The walk to the freshwater stream behind the Iron-Wood Manor was an agonizing, humiliating ordeal for a man who had once commanded the crushing depths of the ocean.
Caspian stumbled over the uneven, root-choked dirt of the forest floor. Every step his new, fragile human feet took against the jagged stones and fallen pine needles sent sharp, blinding spikes of pain up his calves.
He was shivering violently, his pale skin completely unaccustomed to the crisp, cooling air of the surface evening.
A few paces ahead, Zarek marched in absolute, deafening silence.
The Dragon Alpha purposely kept his strides slow and measured, reining in his massive, predatory speed so the crippled mortal dragging himself along behind him could keep up.
Zarek didn't look back. He didn't offer a hand to help Caspian over the large, mossy logs. But he also didn't let the surrounding forest predators anywhere near them, his heavy, suffocating draconic aura acting as an impenetrable shield.
