A Kingdom of Ruin (Deliciously Dark Fairytales Book 3)(45)

“Until I came along.”

He nodded slowly. “Until you fuck up and get your privileges stripped away, yeah.”

Truer words had never been spoken.

The party continued on. More groups stepped up to ogle Micah, always keeping well away lest he reach through the bars and grab them. A few approached me, but they almost always crinkled their noses and quickly moved on. Only one man stepped closer and narrowed his eyes, studying me intently. Tall and thin, he hid his demon behind a false exterior. I didn’t recognize his scent or face, and he didn’t speak two words to me. In a moment, he walked past Micah and folded himself back into the crowd.

At the end of the night, Dolion took the stage with a sheet of paper in his clawed blue hand.

“I’ll see you on the other side,” Micah said with a note of finality in his voice.

I watched as Dolion announced the winners of the auction by the cage number of the captive. Sex demons oozing magic slunk out of the crowds with smarmy expressions. In a moment, the dragons had been turned into lust bunnies, and the wolves and faeries after them.

Blue-robed people walked away with those who had not been chosen. By the time my cage was called, only a smattering of people were left in the grand ballroom. Nervousness ate at me.

“And finally, my pet,” Dolion said, waving his hand through the air to indicate me. “I’m sure you’ll all agree that she’s still a work in progress. The smell, first of all. You can wash the girl, but it seems you can’t wash the dragon shifter off her.”

A few people laughed at that, clapping politely for some reason.

“Now, without further ado, the after-party. Come—I have a treat in store for all of you.” Dolion smiled at them and took the stairs at the side of the stage, only sparing one quick glance for me. In that look, though, his anger was clear. I was dead weight. If he couldn’t get the smell off, I was no good at these parties.

If I’d thought I’d be returned to the dungeon, I was sorely mistaken. Instead, my home for the night was the whipping post—a post that would be my constant company for the weeks to come. Weeks that sailed by without presenting any opportunity for me to make contact with the shifter prisoners who had more freedom in the castle than we did. Weeks that stagnated my escape plans. Without being able to attend parties or move through the castle, I couldn’t gain the information I so sorely needed.

I needed to figure out how to stop broadcasting Nyfain’s scent, if only so I could socialize. My escape depended on it. Well…that or a miracle.





THIRTEEN





HADRIEL





“Hurry up, Hadriel. We don’t have all day, Hadriel,” I muttered as I hunched on my trusty and spirited mare, who felt about as patient as I did. Bella pranced to the side, eager to get out of these goddess-pissed-on woods. The Royal Wood used to be such a lovely place, but now look. Shits-ville, wasted and twisted and creepy as fuck. I hated it.

Which was why I was more than a little perturbed when the master had to stop and jack off.

My heart twisted, but I refused to look away. He sat behind a tree off to the side, not even fully out of view, and yanked on his cock. He moaned and writhed, pumping into his hand and tilting his head back.

I should be used to this kind of thing. I was used to this kind of thing, when normal people were doing it. Not with him, though. Not like this.

Because he was only doing it to help Finley.

Tears glossed my eyes, but I continued to stare. I forced myself to stare. I was bearing witness. She was being hurt, he was doing a deed that must’ve ripped out chunks of his bloody heart to do while she was being hurt, and I sat here like fart stains on underwear doing fuck-all.

I hated this. I hated all of this.

It was killing me.

It was killing all of us.

Most of all, though, it was killing him.

What the master was doing was an act of selflessness and devotion to compensate for acts of violence and cruelty, and I’d had about enough. I didn’t mind admitting that I was on the verge of breaking. He was breaking, I was breaking—we were all fucking breaking.

This had been going on for nearly two months, give or take. It felt like longer, it might’ve been shorter—I didn’t fucking know anymore. However long it had been, it was too long. She needed help. Slap my ass and call me Betty, the woman clearly needed help, and that hot, big-dicked prince was just not enough. Someone had to do something more.

I didn’t know how much longer I could hold out without doing something stupid, like trying to rescue her. I knew where those portals were. Studying the pattern for a few nights had been enough for me to crack the code. The rest was just overkill. Yet I still made a meticulous record of every demon creature killing. I put together maps and a schedule. And after the master realized what I was doing, he insisted on checking out the locations in person. I’d gotten it right, and now he no longer needed to spend all night hunting for the demon creatures. He just stuck close to the portals and ruined them as they came in. We’d also gotten proof that the curse still prevented him from leaving the kingdom. He’d tried to step through one of the portals and was seared by the magic. Thank the goddess he healed fast now, or he’d be one ugly sonuvabitch after that. He’d raged in frustration. He couldn’t be the one to rescue her…at least not by those means.