Page 40 of The Dragon Warlord

“Very well.”

The pain hits again, but this time I maintain the vision of strangling him until I finally pass out.

* * *

My eyes open to dingy darkness, despite the scant number of glowing orbs scattered into the air to light the place. The air is stale. My hammering head says it might have hit the floor when I passed out. There’s a coppery taste in my mouth. Blood. I might have bitten my lip when I passed out too. The memory seeps back to me and my anger flares at the thought of the dragon lord. When I move, I discover that I’m shackled. Tightly. Oh fuck. That’s bad. There are manacles around my wrists and ankles, with short lengths of chains that only allow a little movement. Long enough for me to stand, but not move too far from the wall.

But then my eyes land on something worse. River is bound to a chair, secured by bands of metal around his arms, legs, and even his neck. He can’t move at all. The thought of such confinement to my own person sets me off, but watching it happen to my omega triggers something feral in me. I look around for the dragon lord. Where is he?Where?

The only one here with us is Lux. “Welcome back, Warlord,” he says in a smooth voice.

“How dare he? That’s not even legal,” I say, thrusting my hand toward River. He wouldn’t even allow River his title back because of the rules and now he’s done this to him without my permission?

“I assure you; it was perfectly legal. When you passed out, our dear River went feral.”

“I-I-I’m sorry, W-Warlord,” River whispers, ashamed of himself.

“River. You were told not to speak. Do it again and I’ll silence you,” Lux says.

Struggling in my bonds does nothing, but I do it anyway. “Don’t you dare speak to my omega like that. I’ll string you up by your balls when I’m out of this.”

He laughs. “Sure, you will.”

“This is all bullshite anyway. The dragon lord doesn’t have to do anything. He saw an opportunity to manipulate me—surprise, surprise—and he took it. Okay, he wins. Bring him in here. I’ll concede to the punishment if my omega is released. Immediately.”

Lux smiles. He’s enjoying this too. He should not get to have such a strong jaw and impeccable fashion sense. His lips are plush and red as if they’ve been stained by Elderberry mead.

“I regret to inform you, Warlord, but His Lordship is too busy to deal with brats. He’ll return when you’ve shown you’re ready to behave.”

“That’s hypocritical, wouldn’t you say?”

“Nevertheless…” He doesn’t follow that with anything and returns to writing things in a book I’m just registering. He’s seated at a small table on the other side of the jade-stone room. River is doing his best to breathe slowly and I’m learning that claustrophobia is a dragon-wide phenomenon.

I struggle in my shackles doing my damnedest to break free, but they’re either dragon and Elf proof or enforced with magic, and nothing happens except me wriggling like a chained worm. I try several bursts of Elven magic, but it’s difficult down here with nothing to draw from. I’ve only ever learned light magic, something I’m going to correct if I ever get out of here.

“The dragon lord saw a rare moment for a teaching moment and told me to pass on to you that those shackles aren’t immune to dragon magic—just dragon strength and they have a special line of runes added so that you can’t use Elven powers to break free of them. He encourages you to figure it out. If you can, you’re welcome to break free of those and rescue your omega. Your omega’s bonds are immune to dragon magic, however, and you’ll need the Elven to set him free. A fun magical obstacle course for you.”

He says “your omega” as if I’m the one who brought River into this place and introduced them all to him and not the other way around.

“See how lucky you are, Warlord? Your alpha is always looking for opportunities to make you the best that you can be.”

“Oh, yes. I’m so lucky. I’ll thank the Gods in my prayers.” I hope he knows what sarcasm is.

Okay, so, dragon magic. Different than Elven magic. How much different could it be? Magic is magic, isn’t it? All right, he’s got my attention. “Is using wizard magic different than dragon magic?” I feel like the answer to that will give me a clue because I doubt he’ll give me any clues as to how I would go about using dragon magic.

That eerie golden sheen moves over his irises again. “Is a house cat different from a mircat?”

“Yes.”

“But they are both cats.”

I think about Hymta the family mircat and also Alrik’s familiar. “They have different properties.” A house cat is small and doesn’t hold the same capacity for danger as its larger counterpart. A mircat is a protective nuisance with threads of dark magic sewn into its cells. Both are fierce in their own right and also arrogant.

“Very good, Warlord. There may be hope for you yet.”

None of that leads me to how I might go about commanding dragon magic. Looking at a terrified River hinders my ability to think clearly. Step one, stop looking at River. It doesn’t help that I can feel his terror even when I’m not looking at him. I take my own calming breath. Solution, not the problem. Solution, not the problem.

I can’t though. I can’t get River out of my head and instead of doing anything productive, I yank fruitlessly at the chains, unleashing a ferocious roar.