A Kingdom of Ruin (Deliciously Dark Fairytales Book 3)(29)

“Definitely not. I don’t know why he says the things he does.”

“Don’t you? Hmm. Do you know why they allow you to wear that sword and have access to your dragon?”

“Yes.”

“You have not tried to kill anyone with your very pretty, very fine, likely very sharp sword.”

I didn’t respond. Saying nothing sounded so much better than admitting the demon king was mocking me for all to see.

Another click sounded within the dungeon. Metal tinkled against metal from several other locations simultaneously.

Mr. Baritone turned and walked toward the stairs. Doors swung open and people stepped out. My heart picked up speed. This wasn’t right. All these dragons could get out, but they weren’t escaping—their focus was on me.

Maybe unmuffle that bond, I thought with shaking legs.

Light washed through the dungeon. Mr. Baritone had clicked them on. He didn’t mount the stairs, though. He started walking my way.

Vemar squinted and blinked, getting used to the difference. His gaze drifted downward over my body, settling on the sword.

“Open that door, Vemar,” Mr. Baritone commanded. Although his voice was deep and the command was intentional, it was threaded with none of the power usually carried by an alpha’s command.

Vemar chuckled again and stepped closer to the cell door. “You haven’t even taken it out of the sheath. I was trying to get as far away as possible so that you wouldn’t stick me with it, and you haven’t even reached for it.”

“I could’ve stuck you with it when you were walking toward the door. You were close enough.”

“This is true, Strange Lady, and yet you didn’t. Does that mean you like me? I see that mark on your neck. Will you choose me to lay mine on top? I’m sure I could dominate you.”

My dragon huffed and didn’t even bother to comment. If it had been Nyfain saying that, she would’ve purred and preened and tried to kick his ass. I could only assume an alpha of note would at least raise her hackles. Cleary she wasn’t worried about this guy.

A sly smile slid across Vemar’s face. “No, huh? Now I am curious about who made this claim if I am not enough. I wish Micah could scent it. I wonder if he would be driven mad with the desire to force his claim.”

“He would die if he tried,” I said without thinking.

Vemar’s onyx eyes darted up, taking my measure. That smile stretched a little wider.

“Hmm” was the only sound he made.

He worked the lock as those who were leaving their cells congregated in the middle of the dungeon. The obice meant no one could escape.

Metal clicked, and Vemar extracted his tools, sliding them behind his ears and essentially making them disappear in his mass of tightly curled hair. He grabbed a bar and pulled the door open, filling the doorway so I couldn’t get out.

“Now what?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Now we see what you will not show the officers, I think.”

I frowned at him. I wasn’t sure what that meant.

He stared at me placidly.

The people in the middle of the dungeon moved, the small crowd curling in on itself and then stepping away to the sides. One figure walked toward me.

Tamara, shadows moving across her deeply tanned face the closer she got. Ragged shreds of clothes hung over her somewhat bony body, much like Vemar. Much like all of them. But it would be a mistake to assume they were as weak as they looked.

“Come out, come out, little dragon,” she said.

Vemar peeled away to the side, leaving the doorway open for me to step through.

No sense hiding in the cage.

No, no sense at all. Rush to meet them, my dragon bit out.

I breathed through her rush of power, refusing to succumb to the fire sizzling in my blood.

I didn’t know if they were my foes yet. Not for sure. Maybe there was still a chance I could work them around to my side. Get them to fight with me.

Through the door, I stepped left, away from Vemar. He made no move to crowd me.

Tamara continued toward me, in no hurry. Her deep hazel eyes sparkled with intelligence and something wild and vicious that made my stomach flutter.

I barely stopped from swallowing the sudden lump in my throat. I felt like I was in trouble, but I had no idea what I might have done. I only knew the consequences would be incredibly severe.





NINE





FINLEY





The small crowd at Tamara’s back moved with her, organizing as they did so. A few women formed a line right behind her, moving in sync as though they’d been fighting together all their lives. The rest fell in behind them, Mr. Baritone keeping to the side, the tallest of them all. He took up a post at the corner of the last cell to the right as the women stopped in front of me.

I pegged Tamara at early thirties. The women behind her varied in age. They didn’t glance down at the sword, but I could feel the weight of their focus on it. Tamara didn’t bother looking at me, looking over my shoulder instead. It was like she’d already taken my measure and found me wanting.

“Where’d you get that sword?” she asked, the edge in her voice giving me chills.

“It’s like I said. I’m from the Wyvern kingdom—”

“I didn’t ask where you’re from,” she said, finally looking me in the eye, “I asked where you got the sword.”