The Dragon Who Loved Me (Dragon Kin #5)(84)

“Nice,” Izzy teased.

Annwyl grinned, winked. “Now,” her queen said, pul ing the short sword, “start running for your life.” While her guests clapped and cheered in excitement at the sight of female combatants, Vateria studied the women closely. After a moment, she looked at Junius, who sat several seats over and a row back as protocol dictated.

“Junius? Is that . . . ?”

“I believe it is, my lady.”

“Oh,” she gasped, clapping her hands together and returning her focus to the arena. “She wil be quite the entertainment in my dungeons.”

“For safety, my lady, you may want to send guards down to the dungeons in case she’s up to something else as wel .”

“Very good idea,” she said, motioning to one of the guards.

“And do you want me to stop the ogres, my lady?” Junius asked.

“No, no. Not yet. Let them have some fun. Then, when they’re nearly done”—Vateria grinned—“I’ll have some fun.” Rhona slipped down the stairs and around another corner. General Varro had given her exact directions. He, like Gaius, had grown up in this palace before they’d raised an army in an attempt to overthrow Thracius’s Empire.

She real y didn’t know if retrieving the Rebel King’s sister would actual y change anything, but they’d come this far....

They reached the end of the hal way Varro had directed them to. According to what she’d been told, she should turn left and go straight until she reached the last dungeon alcove that had several caged chambers.

Pressed against the wal , Rhona motioned to her cousin. Brannie crouched low, and leaned over, trying to see around the blind corner. After a moment, she leaned back. Held up al of her fingers. Ten? Ten guards for one royal’s sister? Then Brannie made a fist and again flashed ten fingers.

Twenty? she mouthed to her cousin.

Brannie nodded.

Wonderful. Wel , there was nothing to be done about it now.

Rhona shrugged. You ready? she silently asked.

Brannie nodded again. But in mid-nod, her gaze slowly moved to a spot behind Rhona.

“They’re more behind us, aren’t there?” Rhona asked, out loud this time.

Her cousin winced. “Uh-huh.”

Rhona let out a breath, her head dropping forward. This day was getting more and more difficult.

Vigholf hauled several human males out of his way so he could watch Annwyl and Izzy through the steel-barred windows.

“Ogres?” He looked at the man standing next to him. “They’re making them fight ogres?”

“Yeah, wel . . . ogres real y like the girls.” The man at least had the grace to grimace a little. “You know. They don’t usual y kil them right off.” Vigholf took a deep breath and focused on the powerful y built, ten-foot-tal monsters towering over his friends. “Wonderful.” He stepped back, examining the hal way he was in. He wondered if he could destroy al this if he shifted. But with just one glance, he knew that a building built by or under the direction of dragons would ensure that foreign dragons couldn’t destroy it al at their whim.

The crowd roared and Vigholf rushed back to the grate. Annwyl was on her back, the sword kicked from her hand, one of the ogres over her, a club raised. Izzy was running from three of them, two of them were wandering around and drooling, and two were trying to escape by digging through the wal .

And just when Vigholf didn’t think it could get any worse, he saw guards at the end of the tunnel run by and head off in the direction Rhona and Brannie had gone in.

His instincts, of course, were to find Rhona and protect her. Gods! It was to protect al of them, but especial y Rhona. Yet he couldn’t, could he?

As difficult as it was for him, they were soldiers on a mission. He couldn’t suddenly treat Rhona or the others as weak females who couldn’t take care of themselves.

So he returned his focus to the pit fight and the ogre slamming its club down again and again, trying to hit a rol ing-and-dodging Annwyl.

“Your girl,” the man next to him said, “she’s not doing too good.”

“She just has to . . . get her bearings.” He hoped.

Rhona impaled another throat and slashed another chest. “Brannie, move!”

As it was on the battlefield when fighting the Irons, the soldiers just kept coming, backing Rhona and Brannie into the hal way. Rhona pushed her cousin by the shoulder, then used the butt of her weapon to fend off another advancing soldier, and unleashed her flame.

The human soldiers screamed and tried to put the flames out, running off or dropping and rol ing on the ground. But the ones who weren’t human, she faced herself.

“Get her, Brannie. Go.”

Rhona let her weapon extend a few more feet and faced the soldiers. “Come on, lads,” she told the dragons. “Let’s get this over with.” Knowing her cousin was holding the line, Brannie charged down the hal way toward the last alcove, striking the guards who stood right outside the steel gates. She cut the arms off one and the head off the other. The one without the head had the keys, so she snatched it off his belt and quickly unlocked the door. She stepped inside but instead of finding multiple chambers, she found only one. One big chamber with only one captive.

The She-dragon was in her human form, naked, a gold col ar around her throat, long silver hair framing her face and covering her shoulders and br**sts. She’d been chained to the wal , and cuts, sores, and burns—old and new—littered her human flesh, both eyes swol en shut, nose broken.