Princess Nadiya Azada waits in her crowded chamber, picking at a loose hangnail on her thumb until it bleeds. 

Today is the first day of the second phase of the experiments. She can’t shake the sick feeling swirling around in her stomach. The ludicrous idea was proposed by King Kazan himself, Nadiya’s father, to his royal court exactly seven months ago to the day. It was brushed aside as a mad man’s plan. The royal court laughed in the king’d face at the idea. She had thought that that day would be the end of his obsession. 

Today, with the threat of imminent war in the near future and in the face of the fall of the Azada family’s rule, it falls to action under the supervision of the king’s best scientists and doctors and dragon breeders. 

The first phase of the experiment-artificial insemination-had failed. Today begins the second phase. 

Nadiya lays in the dim lighting of the room, waiting. She glances to her right and sees her personal guard, Drakkari, standing watch with a crossbow. His job is to attempt to save her life if the experiment goes horribly wrong. They meet gazes and his mouth pulls into a thin line. She knows that he secretly strongly disapproves of this whole thing. They had discussed their own personal opinions the night prior in hushed whispers in this exact chamber, intertwined in Nadiya’s silk sheets. 

Today, Nadiya’s normally cozy bed is stripped and covered in a tarp made of animal skin. She lays back onto the soft material, her hands crossing over her thin dress in anxious anticipation. The doctors, scientists, and dragon breeders all bustle around her, speaking to each other in low tones. She strains her ears to eavesdrop, but struggles to make out exactly what they’re saying. 

Sikka’s faint screeches make Nadiya jump up into a sitting position. It’s almost time. She chews on the inside of her lip and runs a shaky hand through her long, emerald hair. Not that Sikka gives a shit what she looks like-he’s far more interested in what she smells like. It’s his nature as a dragon to be more persuaded by smell than looks. Part of preparation for this second phase of the experiment was for all the partaking women to abstain from showering and changing undergarments for one week prior to the breeding. 

The animalistic cries grow closer, and everyone rushes to get into place for the beast’s arrival. Nadiya had worked with training Sikka once before, a few weeks ago, to begin to create a sort of bond. He’s a young dragon, about the height of a medium-sized horse, and incredibly wild and unruly. She is just as scared of him now as she was when she met with him previously. 

The doors to her chamber burst open and Sikka barges in, his golden eyes flaring. He’s muzzled, and has multiple chains and shackles around his neck and limbs that are connected to several strong Dragon Handlers standing around him. They let him slowly stalk over to the middle of the room, curiously checking out his surroundings. He sniffs the air and his gaze fixates on Nadiya laying on the tarp in her thin dress. 

A sick rumor going around was that the Dragon Handlers would pleasure the young dragon while his face was wrapped in the princess’s dress, conditioning him to be sexually aroused by her scent. Nadiya didn’t like the thought of that. 

Sikka pulls the handlers forward and they all shout and stand their ground, attempting to hold him back. He lets out another frustrated cry and claws at the ground, his eyes still locked on Nadiya. One of the head doctors, Dr. Alkeroney, kneels by Nadiya’s side next to the bed. Her heart is pounding in her chest and she looks over at him with wild eyes.  

“Remember to relax, Princess. We’re going to do our best to not let him kill you.” 

“That’s fucking reassuring,” Nadiya snorts. 

“Remember, Princess. Relax. This is going to hurt either way, but hopefully the poppy drink that I gave you earlier will help. If you want more, just let us know. We won’t tell the king,” he says to her. Nadiya nods, unable to form words as she stares at the juvenile dragon rearing his head against the restraints. He is very obviously physically turned on by her and is fighting violently against the handlers to get to her. 

“Are you ready, Princess!? We can’t hold him off much longer!” one of the handler’s shouts to her. She inhales deeply and grabs a fistful of the tarp in her hands. She looks over at the crowd of men standing watch beside her bed. 

“Yes. You may proceed,” she says in false-confidence, turning back to face the beast with her chin high. She pulls her dress up above her waist to expose herself. 

The handlers let up on Sikka’s restraints, and he launches himself forward, mouth open behind the cage muzzle and claws outstretched. 

The last thing that she remembers before blacking out is the pain. 

An explosion of burning fire in her veins. 

Everywhere, all at once.