Page 28 of The Dragon King's Pregnant Mate

"Come now, Calliope of Essenborn." He steps into the room, closing the door with a soft click that sounds like a tomb being sealed. Each step is measured, deliberate, a hunter stalking wounded prey. "Haven't we moved past such childish deceptions? I've welcomed you into my home, shared my table, offered you freedom from my brother's tyranny. And this is how you repay my hospitality? By sneaking about like a common thief?"

I back away as he advances, but my heel hits his desk. There's nowhere left to retreat. The room suddenly feels smaller, the shadows in the corners writhing like living things. Or perhaps that's just the poison making the world shift and blur. My head spins with each movement, and my magic feels distant, muffled, like trying to hear through deep water.

"Your hospitality?" A bitter laugh escapes me. "Is that what you call drugging me? Keeping me weak? Having your men terrorize me? Some host you've been, Ulric."

"I protect you from yourself." He's closer now, too close. His hand comes up to brush my cheek in a mockery of tenderness. His skin burns like fever against mine. "From the magic that would destroy you if left unchecked. You have no idea of your true potential, of what we could accomplish together.”

"I know exactly what you want to accomplish." I jerk away from his touch, my back pressing harder against the desk. "Ulric, I know precisely what you want. What youare.You want to use my child as a weapon. Or kill them, if you can't control them. I have never doubted it. I never will.”

Something darkens in Ulric’s expression. His fingers catch my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. The gesture is so similar to how Arvoren used to touch me, yet utterly wrong. Where my husband's grip always held a careful restraint, Ulric's fingers dig in hard enough to bruise.

"Such an uncharitable interpretation." His voice drops lower, honey-sweet but laced with poison. "I want to ensure that child becomes everything it's meant to be, free from my brother's influence, free from the chains of tradition. Can't you see? Kaldoria destroyed you, Calliope, just as it was built to. Itruinedyou. Your dear husband stripped you of your very soul when he locked you in that castle, you know it as well as I do. He took something from you you’ll never get back. We could have built a better world, a world where you might have been able to be free. But perhaps he rendered you too weak to dare.”

"Better?" The word tastes like ash. "You murdered innocent people to find me. Tortured them. You’re the reason my friend is dead, the reason my child is in danger. You kill, you lie, you steal, you betray. It’s all you know. And I know you well enough to know my child will die at your hand eventually, one way or another, if I stay in this wretched place.”

"Only if necessary." Ulric’s thumb traces my lower lip, and it takes everything in me not to bite it off. His eyes track the movement, something hungry entering his expression. "But it doesn't have to come to that. Not if you’re smart, Calliope, as I know you can be. Stay with me willingly. Let me guide you, teach you. We could be extraordinary together. We could bring down the very walls of Kaldoria and build something glorious from its ashes."

He leans closer, his breath hot against my face.

When he moves to kiss me, something inside me snaps.

The magic comes without warning, surging up from that deep well inside me that even Ulric's poisons couldn't quite reach. Power explodes outward in a wave of killing frost, throwing him across the room. He hits the far wall with a satisfying crack, ice spreading across his fine clothes in tiny, intricate patterns. The temperature plummets until the very air seems to crystallize, frost coating every surface in patterns that glow with an eerie blue light.

"Don'ttouchme," I snarl, my voice raw with fury and fear. The words emerge in clouds of frozen breath. "Don't ever touch me again."

For a moment, Ulric just stares at me, genuine shock written across his features. Then his smile returns, sharper than ever. Blood trickles from a cut on his forehead, freezing before it can drip from his chin. "There she is. There's the queen I've been waiting for. Such power, such potential. You see? This is why I had to keep you contained. Why I had to wait until you were ready."

I don't wait to hear more. Staggering slightly—even that small burst of magic has left me dizzy—I flee into the corridor beyond. Behind me, I hear him laughing, the sound echoing off ancient stones like breaking glass.

"Run all you like, little bird! There's nowhere left to fly!"

The tower's maze-like passages twist and blur around me as I run. Left or right? Up or down? The geometry makes no sense, and the poison in my blood makes everything shift and dance. Shadows seem to move in my peripheral vision, and the worn carvings on the walls appear to writhe when viewed directly. Sometimes I swear I pass the same window three times, though I know I've been running straight ahead.

My child's presence pulses within me, responding to my fear. Their magic mingles with mine, lending me strength I didn't know I had left. But it's not enough. It will never be enough, not with whatever drug Ulric has been feeding me still coursing through my veins.

A horn blast echoes through the corridors, deep and resonant. Then another answers, and another. The sound seems to come from all directions at once, bouncing off stone until it becomes a physical pressure against my skull.

"Find her!" Ulric's voice carries clearly, amplified by the tower's strange acoustics. "Bring her back alive!"

Boots thunder on stone as guards mobilize. I hear them shouting to each other, coordinating their search. They know these twisted passages far better than I do. It's only a matter of time before they corner me.

I duck into a servant's passage, barely more than a crack in the wall. The space is tight enough that I have to turn sideways to squeeze through, my breath coming in sharp gasps that echo too loudly in the confined space. After what feels like an eternity, the passage opens into a wider corridor lit by guttering torches.

But I've barely taken three steps when voices echo from ahead—more guards, coming this way. I press myself into an alcove, holding my breath as armored footsteps thunder past. My heart hammers so hard I'm sure they must hear it, but they pass without stopping.

I can feel my lips moving as I whisper to my child, one hand pressed protectively over my stomach. Their presence feels stronger suddenly, more defined. As if they know we're in danger. I have no idea what I’m saying. My head spins with terror and fury.

I break from the corridor out into a broad, high-ceilinged chamber I don’t recognise. Across the space, three guards race in my direction, and I raise my hands in front of me, preparing to fight, preparing to freeze them alive—

Then, the world explodes.

The ornate ceiling above me shatters with a deafening roar, showering stone and ice and ancient timber. Dust curls high into the air all around. The ground shakes and I peel my gaze toward the sky with fierce desperation.

I see them.

Through the gap, silhouetted against the night sky, massive shapes descend. Dragons, their scales gleaming like black glass in the moonlight. They move with deadly grace, all coiled power and barely contained fury. Steam rises where snow touches their heated scales, and their eyes burn like blackened coals in the darkness.

And I know whose dragons those are.