Saving Azeroth (By Stealing the Black Dragon Princess) - 13

Chapter 13: The Princess's New Pet

Dustwallow Marsh's twilight shrouded decaying deadwood and stagnant pools in gathering darkness. The air hung thick with pungent sulfur and rotting vegetation that coated the throat. Onyxia spread pitch-black dragon wings that blotted out the dying sun, circling low before landing thunderously on the rock platform at her lair's entrance. Her scales gleamed with lava-like crimson luster in the sunset's afterglow, dragon eyes burning like twin golden suns as they swept over the dragonkin and whelps rushing toward the sound.

"The Princess returns!" A massive dragonkin guard dropped to one knee, a rough voice carrying genuine awe that bordered on worship.

Whelps excitedly flapped undeveloped wings, surging from all corners of the lair with shrill hisses that rose and fell like discordant music. One particularly reckless black whelp suddenly twitched its nostrils, vertical pupils locking onto Deren standing beside Onyxia—the human was covering his nose and mouth, clearly suffering from the swamp's overwhelming stench.

"Snack!" The whelp shrieked joyfully, powerful hind legs propelling it forward as it lunged at Deren with open jaws, corrosive saliva dripping from needle-sharp fangs.

Onyxia's pupils contracted to razor-thin lines.

The shriek of dragon claws tearing through air exploded like thunder.

The next instant, that whelp burst into crimson mist mid-leap, shredded meat and bone fragments raining into the swamp with wet, hissing sounds as they struck the acidic water. Onyxia's right claw hovered protectively before Deren, dark red dragon blood dripping from her talon tips and corroding small smoking pits in the stone.

The entire lair fell into deathly, suffocating silence.

"Listen carefully, scum." Onyxia's voice emerged terrifyingly gentle, yet her draconic aura pressed every dragonspawn prostrate like crushing physical weight. "This human is my pet." Her tail slowly coiled around Deren's waist with possessive deliberation, lifting him to eye level as though displaying prized property. "Whoever dares touch a single hair on his head—"

Her claw thrust violently into the rock wall beside them. The entire lair trembled from the impact, loose stones cascading from the ceiling.

"I will tear them apart exactly like that."

Deren hung suspended in midair wrapped by dragon tail, yet his face wore a composed, almost amused smile. He even straightened his blood-splattered collar with casual dignity, nodding courteously to the terrified dragonkin assembled below. "Good evening, gentlemen. I am Deren, responsible for handling certain special business matters for Her Highness."

An elder dragonkin tremblingly raised his horned head, voice cracking with fear. "P-Princess, Lord Deathwing ordered that no humans enter the lair under any circumstances—"

A low draconic roar rolled from Onyxia's throat like distant thunder. The dragonkin's face immediately flushed crimson as though invisible hands strangled his thick neck. "If my father inquires, inform him I am training a new toy for my personal amusement." She flicked her tail with practiced elegance, gently depositing Deren on a protruding rock outcropping, scales grinding together to produce shower-like sparks. "Now, clear the eastern cavern immediately. Cargo shipments will arrive shortly."

The dragonspawn hastily retreated with terrified backward glances, tripping over themselves in their haste to obey.

Onyxia snorted with cold satisfaction, transforming to her high elf form and grabbing Deren's collar to drag him deeper into the lair's shadowed recesses. "Acceptable performance, pet." Her pointed ears trembled slightly with residual anger. "These creatures have grown increasingly lax during my absence. They required reminding who truly rules this domain."

Deren allowed himself to be dragged along, lips curving higher with each step. After turning past a deep ravine that exhaled sulfurous fumes, he suddenly lowered his voice to barely audible levels. "Did you notice? The dragonkin guard in the third row—his eyes kept wandering toward the shadows rather than watching you."

Onyxia's steps halted immediately. "My father's spy."

"Possibly." Deren spoke unconcernedly, brushing dust from his sleeves. "Even if he reports everything back, it changes nothing. The Black Dragon Princess tired of noble political games, occasionally changing her entertainment—hardly noteworthy behavior."

The Black Dragon Princess's eyes flashed with genuine appreciation. She suddenly pressed Deren against the scorching rock wall with surprising force, the dragon claw deliberately scraping his cheek while leaving five smoking charred marks on the stone beside his head. "Pet," she scolded loudly enough for hidden ears to hear, "you retain some marginal usefulness for now. Do not anger me, or I will throw you to the whelps for their meal!"

In the distant shadows, something seemed to twist and slither, then disappeared into deeper darkness.

Once she was certain no more secret surveillance remained, Onyxia waved sharply. A shadow barrier silently enveloped the inner lair like descending night. Dark red light from embedded crystals danced across stone walls, illuminating her sharp profile in contrasting light and shadow.

Deren crouched on the ground organizing items he had brought, metallic clinks particularly crisp in the suddenly silent space. Without looking up from his work, he said casually, "Add soundproofing enchantments to the barrier? I would prefer not being awakened by whelps gnawing bones at midnight."

"Quiet, human." Onyxia's fingertips ignited black flame, yet she delayed casting the additional spell. Her dragon tail swept the ground uneasily, scraping fine sparks against rock that briefly illuminated her troubled expression.

Deren finally sensed something genuinely wrong, setting down his fur sleeping bag with deliberate care. In the flickering firelight, he observed the Black Dragon Princess's rigid posture—the dragon who had been imposingly confident before Baron Revilgaz now had fabric at her shoulder blades tightening with each controlled breath.

"You are worried." Not a question.

Onyxia whirled suddenly, dragon eyes contracting to two golden lines burning in darkness. "I tore apart a whelp! Right before your eyes!" Her voice carried strange draconic hissing that betrayed genuine emotion. "Yet you can still casually arrange your belongings and prepare to sleep as though nothing happened?"

Deren methodically wiped dust from his hands with a velvet cloth, then laughed softly with understanding. "I see." He walked forward with measured steps, boot sole crushing a charred bone fragment left by some forgotten meal. "You believe I would scream and flee? Or perhaps kneel begging the Black Dragon Princess for mercy ?"

Onyxia's fingertips burst with cascading sparks, illuminating her slightly trembling pupils. She realized with alarm the human had approached too close—close enough to see shadows cast by her scaled eyelid patterns, close enough to smell dragon musk.

"You dragons always employ violence as your primary calling card." Deren spoke without judgment. "But it proves effective and delivers the fastest possible lesson. Watching teaches nothing—experiencing teaches everything. I feel remarkably safe now."

"So?" She heard the hesitation in her own voice and hated herself for it.

Deren suddenly reached out with audacious confidence, fingertips brushing her falling black hair that felt surprisingly soft. This bold action made the Black Dragon Princess's blood freeze—theoretically she should incinerate this impertinent hand to charcoal and ash, but some unknown emotion kept her frozen in place like a statue.

"So I conclude your lair's interior decoration displays excellent taste." The human's fingers finally stopped at a glowing crystal embedded in the wall, tracing its faceted surface. "Using high-purity energy crystals as ambient lighting? Far more extravagant than Stormwind's wealthiest nobles could ever afford."

Onyxia's dragon tail cracked a stone stool corner with a violent slap that sent fragments skittering. "I am not requesting decorating advice!"

"What you truly want to ask is—" Deren suddenly leaned dangerously close, warm breath brushing scales on her pointed ear with disturbing intimacy, "Will this human think I am merely an uncivilized beast?"

The light in Onyxia's eyes dimmed momentarily, revealing vulnerability she never showed. She realized her claws had already grasped the human's vulnerable throat, yet his pulse beat steadily beneath her talons, infuriating her.

"You know something?" Deren even retained the composure to adjust the company badge pinned at his collar with infuriating calm. "Civilized or barbaric distinctions are ultimately meaningless. What matters is your position. You standing on my side represents the greatest righteousness possible." He suddenly grasped Onyxia's scaled wrist with shocking boldness, guiding her talons to touch items from his spatial bag. "Look at this luggage. I came prepared to make this my new home. Your home is now my home as well."

The Black Dragon Princess's fingertips unconsciously caressed this human's personal belongings—worn clothing, writing implements, and cooking supplies. She suddenly realized this marked the first time any human had dared actively guide her claws to touch something—rather than trembling in desperate avoidance.

"I witnessed many things in my apocalyptic vision, far beyond your imagination." Deren released her wrist, retreating half a step to spread his arms in open vulnerability. "But from that night at the Valley of Heroes, my fate became inextricably bound with yours. Either we live together or die together. Of course, I strongly prefer we become the pair who laugh last while standing over our enemies' graves."

Onyxia's dragon eyes dilated visibly. She suddenly recalled that desperate night being coaxed by this scrawny human into a mutual aid agreement witnessed by an irritating bronze dragon. Though dawn had arrived successfully, unknown fate still caused anxiety and fear she refused to name.

"Smooth talker." She finally snorted coldly with affected disdain, black robes surging like night fog as she turned away. But Deren keenly noticed her tail tip curl upward in satisfaction, swaying lightly as though pleased despite herself.

Deren's face showed a knowing smile that reached his eyes.

Morning light slanted through the lair entrance, illuminating floating dust motes like shattered gold drifting through air. When Onyxia opened her eyes from restless sleep, the first sight was Deren with his back toward her, sitting on a protruding rock while laboriously gnawing black bread—the thing was hard as slate, each bite producing teeth-aching crunching sounds that echoed through the cavern.

She frowned with displeasure, suddenly realizing her lair lacked even a decent dining table, let alone food remotely suitable for human consumption. Deren could only subsist on the meager provisions he had carried himself.

"That is what you eat for breakfast?" Her voice still carried morning hoarseness, with draconic throat tones heavier and rougher than usual.

Deren turned with breadcrumbs still clinging to his lips. He casually wiped them away with the back of his hand, smiling without complaint. "This beats Westfall tree bark by a considerable margin. At least no sand is mixed in. After experiencing good living in Booty Bay, I never expected to revisit wilderness survival conditions again."

Onyxia's tail coiled unconsciously with agitation. She recalled centuries ago flying over Elwynn Forest, observing human farmsteads from above—skeletal farmers kneeling in scorched earth desperately digging for grass roots, indeed appearing no more dignified than her dragonkin slaves.

"I can dispatch servants to purchase proper food from Theramore..."

"Unnecessary." Deren broke off a small piece of bread, crumbling it thoughtfully between his fingertips. "You know something? Years ago in Westfall, three other refugee children and I survived together in the wilderness. But one was torn apart by gnolls who used him as their main course, and another died eating poisonous mushrooms we misidentified. Only the third child and I survived by gnawing tree bark and eating insects."

He casually scattered the breadcrumbs into the small fire, stirring brief flames. "So now eating my fill with actual bread already represents tremendous profit."

The lair suddenly fell terribly quiet except for crackling flames. Onyxia discovered her claws had deeply embedded into the rock wall without conscious thought—she had clearly witnessed countless bloodier scenes throughout her long existence, yet her mind continuously flashed unbidden images of young Deren desperately surviving in the wilderness. This inexplicably irritated and disturbed her.

"Overly sentimental." She suddenly stood with sharp movements, black robes surging like dark storm clouds. "Tonight I will order those outside creatures to gather fresh fruit for the lair—those stupid dragonkin require periodic fruit consumption anyway for digestive health."

Deren blinked with surprise. "Is that an order, Your Highness?"

"That is notification of operational changes." Onyxia's pointed ears flushed slightly pink. "After all, starved pets cannot properly adjust fertilizer formulas or maintain productivity."

As the Black Dragon Princess strode purposefully toward the outer cave with exaggerated dignity, her tail tip secretly swept past the black bread still clutched in Deren's hand. A precise, controlled fireball spell flashed briefly, that stone-like food suddenly becoming warm from inside out, its texture slightly more palatable.

Deren looked at his suddenly upgraded breakfast with dawning comprehension, then at Onyxia's deliberately aloof retreating figure, and suddenly laughed aloud with genuine delight. He deliberately spoke at a volume she could easily hear, "Dragon breath toasted bread... this skill would definitely generate profit running a breakfast shop in any city."

The small fire on the ground suddenly surged three feet high with explosive force, thoroughly reddening someone's smug, grinning face.