A Kingdom of Ruin (Deliciously Dark Fairytales 3)

“Here we go.” Govam pushed me forward.

Four guards stepped toward me, two on each side. Sonassa was one of them, giving me a fond smile I didn’t much like. Another couple of demons walked past us, heading for Jedrek. He wasn’t getting as many guards as I was. I mentioned it to my dragon.

Can you blame them? My dragon sounded smug.

It would’ve been much better for me if I’d played dead, too. If they thought I was weak. Fewer guards would make it easier to escape.

“Look at that, Micah,” someone called. “That little dragon is getting as many guards as you do.”

“That new dragon got you nervous, boss?” Vemar asked with a grin, watching Govam.

Dragons react to strength, my dragon thought. You are showing yours. Getting their support and respect is worth being stuck with a few more guards.

As I passed the other cells, I saw the truth in what she was saying. The people I passed nodded supportively or gave me a thumbs-up.

“Stay strong,” Tamara said as I passed, her hand resting on a crossbar, fisted. “We’re with you.”

“You are not alone,” Forearms said, the same baritone voice that had asked for the whip when I first got here. His soft brown eyes tracked me solemnly. “Distance your mind from what is to come and think of returning to us. We are dragons. We will always be here for you.”

“Not always, I shouldn’t think,” Sonassa said with a small chuckle. “You will die eventually, Mr. Dragon. I might even mourn your passing…a little. You’re my favorite.”

Fear bit down deep, but I kept my head high as I walked out, everyone up at the bars now, watching as we walked past. They murmured their encouragement, but worry coated their expressions. Whatever was about to happen was obviously going to be bad.

SIX

FINLEY

The guards walked us up to and then through the main floor, ignoring the officers loitering around a little seating area with couches and chairs. One of them was pouring some sort of pink liquid into a huge copper canister, steam issuing from a little pipe near the back. The other officers, who all looked the same except for the one in white, gave us funny little smiles as we passed.

“Where are you taking us?” Jedrek bleated, fear making his voice quaver.

Don’t speak, my dragon thought, watchful. We’ll probably sound like him.

She has a very good point, folks. I’m shitting my pants right about now.

Again, her failure to comment on my invisible audience habit testified to how not okay she was with what was happening. Or, more aptly, what might be about to happen.

We were steered through a doorway opposite the one we’d used to enter the dungeon. It took us into a vaulted hall. There weren’t any skull doors, scary bridges, or nondescript tunnels I’d have to struggle to remember. This path was cut and dried and easy to navigate. They weren’t worried about prisoners getting out this way.

We reached a set of stairs in no time and wound up three flights, which somehow dumped us onto the second floor. That…was odd. I couldn’t tell if it was intentional mind-fuckery or if their shoddy building practices were to blame.

“Where are we going?” Jedrek asked again.

No answer. The suspense of all this was starting to fray his nerves. Re-fray his nerves, maybe.

We finally stepped into a large room with two rows of gleaming copper tubs along each side. Two near the front were filled halfway with steaming water. Two human-looking demons wearing long black robes waited near each of them, holding little caddies for bathing.

“Strip them,” Govam barked, not letting go of me.

The guards pushed in a little closer as the human-looking demons set down their caddies and stepped up. Now I was completely surrounded, still held by Govam.

The bath workers put out their hands, and claws elongated from their fingers. They planned to rip my clothes off and toss them away.

No, not my clothes. Nyfain’s.

I belatedly remembered the note tucked into my back pocket. The piece of paper holding his elegant scrawl, his words of love. His assurances that I was both a dragon and his true mate.

Power roared through me. Emotion colored my thoughts, drowning out any sort of logic.

I would not lose that note. I would not lose these clothes or this sword. I wouldn’t lose any of it. They’d all die before I did.

My dragon pumped more power into me. Power. Rage. Action!

“Freeze!” I could hear the panic in Govam’s voice. “Everyone freeze! Dragon—Finley—give me a chance to figure this out.”

“No, no, no, no, no!” Jedrek bucked and then kicked, trying to get out of his captors’ hands while his bathing attendants waited in front of him, their claws out and ready. “No! I don’t want this! No!”

He threw his body one way, then another, before arching back into Denski, trying to wiggle free.