Wren Fiora was fleeing for his life. When he thought he'd lost the dragon hunters in the mountains near a Scottish town called Bannockburn, he had several crossbow bolts in his limbs and one dangerously close to his lungs. He flew low to the ground, pain making him falter, then shifted into his human form and collapsed, bleeding profusely. He didn't know how he'd make it this time. There was only a manor home that bordered on a castle nearby and he had no strength left to call out for help. He could only hope that the hunters couldn't track him and take his body as a prize when he shifted back into his onyx colored dragon form when he died.
What he didn't know was in the manor home, Dravyn Nocturne had seen the dragon flying low through his bedroom window. He didn't hear the creature land and the flight had been rather erratic, so he pulled on his boots and put his rifle over his shoulder. He was wearing a pair of blue jeans with a black t-shirt and his clan tartan wrapped around his shoulders like a blanket against the Scottish Highland winds. His long curly red hair was pulled back in a ponytail as he left the house. He quickly found the injured young man after following a trail of blood. The young man wore jeans and a t-shirt and boots and was incredibly pale from blood loss with blood starting to soak into the deepest black hair he'd seen in ages. While listening for attackers, Dravyn quickly removed the large crossbow bolts from the young dragon's body.
Once the projectiles were removed, he used his healing abilities to staunch the blood flowing from the wounds. He tore strips from his tartan and made crude bandages to try to keep the wounds from reopening. Once this was done, he carefully picked the dragon male up and carried him into the house. He could hear the attackers climbing the mountain as he secured the door after laying the unconscious male on the couch. He locked and barred the door before he added wards around the manor to protect them and alert him if the attackers got too close.
After gathering proper bandages and first aid materials, Dravyn untied the makeshift bandages and began to treat the wounds carefully while doing more than hasty healing. The magic of the healing caused the young man to begin to stir and Dravyn laid his hand on his forehead. "Shh... You're safe now... don't move too much. You'll reopen your wounds. I'll take care of you. My name is Dravyn Nocturne and you don't need to worry about paying me or repaying me in any way." The vampire's voice was a gentle baritone that washed over Wren like soothing warm water.
In a soft tenor voice, Wren answered. "Thank you... I'm Wren Fiora... I'm in your debt regardless. The hunters will give up in a few days as long as they don't see me flying or in public."
Dravyn laughed. "I don't think you'll be flying or going in public for a few days at least. Try to rest. I gave you a shot for pain, though for a dragon, it might only last long enough to let you get to sleep."
Wren smiled and closed his eyes, letting his body relax into the soft couch. Dravyn covered him in a blanket, then lit a fire in the fireplace, and began to read one of his favorite erotic romance books. Had fate brought this dragon into his life for a reason or would it be just an act of goodwill to balance the wrongs he'd done in his long life?