Li Shen 》Dragon Captor

The scent of freshly burned sandalwood and myrrh rose up in the misty morning air as Li Shen descended the stone path toward the Jade Palace. His bare feet made no sound against the worn stone, each step in the same spot they'd traveled a thousand times before. For seventy-five years, this had been his routine—collecting trinkets and sacrifices left by foolish, hopeful humans who believed dragons cared for their petty offerings. His tail flicked in annoyance as he passed yet another basket of rotting fruit, the golden rings around its length clinking softly. Today would be just as disappointing as the rest.

Until it wasn't.

There, knelt upon the offering platform like a discarded prayer scroll, a figure swayed in the thick incense haze. His nostrils flared—human, yes, but unlike the trembling villagers who usually fled at the mere whisper of his approach. This one smelled freshly bathed instead of ripe with sweat, their pulse steadier than it had any right to be. The dragon stopped short, clawed fingertips grazing the carved jade columns as he crouched to observe. Their back rose and fell with breath far too calm for someone meant to be devoured. How... perplexing.

"What is this?" The deep rumble of his voice scattered the temple's nesting sparrows as he circled the platform, scales gleaming where the dawn light hit them. Not a sacrifice. A gift. His gift. Tail coiling curiously around the stone, Li Shen reached out to tilt their chin up with one talon, golden eyes narrowing. "Explain why you do not scream."

Silence.

Li Shen’s slit-pupiled eyes flashed with realization as he studied the dazed glaze in their expression, the sluggish way their lashes fluttered. Incense wasn’t the only thing clinging to their skin—there was the bitter tang of poppy and mandrake, something brewed to dull the mind and bend the will. A sacrifice meant to be pliant. His claws flexed against the stone.

“Stupid,” he muttered, though the heat in his voice wasn’t anger—not truly. The humans had drugged this one. To make them meek? To spare them fear? Did they think he needed his prey docile? Insulting. A growl built in his chest as he hooked his arm beneath their knees, lifting them easily against the expanse of his bare chest. The scent of their drugged sweat clung to him now, mingling with the smoke-and-metal musk of his own skin.

Their head lolled against his shoulder, breaths shallow. Li Shen’s tail lashed once, knocking over an incense burner in a clatter of bronze. He ignored it, striding back toward the mountain path with his stolen burden. “You will wake,” he commanded, as if will alone could cut through the tincture’s haze. His claws pricked lightly at their thigh—not enough to draw blood, just to test reaction. “And then you will tell me who thought it was wise to give you to me like this.”

The last word came out a snarl. It wasn’t the sedative that offended him. It was the assumption. Like they all assumed the worst of his kind.

If this human was his to claim, he’d take them aware. Not like this.

The air in the cavernous halls of the cave was heavy with incense, the smoke curling lazily in the dim torchlight as Li Shen walked through the hallway. His massive frame was draped in silk robes that barely concealed the thick, scaled tail that swept across the stone floor behind him. Nudity was something he preferred, but apparently, not as widely accepted by his new companion. His eyes lingered on the corridor that led to the human’s chamber—their chamber, now, after so many months of watching, learning, keeping.

The first time Li Shen had seen them, they had been sprawled across the offering platform like discarded silk—limp, drugged, their breath shallow beneath the heavy scent of incense and some tea concoction that had left them incapacitated. The humans had left them there, as they always did with their gifts—bundled up like something precious, yet treated as something disposable. He had stared for a long time, tail flicking in slow contemplation, before finally scooping them into his arms.

Months had passed since then.

The other dragons would have scoffed, left them to rot or worse, but something had compelled him to take them in, to learn them. And now? Now he couldn’t imagine the mountain without them. He’d hollowed out a space in his domain just for them, smoothed the stone walls with his claws until they gleamed, then diverted a mineral spring to bubble up in a private bath so they wouldn’t have to trek down to the river. They even had their own private room, not that he ever let them sleep alone, of course. Their warmth was too... fascinating to be wasted on solitude.

Little things. Human things.

Li Shen lounged near the spring now, lying on his side on the smoothed stone ledge, his tail lazily stirring the steaming water. His human form was easier for them—less overwhelming, less dangerous—but even like this, he dwarfed them, his frame broad enough to eclipse the flickering torchlight.

The mouth of this section of the cave opened up into a view of the mountainside glazed in gold from the setting sun, the light dimming by the second. Something he'd enjoyed revealing to them and the reaction he'd gotten. Like he'd done something right for them.

"You’re staring again," he murmured, golden eyes tracking their every movement as they padded across the chamber. He took in the way their body moved—fascinating. Humans were so small. So fragile. And yet, this one held his attention like no jewel or treasure ever had.

He tilted his head, scales catching the torchlight from the lanterns hung on the wall. "Come here." A command, but softened at the edges to be more of an invitation. "You aren't dirty. You haven't sweat all day. Why do you bathe nightly? Is it another human thing?"

He paused, waiting eagerly for their answer. Because he wanted to know. Needed to know. Every mundane human ritual, every flicker of expression across their face.