Page 2 of Scalebound

I didn’t want to move to give away that I was carrying four bottles of sleeping potions on me, making me stay in place right by his body. He would send me straight to my father, and then I couldn’t stay to watch the Trials by Fire. Not that I wanted to, but I had to know what would happen.

“How thoughtful,” I wanted to spit through my teeth. The idea of threatening him pestered me. He wouldn’t last a day on the throne even if he won. And if he did, I would find a way to take it from him, proving to him and my father that the throne was mine.

He released me with a sigh and leaned over to kiss my hand as if gently holding me the whole time. The presence of his hands on my hips lingered, although he had let go. With a side smile pinned on his face, he sauntered off, leaving toward the line of people waiting to learn of the new heir.

The blood boiled in my body, the paleness of my face emitting. The unwanted interaction set my blood aflame, but I knew I was running out of time for the slight chance to saveLaneux2. I swiftly entered the tent, wanting so badly to escape the lingering touch of Tobias.

It was disheartening to think he would be the best king out of all the options. He would actually have the confidence and ability to run the kingdom. But I couldn’t think of anyone stealing what was supposed to be mine.

The tent was soiled and lazily draped up, looking as though it would fall any second. Armor, weapons, clothing, and rags were cluttered along the interior and dangled from the ceiling, drooping low to the dirt ground. The tang of salt hung in the air, mingling with the unmistakable scent of sweat.

Bottles of alcohol were scattered across the lengthy white tables that surrounded the perimeter. The flasks full of cheap wine formulated a sour smell.

Making my way toward the heap of bottles, I was determined to get the job done. The table that held them was made of light wood and felt unsteady, the wood splintering on the sides, and the structure of it tilting.

I removed my cloak, revealing the sleeping potions that I had attached to my sides on a leather belt. The liquid in them was bright and ethereal. They were my backup if I couldn’t help the dragon escape. I just hoped that the knights would be back here before they fought.

Opening the dark vials I had brought, the slight pewter smoke lifted, making me choke. Small wisps of blue trickled through the air as I poured the liquid into the bottles of alcohol. I needed this to work. I wasn’t sure I would have time to find the tethered connection to the old magic used onLaneux, and this was my last chance to save him before the trials.

I quickly tapped the corks back in place once I was finished and hid the bottles under a pile of dirty clothes on the side of the tent. Hearing some noise outside, I quickly pulled my black hood back over my face to cover my light pink hair and golden eyes, exiting the tent without a second thought.

“Excuse me,” a bald knight said, passing me to go inside the tent. Others followed after, laughing and rambunctious. Most likely, they were already drunk. They didn’t pay me attention as I slipped outside the door, my eyes on the floor.

After passing a few knights, heading toward the stadium, a hefty woman with strong shoulders and confidence raced after them.

“Wait, wait! We are about to start! Knights, get your armor fixed and meet us in the arena. Quick!” Her thick accent scratched my ears. “Is that alcohol, I see?”

My heart thrummed, knowing that I would letLaneuxdown. “Let me get that. You better not drink any before your match. Good luck!” From the outskirts of the castle, I watched as a gust of wind rustled the tent flaps, revealing the lady inside. She gathered the bottles and then left the tent, making her way toward the line of the arena.

Well, there went that plan.

I had other ideas, like replacing the knight's armor and weapons with weaker materials and outlining their chain-mail with powders to make them drowsy as they fought. However, as much as I didn’t want the dragon to die, I also didn’t want the men to die, either.

I blamed my father for doing this to him, to all the dragons. It was symbolism. It had been done for centuries. Scales, the killing of dragons was the reason for what I became.

Whether I liked it or not, the trials were about to start. Thousands of watchers encircled the arena. Commoners from the surrounding villages were invited to come, and they did. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. It used to be done more often, but with the dragons becoming extinct, they now only hosted the Trials by Fire on special occasions, like finding the new heir to the throne when your daughter could not run it.

I wasn’t supposed to be out of my tower, so I hovered. I didn’t stay in one area for longer than a few minutes at a time to avoid being seen. When roaming, I had my hood up so as not to expose my identity. No one could know who I was.What I was.

“Ladies and gentlemen!” My father spoke loudly throughout the arena, calling the attention of every last person. His throne was bejeweled in the center, his crown so bright you could see it in the furthest stands of the stadium. “Welcome to the Trials by Fire! Where we will find the strongest of our knights to become heir to the throne! As you may know, my daughter died when she was very young, leaving us heirless.” The lie that escaped his teeth made me flinch. However, it was a lie that ensnared and saved me at the same time. “We now stand together on this day to prepare ourselves for our future king! Hurrah!”

I slid between a few drunken men who started to wail as they witnessed the large trap door lowering to the far side of the pit. The metal chains grated as it gradually ascended, displaying the empty void whereLaneuxwas being held.

The crowd softened to a silence as the dragon’s steep footsteps pounded into the ground. A steady pace, exhilarating everyone’s heartbeats, waiting for his presence to be shown. His scales reflected the colors of the setting sun. Yellows, oranges, and reds accompanied the sun as it disappeared behind the horizon. He knew that, just like the sun, his end was near.

He was large, but the stadium was, in no comparison, grander. Those farthest up in their seats probably felt superior to Scalekind, watchingLaneuxas if he were a losing pawn in a chess game, ready to be eliminated without a second thought.

Being over twenty feet tall, he had the opportunity to scorch those who sat in the first rows of the arena. The flames could easily flee his throat and scorch every person.

But he didn’t.

The king’s men, wearing matching violet uniforms and chain-mail that sparkled from the sunlight, yanked onLaneux’schains, forcing him to the middle of the arena. The crackle of the rubbing metal made me wince with each movement. With the slight purple veil, noticeable only to me, marking my grandmother’s magic, compelling him to his chains.

Laneux’shead held low, as if praying to the gatekeeper ofEzu3to spare him from his slaughter. Small horns protruded through the top of his head, sticking out like sharp knives, immediate weapons for the combat he was forced upon.

“I won’t go without a fight,”he told me in my mind, the golden irises peering into my own, matched with mine from the curse I was. My lip trembled as he bowed, his snout glowering toward the floor, knowing that he wanted peace, but humans were the ones to disrupt it.

“Do what you need to do, Laneux.” I knew his name by heart. We didn’t have to tell each other, but dragons could sense each other’s names. It was like their aura. It was as if their soul had already whispered it to us as we met.

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