Chapter Thirty-One Myla
He hisses a sharp sound through his teeth, crimson blood pooling beneath his finely tailored tunic. “Fucking bastard!”
I click my tongue and resume my walking, wiping my blade on his clothing as I do. “I thought we were on the same page? To think I found someone who might understand me,” I tease, my words met with a forced laugh.
“We are surely more alike than you think.”
“Shall we compare? I’ll go first. I enjoy killing those who believe themselves to be exempt from any kind of consequence. Your turn.”
The sound of blood dripping into the dirt sends a jolt of satisfaction through me, but it’s interrupted when Sir Dae speaks through a labored breath. “I enjoy giving value to females who, otherwise, would be nothing more than a waste of space and air.”
I snap forward and cut into his chest again, creating an ‘x’. Control. I am in control.
“Rape and torture hardly seem like things one should be grateful for, let alone find value in,” I respond.
He attempts a shrug, grunting as he moves. “It gives them a story, and I pay them handsomely for their time.”
This time, it’s me who laughs as I round his hanging body, coming to his side. “A story? What is a story to someone who is no longer themselves because of what you’ve done to them?”
“It’s more than they had before.”
“Pathetic,” I growl, digging my dagger into the space between his ribs. “The way males think themselves above the world.”
A deep noise rumbles from his throat, but he doesn’t whimper in pain. “Why should we believe differently when the gods themselves designed it this way?”
I am sick of hearing about the gods and their so-called divine rule. Sick of the males who believe these gods speak directly to them and for their own benefit.
And I am fucking tired of not hearing this male scream.
I slam the blade into his ribs until the hilt meets his skin, finally rewarded with a guttural shout that echoes off the walls. As if realizing that he can make such a noise, he begins shouting again, his previously calm demeanor evaporating.
“Look at that,” I muse, yanking the blade out and then wiping his blood on his cheek, laughing when I see the tear that stains the skin there.
“You bleed as equally as any whore. As any female or peasant or anyone else you believe yourself to be above.” Reaching up, I tug the black cloth covering half my face down and let my natural voice come to the surface. “And you’ll die the same as them too.”
Sir Dae’s eyes—glossy and red—focus on my features, bouncing back and forth between my delicately pointed chin and the fullness of my lips.
I’m denied the shock and surprise I’m yearning for when he scoffs instead, lifting his head away from mine.
“When you’re caught and the kingdom realizes it is a female who has been pretending as you have, they will show you no mercy. ”
I nod as I stand before him, my fingers clutching the frayed hilt of my dagger. “I’m beyond mercy, and as you mentioned yourself, no one cares about what I’m doing.”
“If you kill me, they will care.”
I smile wide enough to show my elongated canines. “Because you’re so important?”
“Killing me has consequences beyond just saving those no one else cares about. You’re an amateur, and it shows.”
“Maybe,” I acknowledge. Sir Dae is one of the most high profile targets I have ever gone after.
It had taken months of meticulously tracking the victims with my informant for us to figure out who was responsible for leaving them in such horrific states.
Because of his noble name and the money associated with it, Sir Dae has been able to pay to keep mouths shut.
I can only threaten so many people before I become at risk of being exposed.
Maybe killing him will amplify that risk. But maybe I don’t fucking care.
His torture is slow and meticulous as I cut into is soft flesh over and over again.
Yet, for all the pain I inflict, not once does he beg me to stop, and when he finally stops breathing and new blood stops layering atop the old, I find that the usual sense of relief I feel after a night like this is absent.
Instead, something I can’t quite name takes residence in the hole in my chest. Something darker and more like dread than I’ve ever felt before.
I push it down, leaving it to fester within me like everything else while I work on disposing of Sir Dae’s body.
I wrap my cloak more firmly around my shoulders, the fabric doing a half decent job at warding off the late-night chill.
Stars flicker above me, the silver light of the moon shining down between the pines as I make my way from my warehouse to Bali and Sunis’s cave.
There are still a few hours until the sun crests, and while my body aches and my head pounds in time to my steps, I still can’t shake that ominous feeling.
It chased me the entire journey to the dragon fields, disappearing when I looked over my shoulder only to descend upon me again the moment I turned back around.
Despite the way I turn over Sir Dae’s words in my head, searching between them for the reason I feel so off, I keep coming back to the same question: What if he was right?
Being Khargis’s Shadow isn’t a completely altruistic venture.
It is becoming someone in the dark that I can’t be in the light.
I am feared. I am respected. I am someone.
What if tonight, I had thrown that all away because there is no line I am unwilling to cross?
The scent of sulfur is strong when I finally break from the trees and step onto the gravel outside of the cave.
To my left are more mountains and dragon caves, though they are far enough away that if any beasts are residing within them, I can’t tell.
To my right, the dragon fields extend for acres.
Like the last time I came, piles of remains smolder beneath the remnants of dragon fire, dotting the land in a haunting yellow glow.
I blow out a breath, wincing at the pain at my ribs, and plant my feet on the ground. “Bali!”
Leather wings rustle, a deep rumble answering my call, but I realize too late that it isn’t coming from the darkness in front of me.
It’s coming from behind. Heat in the form of a menacing exhale blasts my back, doing nothing to the shot of fear that slides down my spine like ice.
Swallowing, I turn slowly, hoping that giving my back to the cave is the smarter choice, and come face to face with a dragon from the Hiravar line.
I stare down the bumps and ridges of his snout, his nostrils angled as he snarls at me, showing off his jagged teeth—some of which are stained with blood.
These dragons are the smallest of the three types, but that knowledge is inconsequential when he can still swallow me whole.
Round dark green scales frame a pair of glossy, luminous yellow eyes, and I only hold the dragon’s glare for a moment before I drop my own to the ground.
Everything Navin has told me about dragons and everything I have read about the different breeds myself rushes through me at once, the information categorizing itself as I recall what the fuck I am supposed to do in this situation.
With an active bond, there is a given level of protection from another’s dragon.
Without that connection, however, I am no better than any of the unlucky piles of singed bones out on the dragon field.
The ground shakes beneath my boots, sending shockwaves up my legs as a deep growl draws my attention over my shoulder and to the cave.
Expecting Bali, I smirk as a black-scaled dragon emerges, the silver light from above pouring over her.
Except it isn’t the domineering dragon I know rules these fields but her smaller daughter.
“Shit,” I whisper, watching as she winds her head from side to side, a warning growl showing off her still very menacing and very sharp teeth.
Her claws dig into the ground, sending pebbles and dirt flying with each step she takes.
Though she is a younger dragon, her Khar lineage makes her just as big as the green dragon, and when she gives him another thundering roar of warning, she snaps her wings out to the sides, making her appear even larger.
Hunching low on her front two legs, she pauses like a cat waiting to pounce.
Sandwiched between the two of them, sweat pools on my palms.
The Hiravar dragon doesn’t back down, flaring his own wings out as he raises his head, taking a defensive stance against Sunis.
My feet are moving before I mentally tell them to, running to the side to get out of the Hiravar’s way.
The air stirs above me as a green tail slices through it, and I dive onto my stomach, my body connecting with the ground harshly enough for stars to flare behind my eyes.
My ribs scream in protest, air punched out of my lungs until I’m left gasping.
Sunis swipes at the Hiravar’s chest, her claws scraping against the rough, leathery skin devoid of scales.
The green dragon whines, the sound piercing as he backs up a step.
A ridiculous amount of pride surges through me as Sunis advances, communicating her displeasure through a series of gruff growls.
Pushing myself up to stand, I catch the attention of the Hiravar, his head snapping towards me while those yellow eyes narrow into slits.
The sight is terrifying, and I lay my hands on my vest where throwing daggers are sheathed on instinct, despite knowing they will not help me at all.
My heart pounds in my throat as I cast a quick look to the cave Sunis came from and to the forest that leads back to the palace.
Both options are less than desirable, but staying here will get me killed, and I’d rather not have Sunis fighting for me without our bond in place.
With my decision made, I bolt to my left.