Page 76 of Dynasty of the Wicked

Zhi Ruo’s eyes widened. Blood flicked over the snow in bright splotches. Lanying’s screams became shriller. Soldiers gasped, but none of them drew closer.

She scrambled onto her knees, rushing over to the both of them. Zhi Ruo reached forward and grabbed the child around the chest, yanking him off Lanying. The dragon child was surprisingly light. He hissed and snarled, claws flailing as Zhi Ruo dragged him away. One of the soldiers took that opportunity to yank Lanying’s foot and drag her away from the dragon-child. Zhi Ruo held onto him tightly, even as his nails grazed her.

“Stop it! Stop!” she shouted into his ear.

His claws outstretched toward Lanying. He continued roaring.

“Stop!” Zhi Ruo fell backward, still holding the writhing child. He didn’t hurt her, he only struggled to get out of her grasp. His chains were cold and slick with Lanying’s blood, and his clothes were spotted with it too.

“That’s enough!” a voice boomed and a crack of magic filled the air.

Zhi Ruo screamed as heat singed her arms and she recoiled from the dragon, rolling onto the icy ground. The smell of burning flesh pervaded the air and she gagged, her chest and arms sweltering. The dragon-child seized on the ground, hisarms and limbs straightening as something seemed to paralyze him. A pained howl escaped from his mouth. The veins of his neck stood out as he trembled, stuck in an incapacitated, bent position. Hazy, smoke-like magic clung to his arms and legs, burning him.

Chanming shoved his way through the parting crowds. He took one look at Lanying, Zhi Ruo, and the dragon-child, his nostrils flaring as anger shifted over his expression. He snapped his fingers, and the dragon-child flailed on the ground, screaming more loudly, more gutturally.

“How dare you,” he seethed, face warping. “You know you’re not supposed to attack anyone!”

Zhi Ruo pushed herself onto her knees; her arms stung from the magicked attack, and she watched, helplessly, as Chanming continued snapping his fingers, magic thickening in the air around the boy. The dragon-child’s flesh turned red, the whites of his eyes bleeding.

“S-stop,” she whispered. She watched, in horror, as the boy curled into a ball, tears streaming down his face as he wailed. “Stop!”

Chanming didn’t seem to be listening. He continued sending wave after wave of torturous magic at the boy. The air grew dense with it. “You stupid, insolentdog,” he hissed, hurling more insults. “How long must I torment you for you tobehave? How long must it take for you tolearn?”

“Stop! You’re being too cruel!”

He turned his attention to her momentarily. “He disobeyed.”

He looked so much like Father that she wanted to vomit right then and there. Her muscles froze, and she resisted the urge to bow down to him, to curl her body inward like the dragon-child’s and beg for forgiveness.

But the dragon’s cries broke something within her.

“Stop!” Zhi Ruo ran to the dragon-child, whipping her hand over the dense magic. All at once, her own magic flared, shadows whipping from her hand and distorting over Chanming’s. She coiled her body protectively over the child, turning to glare at Chanming. “What are you doing? He’s a child!”

The dragon-child whimpered in her arms.

Chanming’s eyes widened, then his eyebrows pulled together in puzzlement. “Did you just …”

“He is achild!” she shouted again, holding him tighter. Her magic streamed to the ground, swirling in thin wisps around them, creating a circular barrier. “He doesn’t know any better!”

Chanming scowled, hands curling and gaze flicking over to his men. The soldiers began whispering amongst each other, and she realized she had made a mistake. It was never a good thing to question the authority of the leader in the area, and right now, Chanming was in charge.

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Zhi Ruo’smagic danced between them, hissing in the cold air; it was electrifying, buzzing and charging the air with a heaviness that was becoming familiar to her. She still couldn’t control it, but it seemed to rear its head whenever she needed help, whenever she wanted to protect someone, or herself.

Lanying moaned on the ground, clutching her bleeding arm. Cuts and gashes ran along her face, arms, and neck, bathing her in hues of vermilion.

Chanming gritted his teeth together. “Take her to Physician Wu.”

“Yes, sir.” Two soldiers went over to her and helped her to her feet.

Before they hauled her away, she shot a glare at the dragon-child. “You shouldn’t even keep him around, Chanming,” she said between grimaces. “You should kill him. There’s no sense keeping a mindless beast around.”

The dragon shuddered in Zhi Ruo’s arms, whimpering. Her magic surged, and she realized in a split second that if Chanming tried anything, she would fight him, right here, right now. She didn’t know what instinct was flaring within her, but shewouldn’t let him hurt the child any more than he had already done.

“Zhi.” Feng Mian made his way through the crowd, his expression stricken when he came to stand beside Chanming. He raised a hand; he could probably feel the vengeance in her magic. “It’s all right.”

“Come with me. Both of you,” Chanming said in a tight voice, a forced smile straining his mouth. He waved his hand at the other soldiers. “Everyone, get back to your station. There’s nothing to see here.”

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