Asena escaped to her quarters and flopped face down on the bed. After tossing and turning, she decided to face the dragon lord just to escape the Eros safe house. Maybe the outing would provide her access to a computer that hadn't disabled the uplink port. In a few moments, she could piggyback any network. Even the internet would do. She'd stored up a cache in the dark web before she left home. All she had to do was trigger it.

Of course, Zane was thrilled with her change of heart. He assured her she could reject the dragon once she met him if she had good cause. It'd 'cause an upset', but he would handle the rest. But she didn't quite trust him.

She mulled over whether to share this news with Duma, but he might gossip. As is, Zane pulling her away had aroused Bebi's suspicion. Now she had to go on a date and make small talk. It was all so exhausting. She longed to retreat into her shell to recover.

Instead, she found Duma and asked for help to find suitable clothing. The Eros stylist would force her into something unseemly.

Duma had a million questions as to why she wanted to dress up, which she couldn't answer. She should've taken the easy way out, and repeated what she'd worn for the stupid photoshoot.

But he went through the extensive wardrobes Eros had on stand by, and found her a pantsuit, and a short jacket with loose sleeves. She liked the high waist and flared legs of the pants too. It was too masculine for Europa's tastes, but she preferred it.

"The dress is—" Duma said, offering her a more 'feminine' option.

"Nope. This is perfect."

Asena preferred form over fashion. True to her species, she abhorred tight garments and walked around barefoot most of the time. Papa's old hoodies, t-shirts, and sweatshirts that reached her knees were her favorites. She even took off her shoes or sandals before entering her home and office. No one cared how she dressed, else of all, her.

To spare herself from any embarrassment, she refrained from wearing heels. Even Bebi was struggling to walk in them.

'You don't need heels to embarrass yourself. Just be yourself. That does the trick,' Moggie chuffed.

Kas, the resident stylist, was not happy with her selection. Yet he didn't protest, only suggested she remove her scratched, bulky anklets and bangles. Instead, he brought out a set of solitaires. Wearing white cotton gloves, he handled the neckpiece and held out the clip-on earrings.

As the stylist tried to snap one on Asena earlobe, she stepped away and hissed at him.

Zane grabbed Kas's wrist. "Never try that again. Do not touch a cat's ears without permission, period. Even the tiny ones are capable of clawing your eyes out." He glanced at her and huffed, "canines!"

Various Feline species had different thresholds for social interactions. Temperament played a role too. Asena's was non-existence since she was a kitten. She left to wander the grounds, wondering what attracted a dragon to her. It couldn't be her photos. She looked terrible in them—all skin and bones, even sickly pale.

'Irrelevant. He'll lose interest. Tea with you will do the job.'

Dracos were a secretive subspecies that usually mated within their breed. Worse, they were never very fertile. A formidable sect, they never sought to grab power but supported the Olden Ways. Ikaus and Rianwing's alliance with the Romulus, Remus, and Romanovs created the longest ruling dynasty in Europe until the Berserkers targeted them to break the Old World Creatures' chokehold on the continent. Two dragon sects were rendered extinct. The Pillage of Fafnir's drakōnpit destroyed their clutches. That was all she recalled from her Middle Ages history classes, because of a quote that stuck with her.

'I tainted my hands with blood and yolk of unborn innocents. For that crime, I lost my sight and line. For my crimes, my name dies with me. The punishment is fitting.'

These were the words of the Berserker who founded the New World in Americas, her real homeland.

Nessi called it karma. Papa preached 'you reap what you sow'. Yet 'do no harm' didn't guarantee no harm came to you. And dining with dragons was a recipe for disaster.

'Forget the lore. Aligning with a dragon does not bring us any closer to finding Vic, does it?' Moggie reminded her.

She agreed. The so-called assignation had a foregone conclusion. That didn't change there would be talking involved. She didn't date for a reason.

Asena crossed her arms and pouted.

'The hyena is rubbing off on you. Stop being so dramatic. You have enough experience rebuffing an admirer.'

Moggie yowling echoed in Asena's skull. A mix of cuffs and snorts, her beast's attempts at mimicking laughter devolved into a coughing fit.

The idiot still hadn't accepted that cats could not laugh.

Offended, her beast retaliated.

Asena's stomach roiled. She leaped off the mattress and ran into the bathroom to throw up as if to spit out a hairball. "Not fair," she groaned.

She rinsed her mouth before brushing her teeth. Her reflection, with foam running down her chin, reminded her of home. At the age of four, through the open window, she'd heard war drums playing in Vic's home next door. Her mom, Nessi, had some tapes, and later Asena downloaded MP3 files of the sounds and songs of the Savannas.

The beats made her body move to their rhythm. She'd play them and dance while brushing, and left a mess. Fed up, Papa had laid down the law. She had a separate t-shirt to limit the dried toothpaste stains and had to wipe down the washbasin and mirror.

'You'll dance again... On the bright side, at least during the tryst, there won't be any witness of you making a fool of yourself.'

After a hot shower, Asena pulled off the duvets, blanket sheets, and pillows to build a nest under the bed frame. Cocooned under the linen, she tucked her limbs into a ball.

Back home, the experts concluded Shifters' mass migration from all over to new ecosystems had resulted in large-scale anemoia. Their beasts suffered from a yearning for a past they had never experienced. It was farsickness, from inherited instincts for their old countries. It hadn't afflicted Asena. True, it's music made her happy, but that was all.

Nor did she suffer from wanderlust. She was a hobbit, happiest in her burrow; the Shire was enough for her. Also, she had no illusions of saving the world and she often doubted Vic needed saving either. This ill-fated endeavor was more to to retain her sanity, not risk it further.

'I am telling you, Vic is in trouble. I know it,' Moggie repeated for a millionth time.

Her beast's instincts were why they were on this misadventure.

Dragons had no role in her story. There was no evil ring or magical stone to steal from a hoard; birthright or castle to reclaim, and need for dramatic heroics to protect the village or the world. She only wanted answers—from Vic.

'Do you remember Mr Wilde's lessons in the ninth grade?' Moggie asked.

Her teacher was unlike Nester, who droned on and on. Mr Wilde's classes were fun. On a projector, he had used transparent outlines to show overlapping shifters and human worlds. And he had copies of Olden maps of the various kingdoms through the ages. There were spots in them, labeled, 'here be dragons'. Whether sky, land, or sea, each was an uncharted, empty patch. Their sister pack had a few Komodo dragons, who were lizards and had impressive Were forms. The two saltwater crocodile shifters from Australia were larger. None of them had any wings. And they all kept to themselves even more than her.

'Oh, well, he'll be underwhelmed by your scintillating personality. We'll have a story to tell, not that anyone, even Papa, will ever believe you had a dragon suitor.'

Asena chuckled. Her eyelids grew heavier. Even as she drifted off, fireballs, exploding volcanoes, and rivers of oozing lava chased her. Moggie saw it as a game to outrun the inferno and set off.

When they dreamed, her beast pivoted, and changed whatever tormented their shared subconscious into an adventure.

There were a few things Moggie didn't allow... nightmares were one.

Hello! So we're taking bets. Asena and the Dragon Prince are to go on date, eh?

1. It goes well enough.

2. It will be a disaster.

3. They're fated, it's insta love. Bye, bye Vic.

What's your prediction? Comment below to share it with me.

Ps. This is the longest chapter I've posted for this book so far. It was almost 3k words by the time I finished with it. Phew. So I split it into two parts. Good or bad call?

It seems like it's quiz day, eh?

So, who caught the obvious hint of what Asena did back home? And where home was? If you're right... I have a surprise for you. So do let me know.