Sweet Venom – Rebroken

You deserve better than the way she treated you.

 

Her twisted voice echoed through his head, the sickening similarity between what was once was, but wrought into something new. He both did and didn’t recognise her.

For what it's worth, dad. You did well by me. None of this was your fault.

He tried to find comfort in her words. They were the only things keeping him going right now…

But words could only do so much.

 

Geralt was sat on the far side of the living room, wedged into the corner of their second-hand sofa. He teased the tie of his tatty grey dressing gown through his fingers absent-mindedly, distracted. 

 

He was staring, as though entranced, at the flames of their small electric fireplace. The bright but soft reds and oranges flickered and shone in his dull, grey eyes, and was currently the only source lighting up the dark room. Across from him, at the window, the curtains had been drawn, but not completely. The cold, artificial glow of the space station’s Sun-Lamp had been switched off some time ago, and the pitch blackness outside curled and threatened to slip its way through the cracks in the window, and envelop him. That gentle flicker of the fireplace however, kept the void at bay.  

 

Just on the other side of the hall, in the kitchen, Geralt could hear the others. Pots and pans clattered across the kitchen surfaces and cupboard doors slammed open and closed as Tivy, Trent and Oxyi put the washing up away after dinner. He could hear girls chatting, but their words were muffled through the living room door, which Geralt had pushed-to when he came in. He wasn’t sure how long ago that’d been. 

 

And so, he simply continued to stare, far into the flames, completely lost in thought. He didn’t acknowledge any of the noises around him. Perhaps couldn’t acknowledge them…

 

“Geralt!” Oxyi suddenly popped her head around the door and Geralt jumped. He struggled quickly to sit up straight, and dragged his gaze away from the fireplace to meet the lioness’ as her warm voice floated around the room. The flames flickered a lingering, inviting red in the corners of his vision.

 

“Y-Yes?”

 

“I’ve been calling you for ages!” Oxyi chuckled lightly. Her eyes briefly glanced over his attire; that was the same pair of pyjamas he’d been wearing for the last, four, five days now? And that dressing gown had certainly seen better days. Hadn’t it been blue when they’d bought it? 

 

“We’re, uh, we're having some cake for dessert.” Oxyi glanced away from Geralt and back over her shoulder, towards the kitchen. “D’you wanna piece?”

 

“What kinda cake?” Geralt asked. Despite himself, he felt the tiniest tug at the corner of his lips - as if he even had to ask.

 

“Chocolate!” She grinned. It was always chocolate.

 

“Alright, just a small piece for me though.”

 

“A small piece, of course.” Oxyi’s grin teased into a cheeky little smile as she padded softly back into the kitchen. She was greeted by the sound of more clattering, of porcelain scraping across porcelain as presumably a new set of plates were pulled out of the cupboard, and placed on the counter. 

 

“D’you want cream?” Oxyi called out.

 

“Of course!” Geralt did his best to call back.

 

He slumped back down against the sofa and slowly, purposely shifted his gaze past the fireplace, and towards the window. 

 

Venner and Robin had gone to bed about an hour ago. Seeth had been gone on her latest job for a couple of days now, and wasn’t due back until tomorrow at the earliest. He was sure she’d told him what her latest contract was (or maybe it was the one before?) but either way, he’d be damned if he could remember any of what she’d said, and he hated asking anyone to repeat themselves, just for his sake. 

 

The microwave started beeping, drawing Geralt out of his thoughts as the door was *clunked* open. The girls laughed and more cluttering scraped against Geralt’s ears, but the sound was quickly replaced with Tivy’s over-excited voice as they served up dessert. 

 

Tivy entered the living room first. She came bounding through the door holding her plate precariously above her head. On the plate sat a massive slice of chocolate cake. She hopped up onto the armchair across from Geralt, and curled up underneath the throw rug. As Oxyi and Trent followed her into the room, it quickly became clear that Tivy’s slice was easily twice the size of everyone else’s. 

 

Trent sat down on the floor, in front of Tivy. He positioned himself in such a way that even though he was leaning back against the armchair, he could still see her. Oxyi sat down on the other side of the sofa with Geralt. She fidgeted about with the two bowls of cake and cream in her hand, and awkwardly passed him a spoon through her fingers. 

 

“We warmed it up, should be just how you like it.” She smiled. 

 

“Thanks.” Geralt went for a smile back - and almost managed it this time.

 

No-one spoke for a few minutes. They were happy to sit in a comfortable silence, enjoying their desserts, but also the calm of one another’s company. Geralt glanced across at Tivy as he chewed on a sticky mouthful of cake; rather than using the spoon Trent had so kindly offered to her, she chose instead to shovel large handfuls of cake and cream into her mouth with her fingers, leaving crumbs all over her blanket in the process. 

 

“So, uh, did you make this cake or buy it, because it tastes really good.” Geralt asked, pushing another spoonful into his mouth.

 

“Nope, it's home-made! Me and Oxyi baked it this afternoon!” Tivy smiled wide and proudly, showing everyone the chocolate buttercream stuck to her teeth.

 

“Oh, please!” Oxyi laughed. “I didn’t bake shit. I just stood around and reached things off the high shelves for you!”

 

“Ooh look at you, little Chef Tivy!” Trent teased, gently moving to tickle her feet. Tivy squealed and curled away, tucking her toes safely underneath her legs. 

 

“She’s a good cook!” Oxyi exclaimed. “Maybe one day you’ll get your own TV show!”

 

“Hmm, Soups with Tivy maybe?” Trent laughed.

 

“Meh meh meh meh, Soups with Tivy I’m so funny!” Tivy mimicked Trents voice, adding a deliberate, mocking, high-pitched squeak. She lurched forward with a grin and shoved her half-eaten cake in front of Trent’s face.“IS THIS SOUP, TRENT?! DOES THIS LOOK LIKE SOUP TO YOU?!”

 

“We have had soup five times this week, and it’s only Wednesday!” Trent sassed back.

 

“CAN YOU BELIEVE THE NERVE OF THIS GUY!” Tivy gestured dramatically, but also quite seriously, around the room. 

 

“You do make a lot of soup.” Geralt teased softly. Oxyi tapped him gently on the wrist, but she was smiling too.

 

“Geralt, you have no right to talk about anything cooking related. I still remember that sorry excuse for a casserole you made years ago.” Oxyi pulled a face. “I haven’t been able to stomach casserole since!” 

 

“I’m surprised you’re sticking up for Tivy, Oxyi.” said Trent, as he started to pick at the crumbs on Tivy’s blanket. “The state she leaves the kitchen in, that we have to tidy up! Maybe your show would be called World’s Messiest Chef’s instead!”

 

“I’m not that messy!” Tivy protested with a pout, her antennae twitching.

 

“I don’t know, Tiv, you’ve got like, seven different cooking aprons? And there’s at least five in the laundry basket right now.”

 

“BE QUIET, TRENT!” 

 

Oxyi looked back over at Geralt as Tivy and Trent continued to play-fight.

 

“I used to love casserole. I swear you were trying to poison me, trying to get out of paying me or something!”

 

“I’m not smart enough to be that cunning.” Geralt replied lightly. “I should be good at cooking, that’s the worst part.”

 

“Yeah, didn’t you used to be a farmer?” Trent asked, just as Tivy slammed a pillow straight into his face.

 

“I did! Worked the land for, geez must’ve been over thirty years? And I still know nothing about food. Guess I’ll always be a pot-noodle and ready meals kinda guy.”

 

“I didn’t know you used to be a farmer!” Tivy piped up, half-interested in the conversation, and half-more-interested in the chocolate buttercream she was currently licking off her fingers.

 

“That’s how I know Oxyi, Tiv, didn’t I ever tell you?” Geralt sat back in his seat thoughtfully, tapping his spoon against his thigh.

 

“Nope!” Tivy replied cheerfully, drumming her fingers against the arm of the chair.

 

“Oh, well, it’s nothing particularly interesting.” Oxyi said. “Geralt was having some trouble with bandits on his farm, stealing and damaging crops but also taking bits of his farming equipment. Before he hired me to help, Geralt was up patrolling through fifty acres of land by himself, day and night with a sawn-off shotgun he couldn’t aim for shit!” Oxyi laughed and looked over at the feline warmly. “He was actually one of my first contracted pieces of merc-work after I left school.”

 

“You really did me a service there, Oxyi.” Geralt chuckled half-heartedly. “You sorted those kids right out. God, that must’ve been about five years ago now. Doesn’t time fly.”

 

“You should’ve reached out to someone for help long before me.” Oxyi continued. “If you hadn’t been so stubborn you wouldn’t have had to go through all that stress! And even then, it was only because Naomi rea-” Oxyi froze, and slammed her palm up to her mouth. Her face immediately blushed a deep red, and she dropped her gaze to the floor. Across the room, Tivy and Trent glanced awkwardly at each-other, then down at the floor as well. Geralt hadn’t moved at all, hadn’t reacted; he continued to sit, slumped in the corner of the sofa, gazing out into nothing.

 

“G-Geralt, I…” Oxyi made to try and apologise, but Geralt interrupted her.

 

“It's alright, Oxyi.” He replied calmly. He stuffed his hands into his dressing gown’s pockets, but not quickly enough for his shaking fingers to go unnoticed. “I-I mean, you’re not wrong! Staying up, all night every night, i-it was starting to drive me crazy!”

 

The group visibly relaxed as Geralt continued their conversation. Trent shifted about on the floor, as to face Geralt more directly. The flickering of the fireplace kept catching the corner of his eye. He fidgeted with his fingers as he tentatively opened his mouth to speak. 

 

“If you lived on a farm then… I guess you must’ve lived up around the outskirts of town?”

 

“Yep. Had a small cottage right on the edge of the forest. Was beautiful out there.”

 

“Yeah… Because you were… there before me and Tivy were, weren’t you?”

 

“There? What, d’you mean the dungeon? The Controllers?” Geralt asked, raising an eyebrow slightly.

 

“Yeah… sorry, I don’t know if it’s appropriate or not to ask, but it’s not something you really talked about, and…” Trent’s voice faltered, and with a sudden shake of his head deliberately looked away from the fireplace. 

 

“Would you… mind talking a bit about it, Geralt?” Oxyi asked, softly. She shifted a little closer to him on the sofa, but then addressed the whole room. “None of you have really talked about what that was like, or how it happened...”

 

Trent was suddenly very interested in one particular spot on their wood-laminate floor. He kept his gaze fixed firmly upon it, and ran his nail across the material. He said nothing. The small burst of confidence he’d had, and the need to speak about it, had gone. Tivy looked from him, to Oxyi, to Geralt and then back to Trent restlessly, as if unsure of what to do next. Just as Oxyi’s ‘oh shit, I’ve crossed a line here’ blush started to return to her face, Geralt sighed deeply.

 

“I was one of the first Marks that the Controllers… captured. I think in total, I was in the dungeon with them for around ten months.”

 

“Ten months?!” Trent spluttered suddenly, his head shooting up. “Me and Tiv were only there for about five!”

 

“Yep. I found out afterwards that the raid on my village was the first of the Controller’s co-ordinated attacks. They had about half-a-dozen Nodes, if that, and maybe a few dozen Slaves. It was just the three of them too; Moltezz, Leech and Seeth.

 

“I can still recall it all so clearly, that night. Me and my wife had just finalised our divorce. Of course, she’d tried to rinse me for everything I had, which wasn’t much, and she managed to make off with most of it. I was sitting in the living room of my little cottage, which was no longer mine. It’d been in my family for four generations, and I was about to lose it for some tiny two-bedroom flat in a dodgy neighbourhood. I couldn’t afford anything better, and that fact was eating away at me. 

 

“There were cardboard boxes all over the floor, and most of mine and Naomi’s stuff had been packed away. I’m sitting in my old armchair, cider in one hand, and a pen in the other, reading through the property sales contract in my lap for the umpteenth time. My wife had already signed it, and I couldn’t stop staring at those fancy, swirly stupid letters of her signature at the bottom of the page. I just sat there, I don’t know for how long, when suddenly, I could hear this commotion from outside. Now, I feel like I don’t need to go into too much detail as to what I saw exactly, you already know what Slaves can do…

 

“Anyway, I went up to the window, to see what was going on, and I see the three of them standing right there, outside my front door. I didn’t even get the chance to react. The door flew off its hinges and all three of them storm into my house. We had pretty high ceilings, and I remember being pretty alarmed at how close Moltezz came to catching her head on the wooden beams… god, I was a mess. My front door had been kicked in and I was worried about the intruder bumping her head…? I hate to admit it, but honestly, despite the commotion and the destruction they were causing outside… they could have knocked, and I would have let them in…

 

“I remember this… warmth filling the room, and Moltezz staring down at me with those bright, intense eyes of hers, and I just stood there. I was awe-struck. She’s got that personality that just fills out the space, throwing her arms out wide as she talks like she’s a gladiator or something. She was loud and… enticing. Her words hooked me.

 

“They talked amongst themselves, mostly, and most of what they said meant nothing to me at the time. They were saying shit I didn’t understand, calling me ‘Mark’ and such, but even an old coot like me managed to clock pretty quickly that… she wanted me. They all wanted me. I remember Moltezz saying that they’d finally found a ‘good-looking Mark,’ and those words lifted me.

 

“Then they started to argue. They argued over me! The woman I’d married hadn’t wanted anything to do with me in years, and now I had three gorgeous woman literally kicking my door down to try and sleep with me. Moltezz was insisting on having me to herself, despite both Seeth and Leech hissing at her - and Leech looked pissed… but all I felt was excitement. I mean, that’s the dream, right? I was giddy as all hell, under the fear I was just… bubbling with excitement. Felt like they blew the cobwebs off my life. I mean, I admit the sex itself wasn’t quite what I was expecting, but…”

 

Geralt sighed loudly, sinking deeper into the sofa. Tears pricked in the corners of his eyes.

 

“I really do hate to say it. But… I didn’t hate what they did. Not at the time. And I’m not sure if I do now. A violation of my home, my family, my life… sure, what did it matter? But to feel wanted again? To actually have something other than passive-aggression and malicious indifference? That was like gold-dust to me. They could have taken me, fucked me and killed me that night, and I would’ve died happy. I almost wish they had… Would’ve been a lot simpler.”

 

The rest of the group stayed silent for a few long, but not uncomfortable moments, letting Geralt’s words sink in. Geralt found himself quietly trying to choke back a mixture of tears and chocolate cake. Finally, Oxyi cleared her throat gently.

 

“Well I'm glad that they didn’t kill you, Geralt.” She reached over and took his hand. The others nodded solemnly in agreement. 

 

“What… what was life actually like, with the Controllers?”

 

No-one said anything for a few moments. However, Geralt’s story had ignited something in Trent; there was a pressure in his chest that he just had to speak, or he might just burst.

 

“W-Well, I became one of Moltezz’s personal Marks too, which is how me and Geralt met. Tivy sorta bounced between all of the Controllers, but spend most of her time in genpop -”

 

“- Genpop?” Oxyi asked.

 

“With the Nodes.” Tivy explained, smiling. “I think Leech and Moltezz actually quite liked me, but I was a little too small for them unfortunately!” A little giggle escaped through her lips, but she quickly composed herself as she looked around at Trent and Geralt’s sullen faces.

 

“Seeing Moltezz on Barru X… that was absolutely terrifying.” Trent continued, unfaced by Tivy’s outburst. “And the worst part? I wasn’t scared that she would kill us, or kidnap us and force us back into her service… it was that, if she had whistled, I would’ve gone running right back to her. Just the sound of her voice, ringing out across the station…” A long shiver ran down Trent’s back. “It was so hard to resist her.”

 

Geralt glanced over at Trent with a look of pain, but also relief. It wasn’t just him, he wasn’t the only one… 

 

“It was like pure ecstasy with Moltezz. It didn’t matter how tired I was, or how much I ached, how much I burnt, being with her filled me with a feeling that I hadn't had for… years. I felt desired, wanted, maybe even loved, a little. I… I…” Geralt started to choke and stutter over his words, and his hands shook violently. “I was there for weeks before I even remembered Naomi. It might have even been months. I just… woke up one morning and the reality of my situation just came crashing down on me. The bubble had burst; I’d lost friends, I didn’t know where my daughter was, and with the more frequent fresh hauls of Marks the Controllers were bringing in… I was too scared to ask. I was too scared to look. I felt so awful that I hadn’t even spared her a thought, in all that time…” Geralt couldn’t hold them back any longer, tears started to roll down his face. Oxyi shuffled closer to him and put her arm around his shoulders.

 

“They… are intoxicating.” Trent murmured. “The Controllers themselves are an addiction. Out of the dozens, maybe even hundreds of Marks in the dungeon, only us three and Diego were able to make it out. Most of them didn't want to leave and at times, more times than I’d like to admit, I didn’t want to leave either.”

 

Geralt shuddered a small nod of agreement. Oxyi looked around and, to her surprise, Tivy was nodding too. Out of the three of them, Tivy had seemed the most… okay, and coping well with their new life compared to the boys and what they’d left behind. You’re our positive little powerhouse, Tiv, Oxyi thought as she rubbed Geralt’s back gently. Don’t change. We can’t afford for you to change. 

 

She cleared her throat softly. “So… how does… all this work with Seeth? You seem to get on with her okay, but…”

 

“She’s a constant reminder of what we lost. And what we’ve left behind.” Trent sniffed. Tivy reached out and tentatively placed her hand in his, glancing over at Geralt as she did so. “It’s such a relief when she leaves - for me anyway, I don’t know about you guys… But just being around her, I get both anxious and really pent up…” Trent laughed dryly. “I’m so happy when she leaves, but then, I worry that she’s never going to come back, and… geez it makes me feel sick, sometimes.”

 

The word seemed to resonate with Oxyi; her ears pricked up and her eyes widened a little. “Have you heard her at night? Throwing up and stuff? It’s been happening for months, but lately she seems to be getting worse.”

 

“The corruption the Controllers have… I don’t know a lot about it, and as far as I know, they don’t either.” Trent said, gritting his teeth slightly at what he was about to say. “But I do know that the things they do, the rape, and the kidnapping, and corrupting those who aren’t immune… It’s not just this simple, evil, carnal desire. What Seeth is going through, I’d say, is basically withdrawal.”

 

“So if a corrupted czarite isn’t having sex…” Oxyi’s words trailed off. “God. She looks absolutely awful sometimes too! I thought it was just because she was missing Diego. I bumped into her one night, when I was going to the bathroom and her eyes were all puffy, her skin was all clammy and pale, and she had this look in her eyes… As I walked past her, she just stared at me with this sharp, hungry expression, before going into the kitchen.” 

 

“I’m sure she is missing him. And Plasia.” Geralt said, wiping his nose in his sleeve. “It’s not just that, though. And it makes me feel awful, y’know, after what happened with N-Naomi, and that stupid dungeon and-and ev-everything else… But I feel sorry for her. She’s clearly in pain.”

 

Nobody said anything for a few long moments. They all sat around, deep in their own thoughts, before Trent spoke up again.

 

“Oxyi, you didn’t know Diego, did you? Before he arrived to help you?”

 

“No, that was the first time I’d met him, why?”

 

“Because, well, he saved our asses, we can all agree with that. We wouldn’t have been able to escape without him. But… we let a complete stranger bring along not one, but two of our captors.”

 

“Plasia wasn’t really -” Geralt started to protest gingerly, but Trent abruptly cut him off.

 

“Being around her still triggered the same feelings, Geralt!” He cried out, suddenly. He balled his fists and his eyes narrowed. “Her eyes, her smell, her body! All he told us was to trust him, and that they were coming with us. And we just let it happen!”

 

“Seeth hasn’t hurt us, Trent.” Tivy said, her voice trembling with worry. “She’s clearly suffering, and not once has she asked any of us to help with that! She sits in her room, alone!”

 

“Just her being here is enough, Tiv! Don’t you guys get it?!” Trent shook his hand out of hers and stood up, running his hand through his hair. “Everytime I see her, I’m reminded of what I could be having, the sex, a-and Moltezz, and… oh fucking hell!” He put his face in his hands and his shoulders started to shake. 

 

“Trent, it’s okay.” Geralt said quietly. “I… feel the same sometimes.”

 

Trent took a few slow, shaky breaths. “Yeah?” He asked through his fingers. Tivy stood on the chair and gently reached up for them, and squeezed his hands tight.

 

“The truth is… despite everything… if Seeth came home, right now, and asked me to have sex with her, I’d do it in a heartbeat.”

 

Trent stood still in the middle of the room, still covering his face in his hands. But Geralt's words seemed to trigger some sort of release in him, and his shoulders relaxed. 

 

“I think we all would.” He whispered.

 

Oxyi dropped her gaze to the floor and moved away from Geralt. Now that she’d finally said it out loud, she couldn’t get that moment out with Seeth out of her head. That look of deep, desperate desire in her eyes… 

 

And in that moment she knew that, despite everything she’d been told, despite what her friends and family had been turned into, despite the very real, and very serious consequences… if Seeth, one night, were to ask her…

 

She wasn’t sure she’d still be here in the morning.

 

*

 

I have never put so much thought into eggs in my entire god-damn life.

 

Diego weighed up the two pastel-coloured boxes in his hands, shopping basket slung around his shoulder. One box held smaller, speckled eggs with a slight golden hue to their shells. The other had larger, with a gentle colourful twist to its earthy colour palette. Their flavours were similar but the larger ones tended to have a more distinct aftertaste, which could be carefully manipulated with a blend of herbs to bring a rich warmth to the palate of the taster.

 

Fuck it, lets go with the big boys.

 

With a gentle sigh, he placed the box in the basket and shuffled deeper into the shop. It was the third time this week Karen had sent him out for groceries, but despite the hour’s walk each way into town, he couldn’t complain. He loved being out of that house; that illusion of freedom, however brief, was one of the few things keeping him sane.

 

Not that Regalia Gardens was a particularly large town. Most of the shops were situated in what was called a ‘Neo-village,’ a term used to describe the hyper modern architecture that the Draconic Alliance favoured but on a smaller, village-like scale. Seeing the iceberg blue glass structures of shimmering silver in their small, quaint fashion had an odd charm to it. Usually, this type of design was reserved for monolithic mega-cities and towering skyscrapers that punched into the horizon, but this shop was a mere two story building, situated a comfortable distance away from its neighbours in the village’s centre. Each building had an oddly crystal look, as if each building was a jewel in a crown.

 

The shop was quiet; it always was. Diego could hear the soft giggle of the clerk behind him as she flicked through her phone, complimenting the soft trickle of the various water features that lined every wall. His ears twitched in anticipation as he headed further towards the back of the shop, where prying eyes might find it difficult to see.

 

The collar around his neck bleeped once, quietly.

 

He’s here.

 

Several aisles behind him, a metal door that read ‘staff only’ clicked open. A cautious set of footsteps padded towards him against the ceramic tiles, meandering around at first, not to draw attention. 

 

Diego waited at the back of the shop, looking over the shelves of glass casually until finally, the figure approached.

 

He was draconic, dressed in a blue shirt and black trousers, hardly anything out of the ordinary. He had a pair of long whiskers protruding from his snout which bounced as he walked. His eyes were sharp, watching everything around him closely.

 

“Sorry I'm late.” He whispered, his voice well-versed to speaking in silence. “Are you still interested?”

 

“Of course. Is the collar off?” Diego shuffled slightly away, plucking at more items for his basket.

 

“Yes. We’re faking its signature so all looks good from your handlers perspective, but they won’t hear a word until I depart.”

 

“Sweet. So, what's the plan?” Diego swallowed quietly, tapping his claws against the shelves.

 

“Two weeks from today, our transport will pass through the area. It will jam your collar as it approaches so you won’t need to worry about that, when is best to pick you up? Day or night?”

“Karen’s a heavy sleeper, so night time is best.”

 

“Can you make it to the road?”

 

“If the collar is being jammed, then yes.”

 

“Then be ready at the roadside for 3:30am. The transport cannot loop around or wait, you understand? If you’re not there at that time, you’re not getting picked up.”

 

“Understood. What about payment?”

 

“A man like you understands the debt of gratitude, all you owe us is your good favour. If you see any of my Solar Seraphim kin in need, aid them.”

 

Diego felt a buzz of excitement rush through his body; this was really happening.

 

“You have my word.”

 

“Then we will see you soon. Take care.”

 

The figure didn’t depart immediately; he continued to shop and casually mosy around the store.

 

Two weeks from today, Diego would be swept away on a transport ship and, if the Solar Seraphim were able to deliver, he would be released back into Nomad territory, firmly away from the DA border. He stifled his grin as best he could as he finished his shop and whisked the basket to the clerk with a definitive bounce back in his step.

 

“Hey, Diego!” She smiled warmly at him as he approached, her eyes quickly flickered up and down his body, before firmly landing at his eyes. “Do you want the usual along with that?”

 

“Hey! Yes please!”

 

She reached behind the counter and grabbed two thick, sweet treat bars.

 

“You know, you don’t look like the type to enjoy fruit and nut, I figured you’d prefer something with a little more… body.” She gestured towards his sabre fangs as she scanned his items through.

 

“Oh, they’re not for me.” Diego smiled back innocently, but his mind clearly elsewhere.

 

“That’ll be seven fifty-five please, handsome.” Her tail swished back and forth behind the counter as she held her hand out for him.

 

Diego popped the dies into her hand with a metallic jingle and stuffed the goods into his rucksack, ensuring they were safe and snug. He thanked her and quickly headed out the store, still struggling to contain his glee. 

 

Finally there was an end in sight! He wasn’t going to be here forever, working out a life sentence in the confines of the Draconic Alliance. The thought of being back with his girls, and the gang, and bringing an end to the corruption… It was all coming back to him, the thoughts that he’d not dared allow himself to think, feelings he’d not dared allow himself to feel. But now, his heart hummed for his two alien girls; every pulse was drawing him closer to them.

 

With every aching second that ticked by, he was that little bit closer.

 

The journey back to Karen’s house was a pleasant one, an unmarked path across those beautiful emerald fields, surrounded by fresh, snow capped mountains and lush trees. He stopped for a few moments, leaning against a tree to pull his shoes and socks off, then stuffed them into his bag too.

 

His first step onto the wet grass was a little kiss of freedom on his feet.

 

He couldn’t help himself, he broke into a run through the field, clinging onto the bag straps closely as the grass wet his feet, splashing dew over his calves. Tree after tree flew past him, the wind rushing through his hair, fresh air in his mouth. His heart thumped with a renewed strength in his chest, hot blood pumping through his muscles.

 

It was perfect.

 

Almost perfect.

 

The collar beeped quietly around his neck, its connection reestablished.

 

Ugh. Not quite free yet.

 

He slowed back down, as the field came to an end and connected with the road that led up to the mansion. He sighed loudly as the road crawled closer with each step, and eventually stopped again, to find a place to retrieve and put his shoes back on his feet.

 

I’m sure some part of me is going to miss the peace and quiet of this place.

 

Trudging down the road, the iron fence of the new neighbours began to appear on the horizon, surrounding their expansive plot with a black, spiked wall. He could see two figures working the grounds within, tending to the garden in an endless battle.

 

A sad, pained sigh escaped his lips.

 

Or maybe not.

 

Eventually, he drew close to the fence and the figures nervously looked around, ensuring they had a few minutes to spare before limping towards the fence.

 

They were an equine brother and sister, both with a chocolate brown coat and various white patches blotched across their body. They were both lean - leaner than they should have been - with the brother being the shorter and smaller of the pair. 

 

Diego approached the fence and pulled the rucksack off his shoulders, grabbing the two bars he bought out of the bag and passing them through the fence to the two waiting figures, who clasped at the food eagerly, passing the wrapper back to Diego before eagerly stuffing it into their waiting mouths.

 

“T-Thank you, Diego! I-It’s good to see you!” 

 

“You’re welcome, Katie. You both doing okay?” Diego’s eyes landed on her brother, who had a significant welt on his face and some faint bruising across his neck and shoulders. “That doesn’t look good, Darin…”

 

“I-It’s fine.” Darin replied sheepishly, rubbing his small hands across his neck. “A-As long as they’re hitting me, they’re not hitting Katie!”

 

Darin held up his skinny fists, boxing the air in front of him in a manner that suggested he’d never actually hit anyone before in his life. 

 

Seeing his cuts and bruises made the anger in Diego swell in his chest like fire.

 

“B-But thank you again for the food! W-We should go, before we get caught.” Katie nodded, giving Diego a warm, thankful smile before turning away from the fence, her shoulders visibly slumping as she guided her younger brother back into the grounds, supporting his slight limp the best she could.

 

Diego quickly padded away from the fence and continued back to Karen’s mansion, accompanied by a deep pang of discomfort that jabbed at his chest and limbs repeatedly, cold and uncomfortable.

 

As the gates to Karen’s estate rolled up, every emotion he’d felt over the last couple of hours merged and mixed uncomfortably in his stomach.

 

He’d be free soon, sure…

 

But they wouldn’t.

 

His ears flicked suddenly; he could hear a third party in the house. A high-pitched cackle echoed through the grounds, like a little giggling demon was loose in the mansion.

 

His hands subconsciously curled, as if he were clasping at a handle or a hilt, but hearing Karen’s voice continue the muffled conversation calmly at least confirmed it wasn’t an intruder. His shoulders relaxed slightly.

 

Almost there, Diego. Just keep calm. This is nearly over.

 

He approached the mansion by its curling metal gates, taking the meticulously groomed path to the front door and removing his shoes before entering.

 

“Oh, it sounds like he’s just come home, speaking of the little agelet!”

 

He didn’t recognise the voice, but it was the same person that made that awful laugh from earlier.

 

Diego wiped his feet on the mat outside, then gently rounded the corner into Karen’s impressive front room to see Karen and her visitor sitting on the seemingly endless L-shaped sofa within.

 

“Well well well! Just look at those fangs and ears! He’s very exotic, isn’t he? Goodness, you must have paid quite the sum for him! A coralith komodo… I don’t think I’ve ever seen one alive before.”

 

She was a taller dragoness than Karen, with a faint purple tint to her skin and a pair of beady eyes that seemed to perpetually stare you down, whether you were shorter than her or not. She was currently clad in a loud summery dress that had almost certainly come with an extreme price tag.

 

Karen quickly turned to face Diego and forced a smile.

 

“Diego! This is one of my favourite clients, Fairylin Thornscale. She’s moved in just across the road from us with her wonderful husband, I'm sure you’ve seen their stunning grounds already!”

 

Despite the forced enthusiasm in her voice being rather convincing, Diego could quite clearly see the desperate ‘help me!’ expression in Karen’s eyes.

 

“Pleased to meet you, Fairylin.” Diego smiled back as best he could, but he was feeling a strong dislike for Karen's guest immediately.

 

“Ooh, well spoken, too! Quite the find, Karen! I see you look after him too, look at those muscles! Do you have sex with him?” She asked with a blatant disregard, still staring at Diego.

 

“F-Fairylin!” Karen spluttered, her face flushing bright red in embarrassment.

“Of course, a silly suggestion. My apologies. There is no way a pure breed like yourself would ever allow a creature of his blood make contact with you.” Fairylin shook her head dismissively. “Must be something else. Still, for his kind, he is a bit of a looker. You must appreciate the eye-candy on the estate.”

 

“I-I guess.” Karen was struggling to maintain her professional persona; her eyes kept darting over to Diego who continued to stand at the door, flabbergasted.

 

“How much do you want for him?” Fairylin asked bluntly.

 

“He’s not for sale, Fairylin.” Karen laughed awkwardly. “You should put the shopping away, Diego. Then come sit with me for a bit, please.”

 

“Why not? If you just want eye-candy, there are plenty of hunks you can buy out there, for a much cheaper price! Name a price - name a species! I’ll get you whatever or whoever you want as a replacement.”

 

“I’m afraid I'm not looking for a replacement right now, Fairylin. Diego fits into my routine very nicely and his skills are difficult to find, so I am quite pleased with my current arrangement.” Karen spoke a little more firmly now, and shuffled forward on her sofa.

 

Fairylin flicked her fingers dismissively, but the disappointment was obvious on her face.

“If you say so.”

 

Diego quickly ducked off to put the groceries away, but listened closely as they continued their conversation.

 

“So how's things otherwise, Fairylin?”

 

“Oh, simply marvellous! I’m so glad you recommended Regalia Four to us. I do adore the smell of freshly terraformed air, and the grounds around us are just so humble!”

 

“Indeed! And I’m so glad you built your estate so close to mine! All these thousands of acres of land around us for the taking and you chose to live right next to me. We can see one another from our bedroom balconies!”

 

Diego stifled a snort from in the kitchen as the sarcasm in Karen’s voice slipped right under the radar.

 

“Of course! We can wave to one another with our morning coffee in hand! I just couldn’t bear to be apart from my number one event planner! Are you still holding that party at the end of the month?”

 

“I am, should be quite the turn-out!”

 

Diego finished putting the food away and made his way back to the front room to join Karen, sitting close to her on the sofa. Fairylin immediately locked eyes with him, staring at him intensely. Diego refused to back down, and stared right back at her.

 

“He’s got some fire in him, doesn’t he?” Fairylin grinned in amusement. “You know, if my staff looked a guest in the eyes, I'd have them disciplined on the spot. Would you like me to administer some corrective punishment, Karen?”

 

“N-No. I would not. Diego doesn’t need ‘corrective punishment,’ he is just… protective of me.”

 

“Ohhh! I understand now! The physique and the species!” Fairylin cackled loudly. “He’s your bodyguard! Goodness, you got quite the bargain there, with a bodyguard and a cook in one! Still, I had no idea you were so concerned with your personal safety.”

 

“B-Bodyguard? Yes! Bodyguard. Let's roll with that.”

 

“Well, Karen, I can say to your face that I'm quite disappointed with your lack of discipline and treatment of this…” She gestured dismissively towards Diego. “...man. But I don’t suppose I hire you for your choice in men, bodyguards or house-keeping. You don’t fuck him, you don’t seem to hit him, I can’t help but feel you’ve been ripped off for how expensive he was. But as long as he’s kept in check, I can’t say much more I suppose.”

 

Diego couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the mention of his expense, but didn’t say anything.

 

“Well, you know I've always appreciated your honesty, Fairylin.” Karen forced another professional smile onto her lips, and her hands clasped together firmly on her lap.

 

“The truth should always be our top priority, as friends and colleagues.” Fairylin smiled back. “And now, I can come see you every day! Oh, all the gossip I can share with you!”

 

“What joy! I’d appreciate the company. I might struggle to fit you in though! You know me, always working.”

 

“Ever the productive little dragoness, aren’t you?” Fairylin slowly stood and brushed herself down. “Well, I'd better get back to my estate. My husband will be home soon and he’ll want some relaxation, his job is terribly stressful you see. My wifely duties have no end!”

 

“So nice to see you, Fairylin. Pop by whenever you like!”

 

The taller dragoness gathered her belongings and departed from the room from her host, continuing her lines of derogatory small talk aimed at Diego and other non-draconics in general. The slam of Karen’s front door prompted a shared sigh of relief from both Karen and Diego.

 

“Oh, thank Chance. She’s gone! UGH! WHY DID SHE HAVE TO MOVE RIGHT NEXT TO ME?!” Karen pressed her palm against her forehead tightly. “Diego! Can you make me something sweet and heavy? I need some sugar, now.”