Page 14 of Hoarded By the Dragon

The castigation for selling myself hardly makes a dent. It’s a generic slap. One that hurts in the first instant, but can be soothed with the knowledge that it was my choice. I do what I must to survive. I made the decision I did because the exchange worked for me.

I may have been backed into a corner metaphorically, but I had options. I could have used an expensive portal charm I carry to get out of there. But the dragon’s need called to me. It called to the part of myself I’ve neglected.

And using the charm wouldn’t have resulted in getting the figurine. Nemo is an asshole, but I did the job of breaking into a dragon’s hoard to save his life, and leaving without it defeated the purpose.

No, trading myself for a “bauble” didn’t poison our time together. It was everything else.

I hold my breath and dunk myself under the water, trying to escape the disgust in his voice. I resurface quickly with a frown.

The scalding water is now cold.Weird.I haven’t been soaking that long.

I shrug and pull the plug. A shower would be better to scour the scent of him from my skin anyway.

After showering and going through the motions of moisturizing and dabbing healing ointment on my bruises, I should be feeling more like myself, but something is still not right.

I shiver, pulling on a hoodie to fight the odd chill. It’s summer, but I must have set the thermostat too low. I check my phone while I wait for the coffee to percolate.

I purse my lips at the absence of messages from Nemo. I don’t know why I expected anything different. He only calls me when he needs something.

The calls and texts that I’ve missed are from Stella.

I’m running late. Save me a table.

Here. Where are you?

I ordered for you. I swear to the gods if you don’t show up by the time it gets here, I’m sending out a search party.

Starting to get nervous. Pick up the phone.

Fuck! We had plans to try the new noodle shop today. I press the call button at the same time as someone starts pounding on my door. I cancel the call and inch toward the go bag I hide in the false bottom of the chest at the end of my bed.

My adrenaline response is weak, but the options running through my brain help start to kick it into gear. Did Kalos change his mind about the exchange? Have the people threatening Nemo decide to track me down instead?

“Open the fucking door! You better hope you’re home. Otherwise, you’ll be in a world of pain when I find you.”

I blow out a relieved breath at my best friend’s panicked voice.

I undo the chain and unlock the door. “I’m so sorry. I was just about to call you.”

“So glad you’re alive. I can recall the search party now,” Stella replies with snark. When the door swings open, her eyes widen. “Wow. You look like shit.”

“Thank you for that.” My lips twitch. My muscle aches are slightly better than when I woke up, but god am I tired.

Stella doesn’t look like shit. Her sleek auburn hair is in a neat bun, but her blue eyes are bright and awake. Despite her chaotic nature and sailor’s mouth, Stella always looks effortlessly elegant in a timeless way. I attribute it to the fact that there is a hierarchy of witch families that deal in power and money—blue bloods of a sort—and Stella and her mother are from a very old one that fell from prominence.

Stella pushes past me with a raised brow, and I try to swallow my guilt down as I shut the door.

She curiously turns to take in my apartment, leaning to sneak a peek into my bedroom before placing a grocery bag with to-go containers on the round table.

“I half expected there to be a man in your bed with how absolutely fucked you look,” she says.

I blush. “I’m so sorry about standing you up. Something came up last night, and I didn’t get in until early this morning.”

“Kat.” Her eyes level on me, and I want to squirm.

I wince and sigh. Stella has an uncanny ability to see through my bullshit. We’ve only known each other for a couple of years. She’d brought a family painting to me to get restored as a present for her mom and had distrusted me on sight.

The painting was the keystone to their house wards, so she’d needed someone who knew about magic and restoration, and that list is very short. But apparently I was giving her suspicious vibes, and she kept poking until, more as a way to get her to find someone else for her project than because I liked her, I told everything.

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