Page 40 of Dreams and Dragon Wings (Clean Fairytales for Adults #2)
Benevolence
“ W here is she?” I growl, pacing endlessly around the garden. “She should have been here by now.”
Should she not? I have no sense of time here. The days are endless. The night is nonexistent. The sky remains the same no matter the hour—blanketed by sickly green clouds with flashes of lightning crackling within. The garden remains the same—wilted and rotting.
The only time there has been a single moment of difference in my days trapped within this prison was when she arrived. And now she is gone. My inner dragon snarls, desperate to protect his mate.
Something must have happened. She should have returned.
She would have returned.
Brisa and Glorana watch me from where they laze beneath the apple tree, now too tired to flit about.
Brisa yawns. “It could have been a fluke.”
Glorana suggests, “Perhaps she cannot repeat the results from her earlier experiment?”
Brisa shoots her sister a sidelong glance. “Not everyone conducts experiments, Glorana.”
Glorana sniffs. “Well, they should.”
I sigh and swivel on my heel, about to pace the perimeter again.
I draw myself up short when I nearly walk headlong into my uncle.
He offers me a tight smile. “Restless, Nephew? I imagine you must be bored out of your mind here, what with nothing to do.” He slants my aunties an unimpressed look. “And no one to talk to.”
Brisa makes some sort of disgruntled sound but otherwise makes no attempt to move. I do not blame her. There is no point in letting him bait us further.
“What are you doing here?” I ask, getting right to the point, wanting to hurry him along. I don’t dare let him linger.
What if he’s here when Aurelia arrives?
“I merely came to provide you with a bit of entertainment,” he coos. With a wave of his hand, he opens what seems to be a window within the thorns bordering my cage. A window looking out upon the waking world.
At Aurelia.
My chest tightens at the sight of her trudging down a stone corridor with a goblin escort.
She looks every inch a queen, if a queen under duress.
Dark circles beneath her eyes. A yawn covered by her hand.
The deep blue gown she wears merely highlights how pale she has become since I last saw her. She looks so fragile. Weak.
Steeling my heart, I remind myself that she is stronger than any of us know.
“Where are you taking her?” I ask through gritted teeth.
Malice smiles. “Oh, you misunderstand. She is coming to me. To watch our troops march for the Aerie.”
I should react to his words. That is why he is here—to taunt me. To remind me that I have failed my people as well as my queen.
But my attention is wholly fixed on the heavy chains Na’therya drags behind her.
I bare my teeth in a snarl. “You have her bound like a human criminal.”
“I have her bound like a misbehaving drakira ,” he counters, stopping my heart.
I stare at him and force my breathing to remain steady, my pulse calm. I force myself to remember the pledge I made to myself and to the Great Weaver—to be the man and the king Aurelia needs me to be.
“A dragon would never disrespect his drakira in this way,” I carefully voice, enunciating each word. “And Aurelia would never agree to be your drakira in the first place.”
He laughs, his voice grating against my nerves. “Can you believe that she thought she was your drakira ?” He guts me with that question in a single, efficient blow. “I had to set her straight, of course.”
I sigh, knowing exactly where that miscommunication originated. Forgive me, Na’therya . I should have explained to her that I only called her my drakira to Friedemar’s face for the purpose of defending her honor.
But it was wrong of me to stake a claim that was not mine to stake. Not without her permission. A dragon may long for a woman to be his drakira , but it is ultimately her choice.
The drakira chooses the dragon, not the other way around.
Malice’s smile fades. “I am not sure what other lies you have been filling her mind with, Benevolence, but rest assured that she will be well taken care of.” His eyes glint with his namesake. “So long as she behaves.”
“So long as she gives you her gift, you mean.”
He huffs out a breath but does not answer.
I do not need him to answer to know I am right.
He waves me off, already fading from view. “Enjoy the show, Nephew.”
My attention returns to Aurelia, to the vision of her struggling down the corridor, dragging the chains that weigh her down with slow, heavy steps.
My heart seizes all over again. “And the chains?” I ask. “Will you not remove the chains from her so that she can walk without pain?”
“Of course,” Malice whispers as he winks out of existence. His voice lingers on, though, like a phantom determined to haunt me until my final breath.
“Just as soon as she marries me.”