Page 45 of Deadly Maiden (Dragons and Darkthings #1)

Rorsyd

Despair fells me as they haul Wyntre away.

For all of ten ticks of a clock hand.

Get yourself in order. She needs you. I cannot afford to be a weak asshole.

At the command of a sergeant, Aos Sin soldiers jump into the cage with me and cautiously wrap my neck and hands in chains before breaking that last weld on the spear.

The pain is tremendous and has me gasping and falling to my knees, whereupon they haul out the spear. No warning, just the iron is torn free, leaving a hole.

“Fuck!” Head down, I am shaking, watching the spear tumble into the water below and splash. Somebody has dropped it. That is good.

I am ready to throw up all over their boots, though most of my vomit would also go into the sea, some of it would dirty them.

My blood drips freely, leaking over the cage bars in a red, red rain.

They’ve made a mistake though. These chains they use to pull me from the cage are not made of iron. This is both good and bad. Bad, as they’re far stronger than pure iron, good in that my magik is building like a tidal wave.

Perhaps the soulmate bond is helping? Perhaps.

All I care is that I heal, fast.

We reach the tower stairs, and they drag me downward like a dog on a leash.

All I know is give me five, ten more minutes and I will rip these men in two and scatter their parts to the winds, preferably by throwing them out the tower windows.

We stagger downstairs, me groaning and clinging to my chain leash as if I’m ready to collapse, while really, I am plotting my revenge

When I reach the bottom, I am ten times stronger and the wound in my stomach is sealing over, the skin moving across.

My muscles brace against the chain tied about my wrists and the veins pop as I strain.

The magik within me builds and builds, nearing the crescendo I need it to reach before I can shift and destroy them all.

“Wait! You forgot this.”

The soldiers halt at the barked order. I swing to see who this is commanding them.

I bare my teeth as Kroll, the fae scarred by my dragonflame, moves into view.

He thrusts an iron spear through my guts.

Gasping, neck taut, I hiss as the shock barrels in. He twists the shaft and the spear burrows deeper. Teetering on my heels, I barely keep myself upright.

“This,” he purrs. “None of you thought to wonder about a dragonshifter being loosed without iron in him? Or on his neck?”

They all confess ignorance. I grin at Kroll, at where he grips the spear. “Do you like the pretty scars I gave you?”

His chuckle is punctuated by another twist of the spear. “Not really. Like the spear in your guts?”

I cough but keep smiling, aware my blood is spattering onto the walkway. I hope I distracted him because this new spear is smaller than the other, less damaging, easier to bend. If I get the chance, I will remove it and unleash my powers. I felt them simmering in that precious second before he stuck me again.

I might be stronger than ever.

Once I get this off me and out of me, I will get Wyntre free. I will.

“Bring him. You! Find some iron chain for his neck and hands, to replace that steel one.”

Fuck. He is becoming a problem, this Kroll.