“You are from that forgotten kingdom, are you not?”
“You know of it?”
“Yes. Well…no. I know some who had claimed to be from there. They died of a sickness. A sort of plague. They said it was from a curse.”
The breath went out of me. “Yes. It was. Are there any left?”
“No. The dragons don’t have that sickness.”
“Correct. Kinda. The people of the castle and court weren’t afflicted with the sickness, and all the dragons were in the court.” I didn’t bother explaining the particulars of the curse. It likely wouldn’t mean anything to her anyway.
She turned and walked a little farther before bending to her sandal again. When she straightened, she looked up into my face.
“Calia has noticed you. She has heard that you have power in plenty. You are our hope. We will be in touch.”
“Who is…”
But the woman moved along, continuing her lap of the room before she disappeared back into the crowd.
“Calia is the faerie in the cage over there.” Micah glanced right and then away again.
The faerie with the indigo eyes was staring at me from across the ballroom, her gaze acute even from so far away.
“She had powerful magic once, I’ve heard,” Micah went on. “The suppression has locked it inside of her. She tried to escape after us but didn’t make it nearly as far. It was a fool’s errand.”
“Anyone else? Tried to escape, I mean?”
“One more attempt, that I know of. A few wolves. That was after they strengthened the bridge over the lava pit, I hear. They never came back.” Micah adjusted his stance. “I’ve heard that Calia thinks she can dissolve the suppression and then the magical locks, if she has enough power fed to her.”
“Fed to her?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know what that means either. I heard through Vemar, and he wasn’t in his right mind when he got a moment to speak with her. Apparently an alpha shifter should have enough power to spare, but we’ve all been suppressed. Cut off from the majority of our strength.”
“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.