Chapter 6 #2
“You deserve it,” she snarls. “You deserve to pollute the earth with your corpse rather than walk and talk and breathe.”
She lifts her gaze to mine and her blazing intensity would make any dragon proud.
“Do I? I’ve never even met you. So how do you know if I deserve it or not?”
“I saw what you did to my people. I watched you fight.” Her voice breaks. “You killed them.”
There we are, spinning around in circles. We’ve reached the tail of the serpent only to see fangs.
I press her harder against the stone. “My skills are vast, as you saw, but I can’t take responsibility for the roast.”
I can, and I do. She doesn’t need to know.
A round of dark chuckles sound at my joke, and a slap of flesh on flesh means someone has congratulated someone else. My money is on Tristan.
“Tell me how you couldn’t keep your eyes off me,” I push the redheaded girl, taunting her, forcing her to focus. “Tell me how your gaze tracked my every movement. Did you like what you saw? Did you find me attractive?”
Had Roman taunted my mother the same way? Bile rises up my throat at what I’m saying. But in order to save this fiery woman and her people, I can’t pull back.
“I was marking your weakness. The better to kill you when I get my hands on you.” She snarls again and flashes white teeth at me.
“Your hands are on me now.” I lean closer until she gasps, the sound strangled, and I hate myself even more. “If you’d like to pursue it further, then now is your best chance.”
Letting go of her is a mistake. I know it as surely as I know the importance of this moment, although the reason is nebulous and unformed. We’re on the precipice of something momentous.
“You are an imbecile. I’d no more touch you than I would touch a basilisk.”
One of the children whimpers.
“An imbecile?” I repeat. “I think you can be a little more creative.”
“Dragon dung, then,” she corrects sharply.
“Ah, there you go.” I push my body against hers, trapping her between me and the stone, and her groan shifts to a scream, the sound trapped in her chest, peeling any sense of honor I think I still have from me.
I grit my teeth and push the ploy even further. “Perfect. You fit exactly what I was looking for.”
“Let go of me!”
Messing with her isn’t one of my finest moments. How do I buy the time to figure out what to do, and how to get the children out? Death will be a much fairer sentence for these people than what awaits them at the hands of Tristan and the soldiers.
“Why would I let go when you’re so determined to fight me? It’s… fascinating.”
The first thing I should have done was to tackle Tristan with some excuse rather than letting him find the cave. The second would be to wipe the image of the redhead out of my head.
She uses both hands to shove against me. “Stop!”
A sneer twitches at the corners of her mouth. A clue. She’s given herself away.
I react in time to grab her wrists before she takes a swing at me, her bones fragile and delicate between my fingers, then wrench her arms above her head a second time.
Hard enough to bruise.
Hard enough to force her to shut up.
Yes, I’m the monster, but I’m not half as bad as the others. My chest aches, and my breathing is shallow. Mozi prowls in the back of my head watching the proceedings through my eyes, his confusion palpable without words.
“Do you want to be my prize? The singular war prize taken from Fallkirk today?” I’m in no position for a prize, only punishment. “Do you want to be my personal prize? To make up for what your rebellion cost the kingdom?”
The lewd comments do the trick.
“What it cost the kingdom?” Tears clog her voice and add a glossy sheen to her eyes. “How dare you.”
Trapped in the middle of this less than stellar situation, it’s impossible to show respect at her reaction.
Her fight is a thing of beauty and she’d do well on the back of any dragon, this fiery ember of a human.
Slight she may be, but she reacts with a depth of volatility that sends cold surprise cascading along my vertebrae.
I tighten my hold on her and widen my legs, bearing down and adjusting my balance before she gets the upper hand.
Again.
I’ve already given too much.
“It’s better when they put up a fight,” Tristan crows. “Don’t you think so, lads?”
The soldiers react with roars of delight, exactly the way my cousin expects them to, but their focus is on me and not the children.
The redhead breathes heavily, her chest rising and falling and the frantic motion bringing her closer against my chest. Despite the layers separating us, the rapid pace of her heartbeat ripples through me, and my own thankless organ struggles to match it.
My head goes light.
“I hate you.”
She uses my grip on her wrists to her advantage. With her arms secure, she lifts her lower half off the ground and tries to donkey kick me. I step closer and cut off the movement before she has a chance to actually hurt me.
“You are going to get what you deserve,” she yells.
This is no hysterical woman. This is a creature forged by loss and grief. I know the feeling.
A piece of paper flutters down from her vest, the crisp white edges a contrast to the muddy colored granite. It flickers out of sight, a fallen bird made of paper, and I glance away to mark its spiraling trajectory.
“Hm. Look at this.” I gesture to the paper. “Want to tell me what we’ve got?”
Tristan does nothing without intention. His movements are cocky and mind numbingly vain as he bends for the paper. Plucking it from the floor, he holds it in front of his face, prying the edges apart.
He leers at the redhead before casting the expression across the rest of the subdued group. “What do we have here?”
Nimble fingers pry open the edges of the paper, the black script and the flourished signature at the bottom instantly recognizable.
“Oh, dragon dung.” My under the breath curse has my captive stilling.
Even though I don’t face them, I know the others are more than likely glancing at each other in confusion.
Tristan roars with laughter. “An acceptance letter,” he tells the others. “To DragonSpear Academy. It seems our captive is quite the intrepid mind, isn’t she?”
The rest of the soldiers laugh dutifully along with the observation and I’m the only one silent. The only one tense and waiting for something to give when the world feels as though it’s tilted on its axis.
I’ve seen the redhead fight. She has to be skilled and strong in order to get into the Academy, not simply intelligent. The criteria for acceptance are stringent and only the best of the best make it to graduation.
The rest are culled like blighted plants from a crop.
Tristan swipes his knuckles against his eyes to clear them. “Dragon’s teeth, I needed that.”
“My future is funny to you?” the redhead gripes. “Or is your life depressing enough that you need to feed on others’ misery to feel better about yourself?”
She’s not struggling anymore but energy coils tightly in her bunched muscles. One wrong move and she’ll sense my weakness and react.
“Future? Darling, you’re not going to DragonSpear,” Tristan corrects, his tone dripping with false sympathy. “You have an entirely different future in front of you and I personally can’t wait to see it.”
The soldiers suppress their snickers of superiority but only just. No one says a word as Tristan tears the acceptance letter into pieces with one impressive yank.
I glance behind me in time to watch his gaze burn over her, pausing on her breasts and her hips.
“Enough,” I grind out. “Stop fighting. You’re outmanned.”
She stops moving and I look away. I want to break something. I may shatter my fist if I send it against the cavern wall, but will it matter? I’ve shattered bones in the sparring ring before.
Or this may be a good thing. My exhausted mind churns endlessly through the possibilities of taking the redhead to DragonSpear. I may be able to use her to my advantage. This beautiful creature, with fire in her soul, spurred by vengeance, can be useful to my plans.
Which means I’m going to need to keep her close.
And do my best to make sure she’s out of Tristan’s widespread reach before he destroys her as well.