A Kingdom of Ruin (Deliciously Dark Fairytales Book 3)(52)

But then they settled into the boat, one at the back and the other two in the middle and front, and I realized there was no motor. The rig had sails, after a fashion, but they didn’t do much out here in the still marsh. Instead, the demon put his hands on a sort of table at the back, and the boat shuddered to life. The thing was run on demon magic.

“Maybe we should’ve made boats or brought oars and stormed the demon castle that way,” Leala murmured near my ear, lying on her side and facing my head.

But it took us five days to reach the castle, with a lengthy stop at an island where more creatures were stored and a camp had been set up. I realized storming the place wouldn’t have worked. Not without an enormous army we simply did not have. A few bedraggled, out-of-practice shifters and a bunch of new, inexperienced dragons wouldn’t do much against a demon horde in their fortified home. The only way to play this was from the inside. We had to get to Finley, and then we all had to get back out again.

Which very well might prove impossible.





FIFTEEN





FINLEY





A strange sort of commotion roused me from my slumber. I lay on my stomach with my face against the stone, straw poking me in the temple. My eyes faced the wall with the stairs so that I wouldn’t have to move when an officer came down to grab someone. It was our duty to give the poor sod who was taken some encouragement, although it felt pointless. This was our life. Whippings. Parties. And, for me, the fun times I was brought up to Dolion so someone new could try to eradicate the “horrible stink” on my skin. We’d all kinda gotten used to it.

Or maybe I’d just gotten used to it. The others had surely gotten accustomed to it long before I came into the picture.

The only good news was that I’d stopped worrying whether the demons could affect the bond. They couldn’t. And while I had figured out how to stop boosting Nyfain’s scent…I didn’t. Fuck ’em.

The only thing I did worry about was time. The officers liked me for my power, so there wasn’t much of a danger they’d kill me off, but without going to the parties, and especially the after-parties, I couldn’t get in contact with the wolves or faeries. The other dragons were trying to gather and relay what information they could, but dragons were so often separated from the others. It was slow going, and I was running out of time.

I knew that because something had changed with Nyfain. I could feel his emotions winding up, as though he were readying to do something big. Something probably foolish.

Time was ticking.

“You don’t have to be so rough. I was happy playing dead!”

The voice reverberated down the steps and across the open space, pinging around my mind and quickening my heart.

“What’s up with this area? The top room was so nice and then, what, your builders decided they didn’t care about doing a good job anymore? Fuck—”

I lifted my head as two feet came into view, covered in mud and grime. The person stumbled but caught themself. Two bare knees came into view next, and then the body that belonged to them, covered in a sort of maid outfit caked with mud.

My heart stopped, and I couldn’t process the face, with his hair mussed and dark brown growth all over his face. His thin mustache was longer now, not having been trimmed and taken care of.

Hadriel.

He’d come with me after all…in a maid outfit, as promised.

Tears came to my eyes, and laughing sobs racked my tired body. Then just sobs. No matter how good it felt to see him, I didn’t want this for him. He couldn’t handle the sort of life that this part of the dungeon endured. It would be a death sentence for him.

“Go back,” I struggled to say, but whom was I talking to? It was too late. He was here now.

But…why? How?

He looked behind him, both hands free. “I am going, you red-robed fuckbumper. Can’t you see I’m going? Eat a fucking carrot once in a while, and you’d see that.” He straightened up and smoothed his maid dress down his front. Clumps of mud dropped to the ground. “First that fucking bridge of absolute terror—what the fuck was up with that thing?” he muttered, continuing down the stairs. “And why do all you fuckers look the same? What is going on here? And if you wanted to look the same, why choose ugly as the common theme?”

The first officer behind him shoved again, and he jumped two steps down to the bottom.

“Ha! Nice try, jackass. I didn’t land on my head this time.”

“Shh.” Leala came down after him, her hair covered in mud and sticking out every which way, her trim frame dressed all in black. She glanced behind her with a hesitant smile, her eyes tight. Her officer followed with his whip in hand, clearly not intending to use it. They’d already realized these two weren’t going to harm them.

And then my world wobbled.

“No.” Tears streamed down my cheeks. “Please, no!”

Hannon came last, his face hard and determined. He had two sheaths hanging from a belt, both empty. The second he could, he looked down the row of cells, finding me almost immediately.

My heart wrenched in my chest. Power pulsed out all around me.

“Damn it, Hannon.” I struggled to get up, accidentally shoving an everlass plant. They grew in my cell now, and I’d be lying if I said they weren’t helping me cling hard to my duty.