Chapter 39
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Anticipation courses through me as I reach up to unhook the latch on the window.
I have spent too many years allowing other people to have power over me.
Now, I will finally start taking it back.
Instead of worrying about what everyone will think of me, I will finally shove the real truth right in their faces.
I shouldn’t be worried about them. They should be worried about me.
Pulling the window open on silent hinges, I rise up onto my toes and cast a quick look inside. A smile blows across my lips.
This tavern is perfect. Galen really did know what he was doing when he picked it.
It’s close enough to the Silver Clan’s barracks to be convenient, but not so close that it’s full of off duty soldiers.
Instead, only three people are sitting at the scratched wooden tables inside.
Three male dragon shifters who apparently have nothing better to do during the day than to chug flagons of ale, one of whom appears to own this less than reputable establishment.
After checking to make sure that they are all still focused on the mugs before them, I grab the frame and climb onto the windowsill.
Moving silently, I climb in through the window and drop down on the floor at the back of the tavern.
We need to make sure that the rats have nowhere to run when we spring our trap.
I quietly close the window behind me again and then sneak across the stained floorboards and towards the open doorway that I’m assuming leads into a kitchen.
Given the overpowering smell of spilled alcohol and sweat, and the distinct lack of food scents, I’m assuming that it’s empty, but I glance inside anyway.
Just as I predicted, only dirty pots and pans meet me when I look inside the kitchen.
Twisting back around, I shift my attention back to the owner and his two patrons.
The tavern keeper is sitting by the table closest to the bar.
His thick brows are furrowed as he writes something in a ledger that barely fits between the three mugs of ale that take up most of the space.
A short distance away, the two patrons are seated at separate tables.
Both of them have their backs to me, but based on the way they’re sitting, they’re in a bad mood.
The one on the left is gripping his mug as if he is trying to strangle it, and the other guy sets his down with a hard thump after taking a swig.
Anger crackles through me with shocking force.
What could they possibly have to be angry about?
They didn’t watch their parents get murdered right in front of them.
They don’t have to live with the devastation of never knowing if their parents loved them.
They haven’t been forced to stand helplessly in another city while someone whips their mate’s wings and then shackles them together.
They’re members of the Silver Clan who rules more than half of this world.
They have no idea what it means to be angry.
The door is yanked open.
From my place at the back of the tavern, I watch all three of them jerk upright at the sudden disturbance.
“Careful with the door,” the owner growls from his table. “I just had it replaced after…”
He trails off, and his gray eyes widen, as Draven Ryat prowls into his dingy tavern. All color drains from the tavern keeper’s face as Draven comes to a halt right inside the threshold. The door swings shut behind his muscular back with a thud.
For one single second, the entire tavern is frozen in time. I swear even the candles on the tables stop flickering for that one moment.
Then all three Silver Clan members scramble to their feet. Wood scrapes against wood as they leap out of their chairs so fast they almost knock them over. Mugs wobble on the rickety table as the guy to my right hits the table leg with his foot on the way up.
“Gorden, alert the Icehearts,” the tavern keeper snaps while whipping his head towards the blond patron on my left. Then he jerks his chin at the dark-haired guy who almost knocked his table over. “Kil, get the guards.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t do that, if I were you,” I say.
Whirling around, they stare at me in shock where I’m standing behind them, leaning one shoulder nonchalantly against the wall.
Then panic flashes across their faces, and they immediately spin around again so that they don’t have their backs to Draven.
But since they can only face one direction, that of course leaves their backs unprotected from me.
Pushing off from the wall, I start towards the three dragon shifters who are now keeping their eyes firmly on Draven.
My mate just leans back casually against the door, crossing his arms over his chest and one ankle over the other. His entire body language is practically dripping with nonchalant power and lazy arrogance. A smirk spreads across his lips, and he lets out a chuckle.
“What’s so funny, traitor?” the tavern keeper snarls at him.
“The fact that you have it all wrong. I am not the most dangerous person in here.” His golden eyes glint as he nods towards me. “She is.”
The three of them quickly twist towards me again.
Confusion, and a hint of wariness, flits across the tavern keeper’s face as he looks me up and down.
The blond patron, Gordon, does the same.
The third guy, Kil, is neither convinced nor intimidated.
He lets out a mocking scoff as he flicks a dismissive glance over my body before meeting my eyes.
His boots thud against the stained wooden floor as he starts towards me.
“I’d recommend simply obeying our orders,” I tell him while he advances on me. Sliding out my dagger, I flash him a vicious smile. “Or this is about to get messy.”
Anger pulses across his face. “I will not take orders from some skinny little fae bitch who thinks she’s—”
I slash my knife at him.
He jumps back, surprisingly fast for someone who has four empty mugs of ale on his table, and twists to the side to avoid the blade. It misses his chest but nicks his upper arm instead. And that is all I need.
Summoning my magic, I shove it straight at that violet spark of pain that flares up in his chest. He cries out in pain as I pour a flood of magic into it, increasing that flame until it roars like a wildfire. Screams of pure agony rip from his chest, and he collapses down on the ground.
I stand there over him, increasing the strength of my magic, and watch him writhe in pain at my feet.
“Please,” he gasps out. “Please, stop.”
Staring down at him with merciless eyes that are glowing with magic, I keep increasing his pain until he screams and breaks into panicked sobs. He reaches a shaking hand towards my boots.
“Please, I’m begging you,” he sobs.
I kick his hand aside and continue increasing my magic.
“I’ll obey,” he cries. “Please, I’ll do whatever you want.”
A vicious smile curls my lips, but I finally cut off my magic. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
He just curls in on himself and sobs on the floor.
I slide my gaze to Gordon and the tavern keeper. “Anyone else?”
Fear crashes over their features, and they quickly raise their hands and drop to their knees.
My whole soul pulses with satisfaction. All my life, I have been at someone else’s mercy. So watching three grown men get down on their knees and surrender is so deeply satisfying that it makes me feel drunk on power.
Across the room, Draven watches me from where he is still leaning nonchalantly against the door. His eyes burn with such hunger that it snatches my breath right out of my lungs. It looks like he wants to shove me up against the wall and fuck my brains out right here.
The sight of it makes my soul vibrate with pleasure.
I was so worried about what Draven would think when he found out about the endless rage and hatred that have been building inside me for decades. I was worried that it would change the way he looks at me. That it would make him stop loving me.
But it hasn’t. It’s the exact opposite.
He loves this ruthless side of me. He loves seeing me powerful and in control. He loves the darkness in me as much as the light.
“What do you want?” the tavern keeper stammers while casting panicked glances between me and Draven.
“We want you to run up to the elite soldiers’ barracks and tell Sharptail that his cousin is brawling here in your tavern,” Draven says, locking eyes with the terrified man. “Bring him, and only him, here straight away.”
The tavern keeper jerks his chin down in a couple of frantic nods.
“If you even think about betraying us…” A cruel smile spreads across Draven’s lips.
“I won’t,” he stammers. “I swear, I won’t.”
“Excellent.” Draven at last uncrosses his arms and pushes off from the door. Taking one single step to the side, he jerks his chin towards the door. “Then get to it.”
The terrified tavern keeper flicks a glance at me. I nod, giving my permission as well. Scrambling up from the floor, he swallows and then starts edging towards the door.
“Today, if you don’t mind,” I say in response to his slow pace.
He jumps and then hurries forward with quicker steps.
On the floor before me, Kil continues sobbing where he is still lying curled up on his side.
Gordon, still on his knees with his hands raised, is white as a sheet.
The tavern keeper cringes and bows his shoulders when he is forced to pass by right in front of Draven to reach the door.
Smug satisfaction pulses inside me as I watch him run out the door to do our bidding. Across the dirty floor, Draven and I exchange a villainous grin.
Goddess help the rest of the world when Draven and I are on the same side.