. Steam rolls out. The water was just boiled.

I finish the apple and gingerly fish another one from the sack. He stands there like a predator.

I swipe a hand over the back of my mouth and get down to business. "Do you understand my language? What do you want from me? Why are your people doing this to Earth?"

He might understand English. After all, he has been stalking humans for years.

"You will take your clothes off. Now."

I was not prepared for his guttural undertones. It's like his voice became smoky from all the fire he has breathed.

I bite my tongue. I've had to fight off plenty of raunchy men in the underground who thought they could coerce me into sex, or that I would prostitute myself for a meal. They only got pain. These skinny arms of mine could pack a punch, and I was always smart about traveling long distances in groups.

Unfortunately, the male that stands before me, demanding my nakedness, is far from being a malnourished, horny loser with an unwashed dick. He's not a human I can punch, but a predator that gets what he wants.

I can't fight this man off, even if I traded my soul for it.

"Let's negotiate."

My mom used to be an attorney. During the apocalypse, she used her skills for trading. I learned a few things along the way. It comes down to confidence. Even if you only have the spit in your mouth to offer in a trade, you must sell it with certainty.

"I'm looking for my sister. If I give you what you want, will you let me go unharmed and stop chasing me?"

"You will take your clothes off. Now," he repeats.

Fear. No. Confidence. Fear only recedes. It doesn't bring progress.

"I asked you a question."

He crooks his head, as if computing my stubbornness. "You will explain yourself."

I inhale deeply, and quickly let go of that breath when my stench crawls up my nostrils. "If I sleep with you, will you release me?"

There is no hesitation. "Yes," he answers."

"O-oh..."

I don't know why I'm surprised. This is what I wanted, isn't it? A deal with the devil.

I stand up. His crimson irises catch my bravado on fire, and my confidence melts. With my eyes shut, I reach for his pelvis, where I know his disgusting member hangs.

My belly convulses as vomit threatens to burst from my lips. I purse them, because neither vomit nor cries can escape me today. I will take whatever he gives me— pain, flesh, humiliation, fear. I will take everything, but I won't give.

I just need to escape to my happy place. Just like I did when I was five and an adult tripped me to make me dragon-bait. Like I did when my mother shoved me and Daisy under a car and never came back. Like when my Colony voted to stone Cannibals to death, and I didn't speak up. Like when I stole antibiotics from a dying man because Daisy had a deadly infection. Like when I looted a freshly dead corpse. Like when I traded vinegar, promising it was water, for a can of beans.

I'm neither a victim nor a criminal. I'm just a survivor. If prostitution needs to be added to the list, then so be it.

For Daisy.

Warm fingers snare around my wrist, stopping me before I can touch him.

"Do not touch me, filthy one."

This man becomes more confusing with every exchange. I don't understand his resistance. Does he want me to bathe first? Is that what the buckets of water are for?

My lips twitch with confusion. "You promised that if I sleep with you, you would let me go."

"I did no such thing. You asked if you would be released if you slept with me. The answer is yes, I would give you much release."

I shake my head. "What?"

"Your people's language is confusing, but your body is not. I know where your pleasure points are."

Oh, damn. This is now how I expected this to go. The guy thought I was asking him if he had the skill to make me orgasm, and with a straight face, advocated that he could rock my world a second time.

My horror, confusion, disgust, and discomfort ball up in my belly. The urge to vomit surges again.

"Then why did you ask me to take my clothes off?"

"To wash the filth off you."

"If you don't want sex, what do you want with me?"

He pushes a bucket toward me with his foot. For the third time, he repeats, "You will take your clothes off. Now."

I know I need to clean up. My cut isn't deep, but it needs to be washed.

My eyes wishfully examine the buckets. The steam reaches for me like a sinful temptation. Water is so scarce nowadays that we use small amounts to bathe. We can't indulge in two buckets a day. This creature won't buy my favor with the comforts he offers, but I can't deny them.

I feel like a traitor as I reach for a bucket. "Will you turn around?" I grumble, my embarrassment and humiliation becoming one.

"You will explain what you mean."

Is he serious?

"Turn around so I can undress."

The dragon blinks. "What does it matter if I observe?"

"I need privacy. Humans don't walk around naked like your kind." I'm unable to keep the disgust from inking out of my last words.

His head crooks again, and I can't help but hope that it falls off his shoulders.

"Fascinating. I was convinced humans wear cloth to protect their puny skin from the elements."

I have no interest in explaining modesty to him, so I stare expectancy. He turns around, and I quickly strip off my filthy clothes. There's no soap, but there's plenty of water. I remove the bandage. There's little blood on it, and no signs of infection.

After fifteen minutes of scrubbing, I'm free of grime.

"You will open the sack. There is cloth inside."

I find oversized, ripped jeans and a man's t-shirt inside. I quickly pull them on and drown in the material. There's no coat, so I have so slip back into my muddy one.

"You must hurry. We need to go." He says, his eyes on the window. "The others are coming."

"Others?"

He turns and rolls his shoulders. "The others Masters of Skies are coming for you, and I have no desire to share. You are mine to keep."

"I'm a human," I whisper. I'm a person. A being deserving life and freedom.

He steps closer, his hand reaching out and latching onto the back of my neck with enough pressure to hold my head in place.

"I am aware of what you are, and that is why none of this makes sense. I should be murderous at the sight of you, but there is only confusion and an odd appetite to rut you."

"I—"

He lets me go and returns his eyes to the window. With a deep inhale, he declares, "we will go now. They have arrived."