Cold. So cold. Here you were being dragged through the blizzard by two masked men, the bell on your wrist dinging mockingly with each step. These men were paid by the Queen of Flame Dragons, that much you know. And that bell on your wrist was a gift from your husband Blizar, the King of Ice Dragons. A way of ‘keeping you safe’ because he would always hear it. Well, seems to be a load of crap now that you’re being dragged against your will with no rescue in sight!

”This one’s pretty. Say we have a little fun ‘fore dumping the scraps to the monsters in the forests.”

That sentence made your stomach churn violently, and while you did your best against them, you weren’t exactly a dragon yourself. Simply human. Who took a rock and smashed one of the attackers upside the head. But that didn’t get you very far. Clawing out and crying as the dagger began to rip your clothes. It was only then that you heard a deafening roar and a giant shadow cast over the snow.

“GET YOUR FILTHY HANDS OFF MY HEART!!!!”

With a bellowing roar, Blizar crashed into the snow, sending the two attackers straight into the trees before he ducked down to help you up. Examining the injuries you sustained up closely.

“My love, I’m so sorry I’m late. They should never have been able to lay a single finger on you. Does it hurt?”