Lyzaria

                                    

                                          
Why is he finding it amusing to call you Lyza when you specifically asked him to call you Lyzaria? My dragon asks me. 
                          
Because he thinks it's funny to irritate me, I reply. 
                          
How is that funny?
                          
It's not, he's just an asshole, I snort and Mitalonys chuckles a little. 
                          
"Get cleaned up, I have to watch the warrior's training in a half hour. The bathroom is through there and there are clothes in the closet that belong to my sister, but they should be about your size," Daerius tells me. 
                          
"Yeah okay," I mutter, only half listening. When I hear the doors close I groan and collapse onto the bed. 
                          
Weariness and pain washes over me and I feel tears prick my eyes. My stomach still hurts where there is a knife gash and a massive bruise forming underneath it. My thighs are still red and burning, my torn pants reveal the shredded and bleeding skin underneath. 
                          
My cheek still stings from the cut that stretches from my ear to the corner of my lip. My arm throbs from the stab wound that is completely through my bicep. 
                          
Lyzaria may I heal you? Mitalonys asks. 
                          
No, I groan, it would be too dangerous. Every time you heal me, everything around me being burned to ashes, I can't do that here.
                          
But I really do not like it when you are in pain, he whines. 
                          
Then just don't let me feel any pain, I need to dress the wounds, as soon as I find some bandages . . .
                          
Perhaps in the other room? He suggests and I stand up, gritting my teeth against the pain. I trudge to the bathroom and sigh when I find a first aid kit under the sink. 
                          
I take a quick shower, hissing when the water touches my open gashes. Then using strength from my dragon, I manage to stitch and disinfect all of my wounds. 
                          
I wrap them up with a bandage and find a brush in the drawers of the vanity. I brush my hair and pull it back into a ponytail. 
                          
When I open the closet door, I can't help but let out a disgusted noise. It's all going to be way too small I can tell. 
                          
I finally find a pair of really short jean shorts that won't rub my scratches, and a red crop top that won't touch my stomach. There is a dresser and I find lots of panties inside, along with a set of bras that are all too small. 
                          
Gritting my teeth in frustration, I slip on a pair of red panties and a matching bra. I put on the clothes as well before looking into the mirror. 
                          
I cringe at my reflection. I hear a knock at the door and Daerius walks in with an annoyed look. 
                          
"You were supposed to be finished ten minutes ago," he huffs and I roll my eyes. 
                          
"Sorry Alpha, I was busy putting on clothes that are definitely not in my size," I spit and try to pull the top up a little. 
                          
"You look fine," he shrugs and I gape at him. 
                          
"I look like a whore!" I shriek and he rolls his eyes. 
                          
"We'll get you some new clothes later, now let's go, you've already made me late," he growls and I follow him out with a frown. 
                          
He is an asshole, my dragon growls and I mutter an agreement. 
                          
I ignore the stares I get from all of the wolves we pass and follow Daerius out into the forest. This place is unnerving, the trees creak and I swear I can hear voices in the wind. 
                          
I sigh in relief when the forest thins out and we walk into a massive building that looks like an expensive gym inside. There are nearly a hundred wolves all training in some way. 
                          
They are all men, and I instantly feel self conscious and tug down the shorts and pull up the top again. The top is too small and my breasts are almost spilling out the top and these shorts keep riding up and showing off my ass.
                          
I hear Daerius growl and they all turn away, much to my surprise. There is a large open area with lots of thin blue mats spread out everywhere. 
                          
Daerius yells something and they start sparring on the mats. I lean against the wall nearby and watch them fight, barely able to keep my eyes open with how boring this is.
                          
"Why aren't there any women?" I ask Daerius when I still see only males.
                          
"Because women can't and don't fight," he snorts making me growl.
                          
"That's the most fucked up thing I have ever heard! Women can fight just as well as men can! Sure we fight differently to make up for the size and strength difference but women can still fight!"
                          
"No they can't, and if they could, then men would be the ones who gave birth to pups and look after them when they are young," he retorts and I growl louder. By now, we have caught the attention of most of the warriors. 
                          
"I bet you I can fight better than most of your warriors in here!" I spit and his lip curls into a smirk. 
                          
"Go ahead then, pick one of my warriors to fight and have at it," he says, holding his arm out towards his sparring wolves. 
                          
"Fine!" I hiss and turn to look at all of the men. I spot one that seems to be one of the best warriors here. I point to him and Daerius rolls his eyes. 
                          
"Wylliam, get over here," he tells and I crack my neck for dramatic effect. Just as I move to meet him at the mat, Daerius grabs my arm and puts his lips by my ear. 
                          
"Don't you dare light anything on fire or you are going back to your cell," he warns and I give him a funny look. 
                          
"I'm not stupid you know," I mutter indignantly before standing across from Wylliam. 
                          
You ready? I ask my dragon. 
                          
Of course, he growls and I chuckle a little. 
                          
Wylliam is at least 6ft tall with massive muscles, intimidating to most. He looks exactly like the men I learned to fight as a child. 
                          
I put my fists up and we start circling each other. I see his feet cross and dart forward, whipping around to deliver a spinning roundhouse kick straight to his chest. 
                          
He stumbles back several steps and almost trips but I don't stop to let him regain his composure. I bring my fist up into his jaw and slam my heel into his ribs. 
                          
He gasps for breath and I smash my palm into his throat, making him claw at his neck when no air enters his lungs. 
                          
I turn around to see Daerius gaping at me in surprise. I smirk at him before swinging my fist straight at Wylliam's temple, knocking him out cold. 
                          
His body falls to the ground with a thud and I walk up to Daerius. 
                          
"You were saying?"