The Profilers Shield [COMPLETED]

Five – Little Dragon

They both went back to the penthouse, exhausted and ready to relax with a cup of tea. They both had to carry armloads of bags to the bedroom Ember was staying in. Ember was left to put everything in its place. It didn’t take long for her to fold and hag everything away as well as tucking some stuff away in drawers.

‘See!? He’s attentive!’

Cleora was set on convincing Dagur was a suitable Mate and it was grinding on Ember. She felt the need to shift so that Cleora could take all that excess energy out on flying rather than focusing on Dagur. Ember sighed, should she ask to leave the penthouse by herself? Could she ask, was it part of the contract that she couldn’t leave herself to her own devices?

“He isn’t, he just doesn’t want me to look homeless whilst all the other shields are prettier than me and look a lot more expensive.”

Ember countered back to Cleora, her confidence slowly degenerating before her eyes. What happened to her temper? What happened to wanting to lay low and not shift? Ember hated the feeling of being trapped. Once she was done with unpacking her new wardrobe, she rushed to her Master, who was downstairs and reading what looked like an Old World book. He could translate that too? It was a dead language so that was impressive. Thoughts aside, she cleared her throat and got her Masters attention. He set the book aside and waited for what she was about to say.

Dagur wondered what she wanted and it didn’t take long for his curiosity to be dampened. “Master, can I go outside for a walk?” Dagur recognised that the creature remembered the second half rule number two: ‘Ask to go out by yourself and I shall answer as I see fit.’

“You have legs. Permission granted.” Dagur couldn’t help but inject some snarky tone into his voice. His Shield looked relieved until she heard the next sentence from his mouth. “Shifting is a different thing though.” Her relieved expression faltered. “Did you really think I wouldn’t know a f*****g dragon was under my roof?” Dagur almost yelled. He wasn’t stupid; he just didn’t need to bring it up. Sure, he knew she was hiding something when he bought her, but it seemed she was drugged and when they met John it seemed her Ancestor was finally able to connect their souls again. “I’m sorry, Master.” His Shield whispered, as if ashamed of her heritage. “It’s fine. Anything else I should know about?” Dagurs eyes narrowed at the dragon in front of him. “You’re a profiler, you should know everything anyway.” The Shield said through gritted teeth, her hands clenched into fists. Oh, there was her temper. She obviously didn’t want to say anything more by her sudden change in mood. “I don’t make a habit of using my abilities for personal use.” Dagur said as coldly as he could to freeze her anger. That obviously didn’t work. Her anger amused him, though. “You obviously did when you bought me!” That temper was definitely from her dragon, how come he didn’t realise that when she burnt his home almost to the ground? “You’re a business transaction. I needed protection, I bought it.”

“I’m not an object!” She was almost screaming in him face and he tried hard not to laugh. He wasn’t at all intimidated. He realised he had gotten too far when tears started to fall on her brightly lit skin, dousing the flames she was about to expel for the second time since she had resided there. Dagur sighed, defeated by tears. “There’s a field not far from here, go straight at the back of this building. You can’t miss it.” The Shield rubbed her tears away and nodded her thanks. Before she left, Dagur remembered something important and grabbed her arm to stop her from leaving. Electricity ran through his body and he almost jumped away, shocked, figuratively and literally. She looked just as shocked, still as a living statue as she stared at her Master. Dagur composed himself. “Be back soon, the dark isn’t suitable for someone like you.” His Shield nodded and left, a pale red still dancing underneath her skin.

Ember did as he said and decided not to be out longer than an hour. The field he mentioned was easy to find, even his lack of direction Dagur still knew how to get there. As soon as Ember arrived she stripped her clothes off behind a tree that was buried within what seemed like a miniature forest and shifted as quickly as she could as she ran towards the open field. Her body morphed, her arms and legs elongating and producing scales, a tail protruding on the base of her back. Her torso gained muscle and scales created impenetrable armour as her neck stretched and gotten stronger, thicker as her head grew and changed into one of a dragon. It was like she was turned inside out; her internal light red glow was now on the outside, her scales covering the colour of her human skin underneath. The difference was between her and a regular dragon, except for being a shapeshifter, was her wings. Beautiful wings sprouted from her dragons’ shoulder blades, not the leathery ones from typical dragons, but soft feather wings. Each feather a sunset ombre pattern and all unique from one another like snowflakes. The shift only took a few seconds and Ember, who was now in the backseat and Cleora took the lead, setting off into the air to finally stretch her wings. It had been too long not being able to glide and feel free. Cleora was silent as she flew, her body not making one sound as she flew around, scouting the area. Cleora had full control of the dragon, the other three quarters of her soul tucked away safely. Ember could take the reins if she wanted, but decided against it since it had been a while since her instincts took full control so she let Cleora do what she wanted in the meantime. It was safe to say that they both trusted each other to control either body, it was hard for non-shifters to understand the bond people had between Ancestor and Descendant.

Meanwhile whilst Ember was flittering outside, Dagur was sitting and reading the book he finally had time to finish. It was a book from the Old World. It was about 5 sisters, two of which get married to rich men and another elopes with a gambling soldier. It was really popular in the Old World and there were plenty TV and film adaptations. He had time to finish it for the at least tenth time before he heard scraping at the front door. Dagur glared and picked up his nearest weapon – a lamp since, unless absolutely necessary, his weapons were mainly his fists and his Shield – and slowly opened the door, expecting another assassin to finally find him again (although for assassins, they didn’t know how to keep themselves alive), only to find a pretty little dragon at his doorstep, clawing at the door to get in. Confused, he let the creature in and put the lamp down. The dragon looked happy as it stepped in and curled around Dagurs feet like a cat. He liked cats. It didn’t feel like one though as he petted its head he felt the dry, soft scales of the creature. What intrigued him the most were the feathered wings of the creature, pretty hues of oranges, reds and yellows were on every feather. He noticed the clothes in the dragons’ mouth and recognised them as his Shields’. So it was her? The dragon wasn’t big like regular dragons otherwise she couldn’t have fit inside his penthouse; she was the size of himself and was obviously pure muscle. He picked his shield well. The dragon circled him again, as if performing a ritual, and dropped the clothes on the floor. Did it want to play fetch? The dragon looked excitable to see him, even playful as she looked up at him. Dagur patted her head again and the dragon nuzzled against it. He’d never thought he’d get a 2-in-1. A Shield and a pet. Dagur decided to talk to it and see if it understood. “How was your flight?” It was the only thing he could think of that could relate to a dragon. The dragons’ eyes sparkled as if it understood and ran around on the spot. Scratch the idea of a cat; it was definitely more dog-like. “Good.” Dagur thought it was a positive response it gave to he replied as such. Dagur went to sit back down but the dragon stopped him with a huff. He looked back, his eyebrows raised in question. “What is it?” He asked as he watched the dragon pluck a feather out of its wing and shoved it against Dagurs hand. He got the hint and took it, smiling. Maybe more of a fox, a hybrid of a cat and dog? “Thank you.” Dagur said, genuinely smiling at the dragon that seemed loved his response.

The next week had the same routine; Ember shifted and went for a fly whilst Dagur stopped at home. Cleora came back and gave another feather to him at the end of each flight session. By the time the week had passed, he had a nice arrangement of feathers in a vase (that he bought specifically for them) that stood proudly on the coffee table. He didn’t understand the ritual, but he thought it was nice nonetheless. Ember, on the other hand, was embarrassed but didn’t want to bring up that Cleora was trying to win him over by giving their most prized possession: themselves. For dragons, once they find their Mate they usually start courting and give the Mate their favourite scales, or in this case, feathers as a sign of love and devotion. Cleora thought it was working but for Ember it was so blatantly obvious that Dagur hadn’t had a clue about dragon culture. It wasn’t like Ember could stop it either, since Dagur was her Mate and technically she should be doing that. Cleora thought that Dagur buying the necessities Ember needed was a sign of said culture, and thus returning the affection by giving the feathers. It made it so Ember couldn’t look her Master in the eye and felt flustered around him, not like he noticed.

Dagur had definitely noticed. He noticed his Shield being awkward since she started shifting and he noticed her staying up in the room allocated to her most of the day unless they needed to go out. Did he do something wrong? He wanted to laugh at her mood swings but also felt something, which was unusual in itself. Pity? Second-hand embarrassment? Amusement? Irritation? He couldn’t quite pinpoint it, but he didn’t forget about that spark he felt the first time he touched her after her Ancestor came back. It was probably a coincidence, right? Probably some sort of protection for his Shield, but it didn’t feel bad. After the shock, it was like a warm, relaxed feeling that encircled his organs and dispersed throughout his entire body.

Whilst he was thinking too hard Dagur suddenly felt a shift in his body, it was like his veins ran dry and he inhaled harshly, his hand to his neck as if parched from sudden thirst. He knew what he needed. Dagur curled himself inward, clutching at his stomach as a pain shot through it. Damn, why now? He thought. He hadn’t used his abilities to the extent of needing essence recently, so why the sudden drop in strength? A strangled cry for his Shield made her come running; she kneeled in front of him, looking worried and concerned. Dagur knew she was forcing herself; after all, he was giving her everything she needed. He cringed at the thought and the pain gotten worse, his head landed on her shoulder and her hands awkwardly patted his back. “What’s wrong?” His Shield almost sounded panicked if it wasn’t for the fact that he bought her and had a contract together. Dagur inhaled, smelling what he didn’t realise before was a natural sweet floral scent. He inhaled sharper, smelling her, finding the right place to get the most essence he needed. The shoulder he was leaning on was good enough. He moved the hem of her t-shirt without a thought and licked her shoulder, he felt his Shield resisting but he didn’t care. All he cared about was biting her shoulder and getting what he needed, which he did. A bite from him made his Shield scream in pain but he latched on and felt the essence he so desperately needed flow into his bloodstream. Dagur held her close, needing her to not move an inch as he sucked up the essence, the comforting sparks he felt before coming back. That feeling with her essence made Dagur feeling slightly aroused which he hadn’t felt before when he needed to do this. He was known to be asexual, but that wasn’t entirely the case. He was an old romantic, believing in soulmates and all that malarkey that people thought had died long ago. He was keeping himself for the right person to come along and that was fine for him. It was like his Shields opinion too; minus the fact her virginity was actually sacred compared to his, which made more sense knowing her she’s a shapeshifter. His trail of thought stopped when he had his fill and he detached his canines from his Shields shoulder.

Ember had no idea how to react, one moment she was worried about her Mate and the next thing she knew she was manhandled and bitten. She couldn’t struggle no matter how she tried; his arms surrounded her body to keep her still, his canines a threat that if she did move a chunk of her skin would go with it. But one thing that surprised her was that it felt slightly s****l. Dagur, her Mate, seemed to have the need to feed off her and being pinned onto his body felt strangely nice considering the situation. Ember may have whimpered at the feeling but not in a bad way - a desperate way. She felt the need to attach her mouth onto his that chained her to him. However, the moment was gone as Dagur retracted his teeth and leaned back onto the sofa, his heavy breathing slowing to a normal pattern. Ember felt her shoulder but when she inspected her fingers not a trace of bloods was on them. Ember frowned; surely blood would be on them since he just bit her? “Are you a vampire?” Ember asked cautiously, she didn’t know how her Mate would react to a personal question. Dagur sighed and shook his head.

He was still reeling from the sensation he had when he took her essence. His Shield asked about his species and then swayed, the after affects sinking in and he just about caught her before she collapsed to the ground. It was understandable; he did just suck her strength essence out of her so she would be weak for a little while. Dagur hoisted her up onto the sofa, he felt a lot better than usually after he fed and he chalked it up to her being stronger than the Shields before her. Dagur could see the exhaustion pulling her into a sleep that, depending on how much essence he took, could take days to wake up from. Whilst she slept, Dagur decided to make some food for them both, putting hers in the fridge, and then go to his hobby room to whip up some new cushions for his sofa.

By the time Ember woken up from the weird encounter she was wrapped up in a blanket surrounded by cushions that she had never seen before, one of which she noticed, was underneath her head as a pillow. She glared at the lamp that was emitting a warm glow and then glared at the man in question that led her to sleep and wake up even more tired. He was drinking a cup of tea when he noticed Ember squirming and then sitting up, rubbing her eyes. “How long have I been sleeping?” Ember grumbled, hating the fake lighting and feeling too hot from being swaddled in a blanket. “A few hours.” Her Mate replied and went to the kitchen, a few minutes later returning with some soup and a plate of chopped baguette. “I made this earlier. Eat.” Dagur commanded and Ember did as she was told. It was delicious, maybe slightly spicy? “The bread too?” Ember teased.

“I’m not that much of a genius.” Dagur replied.

“Could’ve fooled me…” Ember murmured sarcastically and Dagur chuckled at the comment.

“And to answer your earlier question: no I’m not a vampire.” Another question hung in the air that Ember didn’t want to ask: what are you then?

“I’m not sure what I am, probably a sub-species?” Dagur started to explain; he prepared to speak so much in one go for once. His Shield seemed to already be invested in his story, staring intensely, occasionally dunking the bread in the soup and chewed slowly, as if savouring it. “I don’t need to eat actual food but it tastes pretty good.” Dagur smirked at Ember as he said it. “I need strength essence. Remember rule number four?” Ember nodded, ‘If I need other services, you will comply’, it was what she thought was the worst rule, but he must’ve meant the strength essence. “Good, sorry for not informing you earlier, the thirst hadn’t come on so strongly before and I didn’t have time to explain.” Dagur didn’t want to mention how he felt; he shuffled in his seat to feel less uncomfortable. Ember replied with a small ‘it’s ok’ before going back to eating. Dagur smiled and for the first time he found another human to describe as cute. He internally shook the thought out his head. Attachment wasn’t a good thing (hence rule 5). “How old are you?” Dagur scoffed at the question. “Human age or…?” He said carefully. Most humans couldn’t handle his actual age. But she wasn’t most humans. “Both.” Dagur thought for a moment, quickly doing some Maths in his head. “I’m 3200 years old… in human years I’m 32.”

“We’re similar! In dragon years 2500 but I’m 25 in human years.” His Shield replied as if he asked. Dagur felt relieved that they were the same. It seemed that dragons and vampires had a similar life span. Finally a Shield that lasted as long as he did! A long pause was had until she realised something. “You lived in the Old World!” Her eyes shone with excitement and it made Dagur chuckle again. She put down her empty crockery on the coffee table and scooted closer. “What was it like!?” Her excitement rubbed off a little on Dagur. He suddenly felt a warm feeling grow in his heart knowing that she was interested. The feeling confused him but he decided to ignore it for now. “Yes I did. I’ll tell you some other time, but I do collect some stuff. I’ll show you later.” She looked a little disappointed but hid it in a matter of nanoseconds. Dagur felt relaxed, finally being able to say those things. It had been so long since he had anybody interested in him as a person rather than a profiler. Dagur smiled and unconsciously wrapped his arm around the little dragon by him. Ember seemed flustered but came even closer, her arms wrapped around her legs that perched on the sofa.

Ember felt her face heat up as he pulled her closer. Dagur didn’t seem to know that he held her close, but he seemed pretty happy so Ember didn’t want to ruin it by asking why he did it. Instead she snuggled in closer. Her Mate was certainly affectionate without realising. “You’re a curious little Shield, aren’t you?” He said and Ember found herself making eye contact with him. Whether it was real or not, she could see the sparkle of warm towards her in his eyes and Ember hoped he saw it right back from hers. Although she knew she shouldn’t, Ember felt more attachment towards him as the days went by, it didn’t help that Cleora put thoughts in her head and wanted to be near him at the end of their flight sessions. Ember glanced at the feathers in the vase. Dagur noticed. “I think your dragon likes me.” Ember couldn’t help but notice how much he smiled recently. He was probably used to her having her around now. Ember nodded shyly. “Yeah, Cleora does.”

“That’s her name? Cleora?” Another nod from Ember. “That’s good to know. What’s with the feathers anyway? A thank you for keeping you here?” Oh god, she would have to tell him now, wouldn’t she? He just said some stuff about him to her. Ember breathed in, ready to explain.