Page 47 of The Forbidden Dragon King (Shadow Kings #1)

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Quintus’ Bedroom, Shadow Court

D aire

The mission is to seduce and kill , Maximinus told me. Quintus dies tonight.

Would Freya hate me, if she knew that I was going to be stained in blood for her? To stop the agonizing pain that’s seared through my veins all night, while I’ve sung, danced, and played the courtesan for my enemies? For these bastards who burned my kingdom to ash?

Would she understand that I’ve never stopped fighting?

A warrior doesn’t need to wear armor to be engaged in a battle.

Quintus’ hand crawls to my waist, playing at the thin silk fabric teasingly, as he guides me down the darkened corridor toward his rooms.

“How kind of Maximinus to lend you to me. I’m eager to see how well you’re trained, sweetheart.” Quintus leans down, taking a shuddering breath, while sniffing my hair. His hand wanders lower to cup my arse. “You’re not as deliciously ripe smelling as an Omega but you do seem as eager as one.”

“Fae are horny bastards, didn’t you hear?”

Quintus lets out a surprised laugh. “There’s that sharp tongue of yours. Maybe I can tame it tonight. I’m good at breaking brats.”

I remember the young servant who limps from Quintus’ rooms most days. The way that I’ve seen him weeping when he thinks no one can see.

My gaze becomes icy. “I dare you to try.”

“Dare accepted.” Quintus’ voice is flinty.

He yanks me harder against him, shoving open the door to his grand suite of rooms, which are lit only by moonlight through the arched windows.

“I’m not like the soft boy, Aurelius. Ever since I saw you in that cage, degraded and dragged through the capital’s streets, I’ve been dreaming of the night that I could have the Raven King on his knees for me. ”

I bet you have, sick arsehole.

Now in the privacy of his own rooms, Quintus gives up any pretense of being gentle and drags me brutally towards his bedroom at the back.

I don’t resist.

He thinks that I’m his prey .

Actually, he’s dragging the hunter back to his nest.

Bloody idiot.

This Shadow Court has sharpened me into as much of a blade as Aurelius is.

I barely feel the way that Quintus shoves me into his bedroom, which is lit by guttering torches that cast dancing shadows over the gold leaf frescoed walls.

My brow furrows.

Shadows consuming Aurelius, devouring him until he’s nothing but shadows, amber eyes, and flaming sword… Burn. Burn. Burn… The vampire disintegrating to ash.

Aurelius had been a bloody marvel in the Silver Banquet Hall. He was shadowed death that could topple kingdoms. I’m tangled up inside because now he feels like both my greatest enemy and my fated pack.

By the Shadow Devils, it’d been thrilling to see the shifter’s darkness winding around him, even if his uncle, the Horror of Bael and poisoner of my nightmares, deliberately made his nephew drunk to fuel the spectacle.

Maximinus had used some poor Blood who looked like Lanlin as a prop.

As a blood sacrifice.

I don’t only admire Aurelius, as when we fought each other streaked in blood on the battlefield, I see him.

I see Hadrian under the skin.

“Don’t play coy now, you fucking flirt.” Quintus shakes me. “You were practically rubbing yourself off on my knee. I know what bitches like you need.”

He tugs on a gossamer thin iron chain, which hangs from my wing .

I gasp in pain.

“Does that hurt, sweetheart?” Quintus asks with mock concern, stroking my feathers.

I grit my teeth at the invasive touch. “Aye.”

When he tugs harder on the chain, I bite down on a scream.

“Good.” Quintus’ eyes gleam. “Kneel.”

So predictable.

What is it with these dragons and getting off on seeing me on my knees?

If any of them think that it diminishes me to kneel for my people or those who I love, then they’re wrong.

I stop myself from rolling my eyes, dropping elegantly to my knees.

For once, I’m glad that my vision is blurred and I can’t see what I know must be a leer on Quintus’ face, as I glance up at him seductively through my eyelashes.

“Good pet.” Quintus brushes his fingers along my sharp cheekbone. “Your skin is so soft, but your eyes…so hard. You’re playing the part, but underneath, you hate me.”

“What gave me away?”

I brace for the hit, but instead, Quintus only grins. “It is so much better when they hate you. The defiance. The hate in their eyes that sparks, until it slowly fades into despair, and finally, defeat . I’m going to delight in seeing your hate transformed to defeat tonight, sweetheart.”

He says it as tenderly as a caress.

My mouth tastes like ash. “That sounds like hard work. I can be defeated more easily lying on my back. ”

I wink, slinking to my feet.

I know how well my white outfit clings to every plane of my body, gliding like water down my strong shoulders and tight arse. Quintus will be watching every step that I make toward the elaborate bronze bed with a headrest, which is inlaid with mother of pearl.

I lie back on the soft mattress with its ivory silk bedding, stretching my arms above myself and offering my body in a way that the instructors from the Courtesan Guild have taught me.

I know how appealing I look. I can lure most people with a glance.

Quintus’ breath catches. Then he clatters over the marble flooring, climbing onto the bed and straddling me.

He’s breathing fast.

I struggle to lie still and not react.

These dragons would fuck me in every way. I’ll fuck them right back.

Quintus thinks that he’s lying in bed with a pet and not an assassin.

It’ll be the last mistake that he makes.

He reaches out, nervous for the first time, as if only just realizing that he truly has fae royalty in his bed, tracing the scars on my shoulder.

I stiffen.

“Do these hurt too?” Quintus asks, fascinated.

He pushes on one harder, as if to test it out.

Possibly, to hurt me.

Shadows flutter around my wings in distress .

“Not as much as the wounds I’ve slashed through the dragons,” I reply, sweetly.

“Savage.” Quintus roughly turns my head to the side.

Then he runs his fingers down my neck. He rests his hand threateningly around my throat.

My heartbeat speeds up.

On the sacred ash, don’t let him be into breath play.

Did Maximinus make clear like with my other marks that I wasn’t to be damaged?

Quintus doesn’t appear to care.

He leans closer.

I can’t see his face, only smell the sickening wine laced on his breath. “Scared, pet?”

He tightens his hold.

I battle not to struggle, as my heart pounds.

I look up at Quintus with a frosty expression, while he chokes me. His fingers dig in deeper, crueler.

My lungs burn.

I won’t give him the reaction he wants.

“You can’t win.” He leans close enough that I can see how avidly he’s watching my face, chasing the smallest flickers of anguish with a predator’s hunger.

His pupils are dilated. “Your body will react naturally in its desperate struggle to survive. You’d better be a good little pet, if you want me to let you breathe. ”

I sneer.

Does he think that this is new to me? I’ve needed to play that role to Maximinus since I was dragged to Bael.

Clichéd second-rate bully.

Yet these violent hands of his dared to touch my Omega. I’m going to make this bloody dragon sorry that he hurt my soulmate.

“There’s that delicious hatred.” Quintus breathes in my pheromones, sighing in delight. “You smell better now.”

Lightheaded, I clench my hands compulsively.

Against my will, my legs begin to kick. My body thrashes in an involuntary attempt to escape and draw oxygen into my burning lungs.

“That’s it!” Quintus humps against me. His cheeks are flushed. “ Struggle. It makes everything much more exciting. I want to feel that I have fully conquered you, sweetheart.”

Lights flash in front of my eyes.

I can’t pass out.

I can’t.

Should I fight back? Ruin my mission?

Grey blurs my vision.

Panic rushes through me.

Fuck him. Fuck him. Fuck…

Quintus finally relents, lifting his hands just enough for me to take in a desperate, gasping breath. I fill my lungs, shaking from the sudden, euphoric rush of endorphins.

Then my eyes glitter with rage.

This is it.

I lower my hand to my hair quicker than any dragon would be able to see, pulling out one of the silver raven feather pins.

The one that I have specially sharpened to a deadly point .

Then I burst the tattered remnants of my shadows out from my wings, all that remain after the suppression of my magic, and blast Quintus off me and slamming onto his back.

His breath is knocked out of him.

Agony rips through me at the use of my magic, but I battle through it. I fly up, twisting our positions, until I am the one straddling the terrified dragon on the silk feather mattress.

Quintus looks up at me with wide eyes like he has never been the one to be in this position in bed.

I bet that he hasn’t.

By the Shadow Gods, this isn’t only for the mission, this is for Freya and every other person who has suffered the unwilling touch of this powerful Alpha.

Tonight, I will be the Unseelie bearer of their revenge.

I slam my hand over Quintus’ mouth before he can scream. Then I reach behind me and stab the pin through his breeches into his hardened knot.

His muffled scream is a song of pain.

It’s beautiful.

I light up with vicious joy.

I bare my gleaming canines. “How broken do I look now?”

I rip out the pin, and Quintus screams again.

Blood blooms out to stain his breeches, as if with delicate red petals.

Quintus is punching at me clumsily, but I don’t feel the blows. Adrenaline is racing through me. He’s trying to buck me off but he has no idea how strong I am. I easily hold him still between my thighs.

I catch Quintus’ left hand, as he flails at me, crushing it beside his head.

Then I stab the pin through his palm.

He wails.

“You touched my soulmate with this hand.” My expression is like a winter storm.

Quintus’ face is ugly with tears. “Maybe I’ve been in the wilderness with a reputation as a bandit for too long.

Everybody has forgotten to fear the Unseelie.

Don’t any of you remember that the shadows came from us?

Don’t worry, I’ll remind you. You’re never going to touch anyone with this hand again. ”

Dispassionately, I ignore Quintus’ desperate pleading. I press my palm more firmly over his mouth.

My warped bronze and emerald ring is bright against the pale horror of his face.

I clench my jaw.

What would Da think about me, if he saw me now? An assassin?

Except, he’s not here because of the dragons. None of my family are.

I smile, sharply. Then I snap through each of Quintus’ fingers like they’re frozen twigs.

Crack, crack, crack.

I stare at them, bent into misshapen angles.

I remember my cunning, smart, perfect wolf Omega

…And what about your other pretty pet? It’s been too long since I had a nondragon sucking my cock …

No one will ever be sucking Quintus’ cock again.

I rip the pin out of Quintus’ hand. Blood from the end of the pin drips down onto the silk bedding like gentle crimson rain.

“Hmm, I didn’t even need to tell you to struggle.” I laugh, shoving up Quintus’ tunic to reveal his chest. “And is that hate blazing in your eyes?”

Quintus is a fucking mess.

His bald head is beaded with sweat, and his hooked nose is running as much as his eyes are streaming with tears.

I rest the sharp pin on his chest, before I start to carve out a complex pattern on his flawless flesh.

He doesn’t bear any scars, unlike me.

Well, he was fascinated by mine.

How can I kill him without making sure that he has some of his own first?

“In case you’re wondering, sweetheart ,” I concentrate on the runes that I’m carving across his skin, ancient and powerful, “this is rune magic. I’m sending you as a blood sacrifice to the Shadow Devils.”

Quintus sobs, kicking his feet in panic.

I hush him. “You’re not so fucking deluded that you thought the Shadow Gods would want you to fly to them, aye?

I’ve watched you. I know what you do to your servants.

They talk. And here’s the thing, I belong to Aurelius’ household, but despite being his enemy, he’s never once treated me in the way that you harass, assault, and beat your servants.

And aye, you were right. I’m a brat. I would deserve it.

So, the Shadow Devils hate shifters like you who abuse their power. They’ll break you .”

I’m pretty sure that he’s begging now, please, please, please .

Finally, he understands.

I ignore him.

How many times did his servants beg him for mercy?

I finish the last rune with a flourish, marking Quintus’ soul for the Shadow Devils.

“Done.” My eyes are like chips of ice. And there it is — the look that Quintus wanted to see in my eyes.

Despair followed by sinking defeat. I shiver with dark glee.

I extend my wings, covering us both in their shadow.

“The hottest places in hell are reserved by the Shadow Devils for Alphas who hurt Omegas. I hope that you burn there for eternity.”

I take my hand away from Quintus’ mouth.

“Don’t…” He gasps.

I slice the pin deeply across his throat, slitting it from ear to ear.

Quintus gurgles, as his blood gushes out.

I hold him down as he thrashes. His blood stains my white outfit red.

I bare my teeth savagely, wrenching out the pin.

I take a deep breath of the coppery scent of blood. Throwing back my head, my eyelashes flutter shut.

I revel in it.

I could dance to Quintus’ death thoes, twirling in these scarlet sheets.

Like this, surrounded by the tang of blood with a gleaming weapon in my hand and the thrill of a kill, I can imagine that I’m actually on a battlefield.

Joy swells through me in a way that it hasn’t since Aurelius burned my world around me in Rune Forest.

I’m in the midst of wild fighting. I’m a leader again surrounded by the featherglass, my fae brothers and sisters.

I can pretend, just for this one triumphant moment, that I’m not a courtesan dressed in thin silks stained from white to red, straddling a dying man on the orders of the true ruler and nightmare of these realms.