A Kingdom of Ruin (Deliciously Dark Fairytales Book 3)(43)

He said it like roomzzz. Like he’d moved up in the world and had a standing place in the hierarchy here.

“Where do you think this leads?” I demanded of him, pushing to the side of the cage. “Do you think they’re going to welcome you into their society as anything other than a pet? Get a clue, Jedrek. There is no way that you get a happily-ever-after like this.”

He shook his head a little. “Why do you insist on learning the hard way?” He tossed up his hands. “Well, enjoy this. When you’re ready to see reason, let me know.”

My anger grew, turning into blistering power. It scratched against the inside of my skin, wanting to escape. Searing pain erupted along my back before I heard a dull clang. A hand fisted in my dress and yanked me. The bars of the cage knocked into my head. Snapping my eyes open, I almost lashed out, but Micah was staring at me with his deep brown eyes.

“No,” he said, the command shocking into me and freezing me up. “Not here. Rein it in.”

He was flattened against his cage so that he could reach me, holding my dress in a tight grip.

“Break them up,” I heard, and it sounded like Govam.

Micah’s voice was low and intense. His eyes held mine. “I know you weren’t lying—you’ve never shifted before. You have no scales on your back. Do not start now. I can guide you when the time comes, but it can’t happen here. They’ll kill you inside of a minute, do you hear me? No matter who you are.”

I swallowed loudly as guards ran to our cage. They carried a sort of pole with a fizzing end, lightning in stick form.

Micah grinned at me. “They never learn.”

The first guard jabbed the stick through the bars. The end rammed into Micah’s thigh, and I heard a loud buzzing. He gritted his teeth, and the muscles on his face tightened. Another guard jabbed Micah’s lower back. He jerked against the bars like he was being struck by lightning. Still he held me.

“Let go.” I tried to rip loose. “What are you doing? Let go, and they’ll stop!”

He huffed out a laugh as his body convulsed, another jab. “Gotta…reel…them in.”

Without warning, he spun, grabbing two of the poles and yanking them closer. The guards didn’t have the foresight to let go, not wanting their weapons stolen. They held on, their arms ramming against the cage as Micah released the poles and reached through the bars. He grabbed them by their throats, his large hands reaching more than halfway around each. His hands squeezed as he bent, cutting off their air.

The guards dropped their poles and grabbed Micah’s wrists, trying to wrench away. They gaped like fish, their faces turning red.

Other guards rushed closer, but they’d wised up enough not to get too close. They darted in to jab Micah and then quickly away again, afraid he might drop his current victims and go for them. He dealt with the prodding, keeping his grip on the guards’ necks. They struggled, twisted, and thrashed, but could not break free. Finally, their breath all dried up, they went limp in his hold.

“I didn’t see you trying to free your men, Govam,” Micah said in his deep baritone, shoving the guards away. They dropped to the floor, unmoving. The others half danced outside of the cage, their poles in hand and their expressions wary.

“I know better.” Govam made a signal, and the guards pushed back.

“And yet you send your men in…”

“I also know better than to go against protocol.” He waited until the limp guards were carted away before turning and heading back to the corner.

Breathing heavily, clearly fired up, Micah stared after them for a moment. Loud laughter drifted across the shocked silence of the ballroom.

“Another few notches for your wall, Micah,” Vemar called out, waving a hand.

A small group opened up, and I caught sight of Dolion on the other side of the room. He hadn’t donned a human glamor like the others, so he stuck out among this crowd with his blue skin and horns. A small smile graced his face, and his eyes sparkled. He’d liked that showing. He’d liked seeing evidence of our ferocity.

I drifted back to the center of my cage, thinking, wondering what Dolion was getting out of us losing our tempers.

“That Govam is a slick one,” Micah said softly, watching the last captain standing take up residence in his corner.

“He says he knows dragons.”

“He really does. It’s infuriating. I’ve been trying to kill him for years.” He sucked in a breath and noticed the crowd of demons nervously smiling his way. “Looks like I’ll fetch the king a good few pennies tonight.”

“What do you mean?”

He glanced my way before shifting his attention back to the room. “We’re up for auction. This is the preshow. They’ll bid on us before too long. The winner takes their choice. A sex demon gets us in the mood, and then…”

“Shame fucking.”

A crooked smile worked up his face, and he glanced at me again. “I remember you saying that. It doesn’t sound quite so bad when you give it such a succinct label.”

“I learned from the best.”

My anger fanned higher. My dragon still sat right near the surface.

“So that’s why Dolion is pleased,” I murmured, watching him work the room, saying a few things to each guest before moving on. Laughter and pleased smiles followed in his wake. “He’s making money off us.”