The Dragon's Secret Name

Chapter 2

Kate’s POV

I wish I could see my face. My attention is completely captivated by this supposed dragon, who hasn't stopped thrashing the wooden stage with his scaly tail.

He's gorgeous, despite the inhuman characteristics that make him look more like a hybrid between human and dragon. His defined muscles seem to leap off his arms, making it feel like looking at a living wall.

His skin has a light gray tone, but half of his arms, handcuffed with hands in front—probably to prevent him from using his enormous claws—have a darker shade that extends to his elbows and blends the gray in an elegant gradient.

He looks out at the audience, and even from this distance, I can see that the whites of his eyes are completely black, with highlighting yellow irises split in half by vertical slits. His hair is long and black, and some strands fall over his bare chest. He's so tall that the man holding his chain barely reaches his broad shoulders.

His tail lashes the stage once more, jolting me out of this almost hypnotic state.

"Why the surprised faces?" The supposed dragon laughs and I can see his fangs. "Did you expect me to come in here roaring? The Hunters only took away my dignity, not my manners."

"Besides being stubborn, he's also a smart aleck," the auctioneer raises an eyebrow and gestures.

The man with the eyepatch pulls on the chain, and the supposed dragon snarls again. But he doesn't retaliate. Losing interest in spitting sarcasm, he turns his face away. I, however, can't stop staring at him, and my mind becomes a chaotic whirlwind.

This man-dragon, or whatever he is, isn't what I expected to find here. I was fully aware this was a possibility, but I came for a gigantic monster, not for an absurdly beautiful man with a pair of horns on his head and a nervous tail.

How could he be a dragon? My dragon?

The auctioneer claps once, drawing everyone's attention back to him.

"Let's get to the point. Who'll give me three hundred thousand?"

Suddenly, everyone starts talking simultaneously, creating a louder murmur than before. I don't even need to pay attention to understand they're complaining about the high price.

The auctioneer raises his hand.

"My friends, please... Dragons are rare and almost impossible to capture. I cannot start this auction with mediocre values."

Once again, leaving me a little puzzled, the auctioneer gestures to the other man, drawing an invisible circle in the air. Then, the man takes a few steps to the right, and the supposed dragon is forced to turn on his heels. The air catches in my throat because, on his back, there’s a pair of scars like the ones on the dragon who saved me.

Well... whether it's him or not, that's enough to change my mind.

In the row ahead, a hand goes up. The first bid has been made.

"Great! Who'll give me three hundred and ten thousand?" In the same row, another hand goes up. "Three hundred and twenty thousand?"

I start to get nervous but immediately look at the old man beside me, who has been grumbling about the prices and seems reluctant to bid. I need to persuade him to do so.

I've stolen many books over the past eight years, many of them containing various instructions on how to channel magic, but I've never really excelled at it. However, due to my body’s conditions, there's one spell I can say I've mastered, simply because the excessive magic it produces amplifies its effect.

Master of Lies is simple but allows the user to lie, and whoever hears those lies will believe every word without a second thought. However, there are limits; a false story needs to be constructed and maintained until the end. That's how I convinced Mr. Glover that I was his beloved fiancée, and I would have continued using the spell until I got my hands on the invitation if he hadn't been a pervert.

"You want this dragon," I tell the old man, biting my lip when I hear a bid of three hundred and eighty thousand.

The angle prevents me from seeing the old man's reactions to my words, but something in his tone, and the fact that he stopped grumbling, indicates I have his attention.

"Yes... you're right," he says. "I do."

Perfect.

The bids continue to rise. My hands start trembling.

"You have to make a bid," I insist, touching the old man's shoulder, but he moves away to avoid contact.

"Who are you, young lady?"

"What's wrong, Dad? I'm your beloved daughter," I reply immediately. "Now, please, listen to me. Make a bid."

I hear another bid of four hundred and fifty thousand.

Silence.

The auctioneer tries to get more money, but no one matches the amount. He then starts a countdown, and my heart almost jumps out of my mouth.

No, no, no!

In a desperate act, I say, "You want this dragon more than anything in the world."

The old man shifts in his chair as if it's full of thorns piercing him. He turns his face towards me, and I can see that his pupils are dilated, unfocused; the old man is under the spell.

"You're right, my beloved daughter. I want this dragon more than anything in the world..." He then stands up and raises his right hand, drawing the auctioneer's attention and even the supposed dragon's, who looks over his shoulder just as the old man shouts, "Seven hundred thousand!"

I can't lose my cool.

The ensuing silence is longer now. Even the auctioneer takes a while to ask if anyone wishes to cover the bid. However, no one says anything; they're all too stunned, and no one seems willing to pay more.

The auctioneer starts a new countdown. Then, he points in our direction.

"Sold."

I lean back in the chair and let out a long sigh of relief, though I know I'll have to keep up my charade for a while.

"Congratulations, sir!" The auctioneer exclaims, applauding without making a sound with his hands. "You have just acquired today’s best product, and probably the best product of your life. Throughout the Hunters’ history, a dragon has only been captured three times!"

He gestures again towards the man with the eyepatch, who continues holding the chain, and silently commands him. He pulls on it a few more times, as if coaxing a dog on a leash to change direction, and then the supposed dragon starts walking.

"Please, follow through that door and accompany our staff member," instructs the auctioneer. "He'll take you to the office."

Somewhat nervously, the old man nods and offers me his hand. I take it without hesitation; after all, I'm now his beloved daughter.

As I look back at the stage, just in time to see the back of the supposed dragon and his scars before he exits the triangular aura formed by the lamp, I shudder again when his yellow eyes seem to hover over me.

He growls again until he's taken through the darkness at the back of the stage.

The last thing I hear is his deep voice when he says, "I feel like a cheap thing. I thought I'd be sold for at least a million."

…

My eyes remain fixed on the supposed dragon’s broad back, analyzing its scars and trying to remember if the shape is the same as those I saw on the back of the black beast in the past. At times, the swaying of his tail caught my attention. At least, the black tone and the iridescent shine on it are the same as I remember. But I stop staring when he turns his neck and looks at me over his shoulder, vibrating his throat with another one of those guttural grunts.

After a few minutes of walking, turning corridors until the echo of the auctioneer's voice can’t be heard, we reach an elegant carved wooden door. The man with the eyepatch knocks twice on it and turns the knob, but it’s my temporary father and I who enter the room first.

Inside, there’s a pair of chairs in front of a wide table, and a brunette woman is sitting in an armchair on the other side. She must be the Guild leader, or the Hunters’s head, or both.

"Sold so soon?" she asks, gesturing for us to sit. "How much?"

"Seven hundred thousand," the supposed dragon replies as he's led to the room’s corner.

The woman wrinkles her nose and flashes a forced smile at him. "I thought you were worth more than that."

"Yeah, me too."

"Still cocky, even about to be handed over to your new owner." The woman turns to us. "You'll need to put a good bridle on that one's tongue."

I put my hand on the old man's shoulder. "We'll manage, won't we, Dad?"

He nods in agreement. "Yes, dear."

I tell him I'll take a look at our new acquisition while he sorts out the paperwork for the purchase.

Just as I stand up, the supposed dragon’s yellow irises hover over me, sending a chill down my spine.

He stares at me, brow furrowed, analyzing my body from head to toe. The sensation is almost familiar to that of eight years ago, but I hold his gaze anyway, daring to analyze him in its entirety again.

"Do you like what you see so much?" he asks, catching me off guard. "You couldn't stop looking at me on the way here."

Leaning on the fact that he's chained and the man with the eyepatch can prevent him from attacking, I gather some courage and step closer.

"What's your name?" I ask.

His tail taps against the wall behind him a few times.

"You'll know soon," he replies without much interest.

"I’m not talking about that name."

"Oh..." The supposed dragon raises his eyebrows and tilts his head to the side, his tail now tapping on the floor. "It's Dan, or Wingless Beast, as you all love to call me."

Unsure if he intends to answer, but since he won't be the only one hearing it, I inquire, "And how did someone like you end up on a leash?"

Dan's pupils contract into two black needles, but the man with the eyepatch pulls the chain attached to the collar around his neck forcefully. I see Dan's muscles tense up, especially in the neck area. I believe his collar did something to him.

"We used one of our live baits; a dryad," the man with the eyepatch responds, and that doesn't surprise me. Dan's reaction, however, was more negative than I thought it would be; he still seems very agitated. "Appealing to the target's sentimental side is a cliché trick that requires patience, but never fails. As expected, he fell in love with the bait, and the point is, nobody can guess when the person next to you will stab you in the back, huh?"

While the man chuckles and Dan thumps his tail harder against the floor, my throat goes dry, and I feel a pang in my chest, though I force myself to laugh too.

Immediately, I'm reminded of the day I was sold.

"Yes, no one can guess."

I almost feel guilty. But I've come too far to give up now. He's almost in my hands.

“Humans have a morbid sense of humor,” Dan murmurs.

"Done," says the woman. I turn and see her pushing a piece of paper toward my temporary father. "The moment you sign this document, my Hunters and I will forget about the dragon's Secret Name, so he will become solely yours."

My heart leaps anxiously.

This is the next step.

I turn back to Dan, just in time to see him grimace.

"Don't worry, Wingless Beast. It won't be as bad as you think. I have big plans for you."