A Queen of Ruin (Deliciously Dark Fairytales 4)

My animal moved within me as power curled from the large dragon, scraping against our spirit in barely contained menace. Liking the feel and wanting more of it, I squared my shoulders and stood. The dragon was issuing his challenge without consciously realizing it. I was pretty sure he couldn’t help himself. It was natural for one of his kind to force submission.

I lifted my chin just a little and hardened my gaze, prodding him to use more power.

His eyes sparked, the alpha in him internalizing my posture and bearing as a returned challenge. His rage intensified. His muscles flexed one by one. His dragon moved behind those golden eyes, a terrifying sight.

The prince would act on my challenge soon. The only reason he hadn’t yet was because of my relationship to Finley. Brutality to me would hurt her. He didn’t want that for her. Neither did I.

But my animal craved what we were getting from the alpha dragon right now, and he reveled in the power it manifested within us.

Nyfain’s rage billowed into the room, drawing the queen’s notice and visibly melting my sister with desire—an uncomfortable sight.

While they were distracted, I breathed it in, sucked it down. The rage was intoxicating. Equally as intoxicating as joy, pleasure…as an enemy’s fear. Equally as useful as pain. As suffering.

I had a dirty secret, one I hadn’t told a soul. One I hoped Nyfain, very good at reading people, hadn’t guessed.

Ever since my animal was drawn out, I’d had the ability to internalize strong emotions. I could suck them in, like air, and feed them to my animal. There they brewed, churning, until they flowered out in the heat of battle and expanded, filling me with strength and power. Speed and agility.

I’d told my animal we had qualities similar to the demons in the demon king’s castle.

They have qualities similar to us, not the other way around, my animal had replied. Demons specialize in one type of emotion, or none at all. Sex demons seek pleasure. The creatures in the dungeon sought misery. But what demons seek joy? Love? What demons feed off rage or the effulgence of spirit?

Maybe we just don’t know about them.

Fine. Then I’ll ask you this—what demons seek to care for and guard those they love? We use emotion as a source of power, and we apply that power to improve the lives of those we love. That is not a demonic characteristic. We are not reprehensible, Hannon. We are certainly not a demon.

I’d had my misgivings. Still did. Even when he added, Besides, have you seen any demons with wings?

He’d stretched within me then, trapped in the confines of my body but desperate to take to the sky.

I hadn’t seen any demons with wings, no, and therefore desperately hoped he had them. I worried about the alternative.

The dragon’s rage continued to pump into the small cabin, feeding my animal. I held his gaze, knowing it was dangerous, that I’d send that big dragon over the edge and feel his wrath. He was reaching the edge of his tolerance, and my goading him on only fanned the flames.

But his rage was so sweet, so powerful. It intoxicated my animal. It felt as though it expanded through my body. It was hard to resist.

In a moment, though, I realized with horror that I’d waited too long.

Suddenly he sprang into action.

EIGHTEEN

Finley

My breath caught in my throat as Nyfain surged toward my brother. I barely managed to get myself in front of him. He stopped short, reaching out to grip my arm so he didn’t knock me over, his hard eyes directed over my shoulder.

“Hey, hey, whoa.” I ran my hands lightly up his chest and then hooked them delicately around his neck.

The sweetness of the gesture counteracted the rage billowing from my mate. His muscles loosened just a bit, and he swung his gaze down to me almost as if he couldn’t help himself. His anger dimmed somewhat as he locked eyes with me, anchoring himself.

“What’s going on?” I asked, not daring to look away from him and release his focus. I had no idea what Hannon had done to set Nyfain off, but I didn’t want to give Nyfain a chance to “fix” it. “You okay?”

Nyfain took me in and softened further, his thumb stroking my arm. I was still tense, though, and I could tell he was preventing himself from looking up again, not wanting to make eye contact with my brother.

“Your brother is walking a very dangerous line, princess. I’ll give you a chance to talk him down. Next time I’ll handle it myself. Meet me outside.”

He abruptly turned and walked out the door.

I took a deep breath and sent a questioning look at Hannon, who had his face tilted downward.

“Sorry, Finley,” he said immediately, looking up through his lashes to see if Nyfain had gone. He lifted his face to look at me bashfully. “I apologize. My animal is getting to me. He likes to set off the dragon’s rage.”