{"sf1_id":2232823,"sf2_id":"ve3zBBd1","title":"A Dragon and Her Human Chapter 18(Rewrite)","author":"StrangeStoryEnjoyer","words":4849,"posted_at":"2025-03-08T22:51:08.000Z","tags":["Action","Adult","Adult Content","Armor","Assassin","Blood","Car","Car Crash","Character Development","Cuddling","Death","Dragon","Dragoness","Drama","Female","Feral","Guns","Heterosexual","Human","Humor","Interspecies","Love","M/F","Magic","Male","Male/Female","Mature","Military","Murder","NSFW","Non-Anthro","Plot Development","Quadruped","Romance","Scar","Sci-Fi","Science Fiction","Series","Size Difference","Soulmates","Story Progression","Story Series","Straight","Sword","Tail","Third Person","Violence (Not In Yiff)","Weapon","Western Dragon","Wings","Winter","Young","Young Love","Young Romance"],"url":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/2232823-a-dragon-and-her-human-chapter-18-rewrite","original_url":"https://sofurry.com/s/ve3zBBd1","image_url":"https://cdn.sofurryfiles.com/submissions/thumbnails/cd/15/cd15d8f5-0cac-40cc-beb2-fe04f312a60a","description":"Was in the middle of bringing in wood for the woodstove when I realized it was nearly five... so I gave it a final once over and here it is! Hope you enjoy and of course it's fiction, don't take it seriously.","content":"A Shadow’s Burden\n\nChapter 18\n\n  \n\n“We are being hunted like sheep, and the only thing you can focus on is our fucking profits!?” Marcus shouted, his fingers trembling as he flipped through the security feeds for the tenth time.\n\n  \n\n“Oh, relax, Marcus,” his colleague scoffed, leaning back in his chair with an irritatingly casual air.\n\n  \n\n“Relax!?” Marcus wheeled on him, fury mounting. “Are you fu—”\n\n  \n\nThe security monitors flickered.\n\n  \n\nMarcus watched, horror tightening in his chest as each screen turned to static, one after another, until they all went black.\n\n  \n\nThe radio on his desk crackled. “Hey, something’s wrong out here. The lights are flickering like crazy.”\n\n  \n\nMarcus snatched it up. “Stay put. I’ll—”\n\n  \n\nA sudden pop cut him off as the overhead lights exploded. Shards of fluorescent tubing rained down, plunging the room into darkness.\n\n  \n\nPanic surged through him, but he forced it down, gripping the radio tighter. “Headcount. Now.”\n\n  \n\nOne by one, voices confirmed in—except one.\n\n  \n\n“Frank, please respond…” His throat tightened. He swallowed hard and tried again. “Frank, do you copy?”\n\n  \n\n“I just saw him no more than two minutes ago… I’ll see if I ca—”\n\n  \n\nThe voice cut out abruptly.\n\n  \n\nMarcus felt a cold wave of dread crash over him, as if his stomach had plummeted into an abyss. He turned to his colleague, his eyes adjusting to the dim glow of the emergency lights. Even in the low lighting, he could see the terror plastered across the man’s face.\n\n  \n\nHis fingers tightened around the radio. “Can anyone please tell me this is some sick joke!?”\n\n  \n\nSilence.\n\n  \n\nNo radio chatter. No footsteps. No voices.\n\n  \n\nThe only sound was his own pulse hammering in his ears. The stillness stretched for what felt like hours, suffocating, unbearable—\n\n  \n\nA faint scraping noise made him freeze.\n\n  \n\nThe door handle jiggled once. Twice. The metallic scratching continued.\n\n  \n\nA click echoed in the dark as the lock disengaged. The handle turned, but the door didn’t budge—stopped by the reinforced security lock that could only be manipulated from inside.\n\n  \n\nMarcus held his breath.\n\n  \n\nSeconds passed. Then silence.\n\n  \n\nMaybe they’d given up—\n\n  \n\nA thunderous boom shook the room as the topmost hinge exploded inward, a fist-sized dent appearing in the thick steel.\n\n  \n\nA second boom ruptured the air, and the bottom hinge snapped free.\n\n  \n\nMarcus barely had time to process what was happening before the entire reinforced blast door tore from its frame and crashed into a nearby table, sending chemicals and bricks of product flying.\n\n  \n\nA masked figure stepped through the wreckage, pistol raised.\n\n  \n\nThe emergency lighting barely illuminated his silhouette, but Marcus could see one thing with perfect clarity—vivid, almost glowing, green eyes cutting through the dark like a predator’s.\n\n  \n\nThe gunman didn’t hesitate.\n\n  \n\nPop.\n\n  \n\nA single suppressed round punched into Marcus’ colleague’s gut. The man gasped, doubling over as he tumbled from his chair, clutching his wound.\n\n  \n\nTheir attacker didn’t flinch. Didn’t waver. His eyes—cold, indifferent—never left Marcus as he strode forward. He plucked a package from the scattered drug stockpile before turning his attention back to the wounded man.\n\n  \n\n“Get up, you waste of space.” His voice was razor-edged with disgust.\n\n  \n\nHe yanked the man up by his collar and slammed him back into his chair. Without hesitation, he held up the package, reading its contents—then clobbered the man across the side of the head so hard that white powder burst into the air in a thick cloud.\n\n  \n\n“Environmental Hazard Detected: Fentanyl. Initiating filtration.”\n\n  \n\nA feminine, robotic voice echoed from the man. Sounding almost too human but clearly not his own.\n\n  \n\nMarcus’ colleague wheezed, choking as his attacker jammed a thumb into his gunshot wound, forcing a sharp inhale—a lethal dose.\n\n  \n\nThe gunman let him go. He didn’t bother watching as the man convulsed.\n\n  \n\nInstead, he turned his gaze back to Marcus.\n\n  \n\n“A simple gunshot sufficed for most of your colleagues,” he said, tucking his pistol away. “But you two… you two disgusted me the most.”\n\n  \n\nMarcus trembled, his breath coming in sharp, uneven gasps.\n\n  \n\n“Making a profit off drugs and illegal porn is one thing. But when you involve little ones…”\n\n  \n\nThe gunman’s voice turned ice-cold, laced with uncontained fury. His right arm shifted as it raised.\n\n  \n\nAnd then the fire came.\n\n  \n\nMarcus shrieked as liquid flame engulfed his right leg. He slapped at it in a panic, only to coat his hands in the burning accelerant.\n\n  \n\nThe onslaught of flame resumed, covering Marcus.\n\n  \n\nHis skin melted as he flailed, eyes wide with terror, agony warping his every scream. The flames crawled up his body, eating through flesh, turning pain into something beyond human comprehension.\n\n  \n\nHis howls grew weaker.\n\n  \n\nThen silence.\n\n  \n\nThe firelight flickered against the metallic plating on the gunman’s right arm.\n\n  \n\nWithout a word, he turned and left, leaving behind only charred remains and the acrid stench of judgment. Growing tendrils of flame licked at the walls as the gunman vanished into the darkness.\n\n  \n\n* * *\n\nThe house trembled as a V8 rumbled into the garage. Deep and menacing, the growl carried through the walls, distinct from the Corvette’s sharper tone.\n\n  \n\nDaniella’s ears flicked as she sat at the bottom of the stairs, her tail curling idly around her claws. With the amount of snow on the ground, she knew exactly which vehicle it was.\n\n  \n\nThe Raptor.\n\n  \n\nShe let out a frustrated sigh, rising to her feet as she heard Conner’s heavy footfalls climbing the garage stairs. The door swung open, and his hat smacked against the frame, knocked off by the added height of his boots. With an irritated huff, he bent down, snatched it off the floor, and kicked his boots across the room before stepping inside.\n\n  \n\nHe made a mental note—again—to adjust that damn doorway.\n\n  \n\nHis eyes flicked toward the fireplace, now a dark, empty husk of soot and cooling embers.\n\n  \n\n“Where the fuck have you been?” Daniella’s voice cut through the room like a blade.\n\n  \n\nConner nearly jumped out of his skin, his breath catching in his throat. His head snapped toward her, catching the piercing intensity of her scarlet gaze. Her silhouette barely visible in the dark room.\n\n  \n\n“Uhhhh… driving?” he answered, rubbing the back of his neck.\n\n  \n\n“Mmhmm,” she growled. “Is that what you’ve been doing nearly every night for the past week and a half?”\n\n  \n\n“Y-yeah, why is that such an issue?” he shot back, a little too defensive, trying to steer the conversation away from where he knew it was heading.\n\n  \n\nDaniella’s tail flicked against the floor, her wings twitching in irritation. “For fuck’s sake, Conner, you didn’t answer your damn phone. I had to tell all our friends I had no idea what you were doing—so forget about going anywhere for your birthday.”\n\n  \n\nConner sighed as he stepped deeper into the living room, shrugging off his sweater and tossing it and his hat onto the couch. Without a word, he knelt in front of the fireplace, brushing ash aside with the back of his hand.\n\n  \n\n“You let the fire go out again,” he muttered, running his fingers through his hair.\n\n  \n\nDaniella turned away, stepping toward the large windows overlooking the backyard. Her reflection hovered in the dark glass, barely visible, but he could see the tension in her stance—the way her wings pressed tight against her back, her claws flexing against the floor. The air between them felt thick enough to choke on.\n\n  \n\nConner exhaled sharply, rubbing his forehead as he grabbed the fire poker. “Daniella, I—”\n\n  \n\n“A-are you cheating on me?” she whispered.\n\n  \n\nThe fire poker clattered onto the stone hearth as Conner froze. His chest tightened, the weight of her words hitting harder than any punch he’d ever taken. His face twisted in shock, confusion, and—most of all—hurt.\n\n  \n\n“Why the fuck would I ever cheat on you?” His voice came out low, rough with raw pain.\n\n  \n\n“I don’t know!” Daniella snapped, but her voice cracked. “You’re gone late at night, not answering your phone… I just—” She sucked in a shaky breath before turning and walking away, her eyes misty.\n\n  \n\n“You, my friend, are an idiot,” the AI chimed in his ear, its tone laced with amusement. “Glad I don’t have to deal with relationship drama.”\n\n  \n\nConner clenched his jaw, his hands forming fists at his sides. Spinning on his knees, he almost slammed his fist into the coffee table but caught himself just in time. He had already replaced it once.\n\n  \n\n“You’re a non-biased middle ground—can you talk to her, Computer?” he muttered under his breath.\n\n  \n\n“Consider yourself lucky I’m willing to help,” the AI sighed before going silent.\n\n  \n\nNeeding something to focus on, Conner pulled up the AI’s code on his phone. The voice algorithms had improved drastically over the years. It sounded almost human now, the robotic dryness long gone. He should’ve been proud of that.\n\n  \n\nBut his mind kept replaying Daniella’s words.\n\n  \n\n“I would never cheat on her,” he whispered before tucking his phone away.\n\n  \n\nHis hands worked on instinct as he knelt by the fireplace. Clearing the ash, arranging the coals, laying kindling. Pressing two fingers to the dry wood, he focused, heat building beneath his touch. Smoke curled up before a flicker of flame caught. He didn’t pull away until fire licked between his fingers, dancing in his palm.\n\n  \n\nGrabbing two larger logs, he set them in place, his hand still wreathed in fire. It didn’t bother him—never did. He only closed his fist to snuff the flames once the fire had properly taken hold.\n\n  \n\nStepping back, he watched the flames grow, their flickering glow reflecting in his eyes. Normally, this would help settle his thoughts, but not tonight. He put the cage guard in front of the fireplace before turning away.\n\n  \n\nHe needed the cold.\n\n  \n\nGrabbing his boots, he slipped out the back door, the bitter air biting at his bare arms. He welcomed it, inhaling deeply as snowflakes drifted lazily from the sky. The cold grounded him, settled the storm in his mind. Each breath came easier, clearer.\n\n  \n\nSighing, he trudged through the snow, each step crunching softly beneath his weight. He knew he couldn’t keep hiding things from Daniella. He hated lying to her. But some part of him—some stupid, stubborn part—wanted her to figure it out herself.\n\n  \n\nHe had never been good at words. Actions spoke louder.\n\n  \n\nWith a flick of his wrist, he unholstered his revolver, raising it in his right hand. He pulled the hammer back slightly, just enough for the slight rotation of the cylinder before fully cocking it.\n\n  \n\nA deep exhale.\n\n  \n\nThe shot cracked through the night, echoing across the trees. A distant thunk as the heavy round tore through bark and wood alike.\n\n  \n\nFive more shots followed in quick succession, the raw force of the .500 S\u0026W Magnum kicking hard against his grip. The echoes lingered, rolling through the frozen landscape. Even with the snow dampening sound, the gunfire was ungodly loud.\n\n  \n\nHe listened to the silence that followed, breathing in the sharp, ice-cold air.\n\n  \n\nPulling the hammer back once more, he squeezed the trigger, the seventh shot ripping through the forest. The muzzle flash illuminated the trees for a split second, and he smirked at the sight.\n\n  \n\nThen the eighth and final shot roared into the night.\n\n  \n\nLowering the revolver, he let his arm hang by his side. The tension in his chest had eased—not completely, but enough.\n\n  \n\nSnow continued to drift down around him, the cold wrapping around his skin, seeping into his bones. He stood there for a long moment, possibly ten minutes or more, letting it calm him, settle him.\n\n  \n\nEventually, he turned back toward the house.\n\n  \n\nHe had to face Daniella. He just hoped she was willing to listen.\n\n  \n\n…\n\n  \n\nThat first shot had nearly given her a heart attack. The long, agonizing pause before the second had felt like an eternity.\n\n  \n\nFor a split second, she had feared the worst.\n\n  \n\nDespite the AI’s reassurances, it had remained frustratingly cagey about what Conner had been up to. No matter what it said or thought, Daniella knew one thing—it would never break Conner’s trust.\n\n  \n\n“Girl, I promise you, he hasn’t cheated,” the AI stated firmly. “The nanites would have picked up any trace while cleaning. Your scent is the only one I’ve ever found on him.”\n\n  \n\nDaniella narrowed her eyes. “Are you sure mine was the only one?”\n\n  \n\nA brief pause. Then, a sigh. “I hate to break it to you, but if he kills someone up close, he makes damn sure he doesn’t get any gore on his skin.”\n\n  \n\nDaniella scoffed. “And how do you know that?”\n\n  \n\n“The bar incident. Toronto,” the AI replied dryly. “He didn’t get a drop of blood on him. Yes his Tek suit got covered, but his skin? Spotless.”\n\n  \n\nDaniella grunted, turning to stare out the sliding glass door leading to the balcony.\n\n  \n\nA beat of silence. Then—\n\n  \n\n“Have you cheated on him?” The AI’s tone carried an unmistakable edge, like it was raising a non-existent eyebrow.\n\n  \n\nDaniella frowned, caught off guard. “No. Of course not.”\n\n  \n\n“Mm. Sometimes the accuser projects their own guilt to divert blame.”\n\n  \n\nShe rolled her eyes. “Go ahead and scan me. I know you’d be able to tell if I had.”\n\n  \n\n“Scanning… Genetic Material: Detected… Analyzing…”\n\n  \n\nA pause.\n\n  \n\n“Match found: Conner Stephens.”\n\n  \n\nDaniella exhaled through her nose. “Not a cheater.”\n\n  \n\n“Glad that’s settled. Now, you two better fucking talk, or so help me God.”\n\n  \n\nThe AI went silent.\n\n  \n\nDaniella lingered for a moment, staring at her reflection in the glass before sighing and stepping toward the door.\n\n  \n\n…\n\n  \n\nDaniella took a deep breath before pushing open the garage door. The scent of oil and metal greeted her as she stepped inside, her claws clicking softly against the marble flooring.\n\n  \n\nConner stood at the workbench, his posture rigid as a faint holographic display hovered in front of his eyes. His black revolver rested beside him, the dim light catching on its frame.\n\n  \n\nHe plucked a large brass casing from a reloading press, moving with deliberate stiffness as he poured a faintly purple-tinted powder into the empty shell.\n\n  \n\nDaniella waited until he had finished and set the now loaded cartridge aside before clearing her throat.\n\n  \n\nConner paused, spent brass in hand, before turning to regard her. The heads-up display vanished from his eyes.\n\n  \n\n“Yes?” he asked, his voice flat, unreadable.\n\n  \n\nDaniella met his gaze. “So you didn’t cheat on me?”\n\n  \n\n“No.” Conner sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I can promise you, I did not—and would never—cheat on you.” He hesitated, then pulled off his shirt, exposing the freshly healed bite mark over his shoulder. “I’m yours, Daniella. I always have been.” He chuckled, attempting to lighten the mood. “I think you made that pretty clear when you bit all the way to the bone.”\n\n  \n\nDaniella’s eyes flicked over the scar before locking back onto his. “But you still won’t tell me what you’ve been up to?”\n\n  \n\nConner let out a sharp breath. “Fuck…” He turned away, bracing his hands on the workbench. The veins in his arms bulged as he gripped the bench surface with force.\n\n  \n\nAs he moved, Daniella caught a clearer view of the damage she had left behind. One of her upper canines had nearly punctured his shoulder blade. A pang of regret settled in her chest.\n\n  \n\n“How much did it hurt?” she asked quietly.\n\n  \n\nConner scoffed. “That was almost two weeks ago.” He waved her off.\n\n  \n\n“No, Conner.” Daniella’s voice hardened. “You need to stop doing that. We’re a pair. You don’t get to brush shit off like it doesn’t matter.”\n\n  \n\nShe watched as his shoulders slumped, muscles rippling under his skin nearly ruining her train of thought. He dropped his head with a sigh before glancing back at her. “Of course it hurt,” he admitted. “Your teeth are razor-sharp and serrated.” A dry laugh escaped him. “But… I made damn sure the scar would stay.”\n\n  \n\nDaniella blinked. “What?”\n\n  \n\n“I could’ve used the nanites to repair the wound completely. Minimized the scarring.” He turned, resting a hand on the workbench. “Didn’t even use magic to mend it. Just enough to stop the bleeding.”\n\n  \n\nDaniella’s breath caught in her throat.\n\n  \n\nHe… ensured it would scar? Permanently?\n\n  \n\nHer mind raced. Did he understand what that meant? In her species’ customs, a male making an effort to preserve the mark of his mate was a sign of acceptance—of devotion.\n\n  \n\nConner cocked an eyebrow. “Daniella?”\n\n  \n\nShe couldn’t respond. Her lip quivered, eyes shining with unshed tears.\n\n  \n\n“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Did I do something wrong?” His alarm was genuine, confusion written across his face.\n\n  \n\nBefore he could say another word, she moved—wrapping him in a tight embrace, sitting back on her haunches as she pulled him close.\n\n  \n\n“You did nothing wrong,” she choked out, squeezing him tighter.\n\n  \n\nConner hesitated for only a second before wrapping his arms around her.\n\n  \n\n“I promise you,” he murmured, pressing his forehead against her chest. “I would never cheat. I love you.”\n\n  \n\n* * *\n\n  \n\n“Are you sure this is the best idea?”\n\n  \n\n“What other choice do we have? You’re the Immigration Minister. If anyone’s next on his list, it’s you.”\n\n  \n\nAhmed Fraser tried to ignore the cold weight settling in his gut. One by one, his colleagues had been executed—murdered in cold blood. At least, that’s what he told himself.\n\n  \n\nThe truth? He wasn’t surprised.\n\n  \n\nIt had taken longer than expected, but after years of corruption, deception, and outright manipulation, the Canadian people had finally fought back. And they had a symbol—two of them.\n\n  \n\nBlackout and the Shadow Killer.\n\n  \n\nTheir overwhelming support from the public was staggering. Many suspected Blackout of the killings, but no one had ever found proof. And after nearly five billion dollars’ worth of fentanyl and other illicit substances had been destroyed, followed by the torching of a key storage hub, his colleagues had panicked.\n\n  \n\nAhmed and the last remaining Liberal Party members had been rounded up and stuffed into a convoy of armoured government vehicles, all heading toward a classified bunker. It was the only place left that might keep them safe.\n\n  \n\nThe driver’s radio crackled to life. “Hey, uhhh… single headlight approaching fast from behind.”\n\n  \n\nAhmed frowned, glancing toward his driver. The man didn’t seem concerned.\n\n  \n\n“I’m sure it’s nothing.”\n\n  \n\nThe voice on the radio came back, more strained. “Yeah, about that… the biker’s right on my ass now. All black bike, rider in all black gear. I think. His headlight is blinding.”\n\n  \n\n“Should we—”\n\n  \n\n“Oop, never mind. He pulled over.”\n\n  \n\nAhmed scoffed, crossing his arms. “Who the hell rides in weather like this?”\n\n  \n\nHis driver shrugged. “Temps aren’t that bad. Rained the past two days, but it’s still above freezing. Maybe someone just needed to scratch an itch.”\n\n  \n\nAhmed let out a shaky breath, nodding. “Y-yeah. Probably nothing.”\n\n  \n\nBut it didn’t feel like nothing.\n\n  \n\nHe turned to the window, watching the dark forest blur past. The overwhelming feeling of dread gnawed at his nerves, refusing to let go.\n\n  \n\nThen—something moved.\n\n  \n\nA streak of black zipped past his window at terrifying speed, barely visible in the gloom. A second later, the driver-side windows rattled as a deep, guttural roar split the night air.\n\n  \n\nAhmed sat bolt upright. Just as he was about to dismiss it as his imagination, the driver stiffened.\n\n  \n\n“Did you hear that?”\n\n  \n\nAhmed swallowed. “The windows rattling?”\n\n  \n\n“No.” The driver’s grip on the wheel tightened. “I heard a thump. Like something hit the underside of the car.”\n\n  \n\nCold sweat prickled at the back of Ahmed’s neck. “I… I didn’t hear anything.”\n\n  \n\nThe driver said nothing.\n\n  \n\nAhmed tried to focus, tried to breathe, but his pulse hammered in his ears. He turned back to the window—\n\n  \n\nAnd there he was.\n\n  \n\nA biker crouched next to his motorcycle on the roadside, barely illuminated by the headlights of the vehicles behind them. All black gear. Strange helmet.\n\n  \n\nWatching him.\n\n  \n\nAhmed’s stomach twisted into knots as the biker stood up. No. No way he can see me. The windows are tinted. That’s impossible.\n\n  \n\nBut the biker stood there, unmoving—watching him. Head following the car like a predator locked onto prey.\n\n  \n\nAhmed’s fingers curled into fists. His eyes flicked to the biker’s gear—too reinforced, too bulky. This wasn’t some random biker braving the cold. This was something else. Something familiar.\n\n  \n\nHis breath hitched. No… no, it can’t be…\n\n  \n\nThe silence dragged on for what felt like hours.\n\n  \n\nThe radio crackled once more. “Anyone else see that biker acting weird on the side of the road?”\n\n  \n\nThe driver reached for the radio—\n\n  \n\nAnd something ripped through the car’s side with a shriek of tearing metal.\n\n  \n\nThe driver shouted, yanking the wheel as Ahmed barely had time to register the attack. Then came the almighty boom.\n\n  \n\nAnd the world flipped.\n\n  \n\n…\n\n  \n\nAhmed gasped for air as he awoke, the scent of rain mixing with the sharp sting of shattered glass around him. The rhythmic patter of raindrops on the car’s roof barely registered over the ringing in his ears.\n\n  \n\nDisoriented, he forced himself to focus. Through the now-shattered window beside him, he saw what remained of their convoy—vehicles overturned, engulfed in flames, their twisted frames barely recognizable. Some were still upright but totaled beyond recovery.\n\n  \n\nMemories returned in fractured glimpses. A black blur. A solid impact beneath the vehicle. The biker. Then something long and sharp carving through the car’s side like it was made of paper.\n\n  \n\nAnd then he heard it.\n\n  \n\nDistant at first but drawing closer. Heavy, deliberate footfalls, each step a metallic clang accompanied by the whir of machinery.\n\n  \n\nNot just a machine.\n\n  \n\nA man.\n\n  \n\nA low, menacing chuckle echoed through the night before the footsteps halted. Something thudded against the rear corner of the car, and suddenly, it spun violently. Sparks erupted as metal screeched in protest.\n\n  \n\nAhmed barely had time to register what was happening before he saw him.\n\n  \n\nStrips of red LED light flickered in a distinct pattern across the matte black armour.\n\n  \n\nThe figure stood tall, spinning a sword lazily in one hand, its runic engravings pulsing with an eerie, violet glow. The polished metal caught the dim light as he stepped forward.\n\n  \n\nThat sound… that horrid, inhuman hum.\n\n  \n\nAhmed had only heard secondhand descriptions, but experiencing it in person made his blood run cold.\n\n  \n\n“Something wrong?” Blackout’s voice cut through the storm, cold and mocking.\n\n  \n\nAhmed swallowed hard. “It was you, wasn’t it? The entire time?” His voice trembled.\n\n  \n\n“Astute observation… you half-brained pinecone-muncher.” Blackout snarled, his fingers tightening around the top of the doorframe. His armoured thumb punctured the car’s interior roof lining with ease.\n\n  \n\n“Of course it was me. Who the hell else?” He laughed—a cruel, unhinged sound. Even through the armour’s distortion, Ahmed could picture the sadistic grin beneath the helmet.\n\n  \n\n“You’ll pay for this… all of it,” Ahmed rasped.\n\n  \n\nBlackout tilted his head before letting out a low, guttural chuckle. “You really think you have a chance?” His voice deepened, reverberating through Ahmed’s chest like a dragon’s growl. “Anyone who can build an Iron Man-grade suit in their parents’ basement before turning eighteen has money. You are a fool.”\n\n  \n\n“And this isn’t even the first suit!” Blackout added with a chuckle as the in flight control flaps shifted across the armour.\n\n  \n\nAhmed coughed, struggling to breathe. “What the hell are you?”\n\n  \n\n“I am your worst fucking nightmare,” Blackout declared, leaning off the car. “I can be anywhere. Everywhere.”\n\n  \n\nHe straightened, spreading his arms slightly. “Who do you think’s been funding your party’s opposition? My reach extends further than you could ever comprehend. I know everything… including your little scheme with the CCP to destabilize Canada. Funneling fentanyl into the U.S.? It ends now.” His voice was a growl, each word a death sentence.\n\n  \n\nAhmed barely had time to process before Blackout drew his revolver—a monstrous black S\u0026W .500 Magnum.\n\n  \n\n“Oh… and one more thing.” He leveled the gun. “I know what you did to your brother’s kids.”\n\n  \n\nThe LED strips on his armour pulsed as his voice dropped to a deadly whisper.\n\n  \n\n“Dead pedophiles don’t re-offend.”\n\n  \n\nBOOM!\n\n  \n\nThe gunshot roared through the night, the recoil barely affecting Blackout’s armoured gauntlet. Ahmed’s head burst like an overripe fruit, splattering blood and skull fragments across the ruined car interior.\n\n  \n\nBlackout chuckled before rounding the vehicle, wrenching open the driver’s door. The man inside was rigid, frozen in terror.\n\n  \n\n“Hey.” Blackout smacked him lightly across the face. “Wake up.”\n\n  \n\nThe driver remained motionless.\n\n  \n\n“I can tell you’re faking.” Blackout sighed, irritation creeping into his voice. “Take your phone out and call the police. I’m not going to kill you.” His voice was almost bored as he turned away.\n\n  \n\n“Final target… neutralized.”\n\n  \n\n“Perfect,” Blackout muttered under his breath, the tension bleeding from his shoulders. He glanced back at the driver. “Oh, and one more thing—make sure you tell them. Blackout was behind it all.”\n\n  \n\nWith that, he mounted his bike, the engine roaring to life before he disappeared into the night. Tail light vanishing into the fog as the rain picked up.\n\n  \n\n* * *\n\n  \n\nThe bark of a sportbike downshifting had Daniella nearly falling off the couch. She grumbled to herself as she hopped down, stretching her wings slightly before padding toward the garage door.\n\n  \n\nA loud clang erupted from inside, followed by a muffled groan. Daniella’s brow twitched as she yanked the door open, eyes immediately landing on Conner sprawled out on the floor in his Tek suit. His bike was still running, but he’d clearly put the kickstand out before unceremoniously hitting the ground.\n\n  \n\nShe blinked.\n\n  \n\nConner groaned again, his head shifting in her direction as his suit moved. He raised a hand and snapped his fingers, the bike shutting off immediately.\n\n  \n\n“Yes, hun?” Conner asked, his voice muffled by the faceplate.\n\n  \n\n“You realize our interview with military recruitment is tomorrow, right?” Daniella sighed, talons tapping against the floor as her tail lashed behind her.\n\n  \n\n“Oh fuck!” Conner shot upright so fast he nearly fell over again. His faceplate slammed up, revealing wide, startled eyes. “That’s tomorrow? No, no, it was—shit, I thought—” He tripped over his words, gesturing wildly. “I wasn’t doing anything crazy! Just—uh—getting some fresh air! Yeah, just a quick ride before bed!\" Conner babbled, voice an octave higher than usual. He hesitated, then gestured to his bike. “You know, before I have to be all serious and shit!”\n\n  \n\nDaniella gave him a flat look. “It’s almost midnight.”\n\n  \n\n“Well—yeah, but—”\n\n  \n\n“You were pushing it again, weren’t you?”\n\n  \n\nConner opened his mouth, hesitated, then tried for a casual shrug. “Define ‘pushing it.’”\n\n  \n\nDaniella sighed heavily, rubbing her snout. Her eyes flicked to his hip. His revolver was still holstered… very visible.\n\n  \n\nShe exhaled sharply through her nose. “Fresh air, huh? With your bike that doesn’t have a plate? In the dead of night? With your revolver? What exactly were you doing?”\n\n  \n\nConner hesitated. “...Nothing illegal.” He lied… and she saw right through it.\n\n  \n\nDaniella scoffed. “Oh, so you were just being stupid. Got it.”\n\n  \n\n“I would have been and was fine!” he defended.\n\n  \n\nDaniella rolled her eyes, stepping forward and grabbed his ankle, sending him sprawling across the floor… again with an almighty clang. Before he could protest, she started dragging him across the garage, his armour making an ungodly amount of noise as it scraped against the floor. Helmet thumbing against each stair as they went, which Conner mused was likely intentional on Daniella’s part.\n\n  \n\n“Really?” Conner sighed, head flopping back against the tile as she hauled him through the kitchen and up the stairs. “This is unnecessary.”\n\n  \n\n“I disagree.”\n\n  \n\nBy the time she reached their bedroom, she unceremoniously lifted him onto his feet and pointed a claw at him. “Make your armour clean you.”\n\n  \n\nConner wisely didn’t argue, his faceplate slamming shut as the nanites vapourized any sweat or grime clinging to his skin.\n\n  \n\n“Now take it off.”\n\n  \n\nConner sighed but did as he was told. Before he could say anything, Daniella snatched his compacted Tek suit and stuffed it under his desk before tossing him onto the bed, like he didn’t weigh two hundred fifty pounds.\n\n  \n\n\"Go to bed,\" she growled, climbing in beside him.\n\n  \n\nConner opened his mouth to speak, but she promptly slapped a paw over it, pinning him in place.\n\n  \n\nDaniella sighed, finally settling in. “You understand we need a proper story for tomorrow, right?”\n\n  \n\nConner exhaled heavily through his nose. “Mmhmm.”\n\n  \n\n“They’re going to ask why we want to join, if we’ve killed—”\n\n  \n\nConner finally pried her paw off his face. “Yeah, I’ve got an excuse for that. Scar on my neck’s gonna get mentioned, so I’ll just brush it off as a failed mugging. Dude pulled a knife, I fought back, turned it on him, and he ran off. That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.”\n\n  \n\nDaniella thought for a moment, then groaned, burying her face in the pillow. “We’ll figure out the rest in the morning. Just go to sleep.”\n\n  \n\nConner sighed, finally relaxing as she curled around him. “Yeah, yeah... Good night, hun.”\n\n  \n\nDaniella huffed. “Idiot.”\n\n  \n\n“Love you too!” Conner scoffed in mock offence.\n\n  \n\n“Shut it!” Daniella growled, trying to suppress a laugh.","series":{"name":"A Dragon and Her Human Book 1(Rewrite Rough)","previous":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/2226428-a-dragon-and-her-human-chapter-17-rewrite.json","next":"https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/2243837-a-dragon-and-her-human-chapter-19-rewrite.json"}}