Page 121 of Dragon Gods

“Is there something you’d like to say, Father?” he said, standing. He wasn’t sure why he’d never noticed that he was taller than him. When had that happened? He used his size, striding forward with his head held high.

Something akin to surprise flickered through his father’s face, unused to being confronted. There was something freeing in the realization that he’d never make his father proud. He didn’t need to.

“You think you’re so special because the chief commander likes you?” he said, swaying as he stepped forward, meeting Fox’s own glare. “You are nothing. You’ve always been nothing. A pale imitation of your brother.”

“Jealous of me, Father? How childish.”

“I’m still your superior even if you’ve sucked the chief commander’s cock enough times to convince him to promote you.”

The words were foul and Fox didn’t think before he reacted, slapping his father across the face.

The world froze as both of them stared at Fox’s hand. His father’s cheek went pink. In all their cycles of fighting, he’d never hit back. Never.

His father swung his fist, aiming for Fox’s face, but his reactions were sluggish and weak and Fox sidestepped out of the way easily. He wasn’t expecting his father’s other hand coming up to snatch at his hair where it hung loose around his shoulders. The sharp tug at his roots had him hissing and his father brought his head back, twisting his neck. The stitches along Fox’s side pulled tight.

“Don’t you dare raise a hand to me again. I don’t know what happened to you out there with those dragon-filth traitors whispering in your ear, but you’ve changed. I will find out the truth, and if you’ve stepped one toe out of line, I’ll send you to the execution block myself.”

He let go, storming from the room before Fox could respond, leaving him standing in the sitting room, breathing heavily and trying not to scream. He didn’t know if Mother had actually gone to request dinner be served, but he didn’t care. Not bothering to change into a different set of clothes, he grabbed his cloak and exited through the front door.

Fox didn’t return until many hours later when he’d had enough alcohol of his own to wash out the feeling of his father’s fingers in his hair.

CHAPTERFORTY-THREE

SOFIA

Sofia spent the next few days after Fox had delivered the salve forcing it on the others as they each returned from their interrogations. Her entire body ached, the medicines Fox had brought doing just enough to take the edge off the pain. But she’d survived worse, and she’d survive this, if only to kill the general and chief commander slowly and painfully.

Sofia hadn’t been taken back in for questioning, but every other Dragonborn had. And General Ocon made sure she saw them as they returned, bloody and broken. Each time, he’d sneer down at her, reminding her that this was her fault for not giving him the information he wanted. She could stop it all.

Fox hadn’t appeared again, and she tried her hardest not to think too much of his absence. She couldn’t even tell if it was disappointment or relief she felt every day she went without seeing him. If she was being honest, she didn’t know if she trusted him. He’d seemed in earnest when he’d come with the medicine, but going against orders to give her the pain tincture was much different from committing treason against the king gods. Either way, he hadn’t come back to ask about the prayer, and all she could do was wait. That thought alone was enough to make her mind scream in the middle of the night as she woke from nightmares.

On the worst nights, she dreamed of waking up in the cells, everyone around her dead. Flor’s hair would be splayed out, matching the blood trickling from her head. Micael would be crumpled on the ground, an old man instead of the fighter she knew him to be. It was always just her left alive to sit, steeped in blood and death.

She was pulling herself from such a nightmare when she heard the distinct clatter of steps and chains that announced the soldiers were back from their latest interrogation. Sofia didn’t understand what the general expected after a week of interrogations. No one had given them anything. Most of the supposed resistance fighters who joined them in the cells were nothing more than families caught with too much meat or an altar in their house. But what did that matter? This was all an excuse to pare down the number of Dragonborn in the slums.

As Micael was haphazardly thrown back into his cell, Sofia noticed the trail of blood he’d left behind in his wake. A deep cut crossed his face, nearly bisecting his eye. He’d be lucky to not lose it.

Bile rose in Sofia’s throat and she didn’t bother swallowing it back down.

“Fucking king’s spawn.” She spit the words at the general who was speaking with his men.

She nearly jumped when one of the soldiers turned, his familiar face jarring. He stepped toward her, fist raised as if to hit her through the bars, but his comrade stopped him with a hand to his shoulder. Yet, as the others filtered out, he stayed behind, waiting until he was alone to turn fully to Sofia again.

“Vato,” she said, voice soft as a whisper. Happy to see the man again after three days of nothing.

He didn’t smile, face tight with contrition. “The messages were sent out. I have a few direct allies in the city and a few connections across the wall, but we’ll see who can rally and make it. I gave them until the new moons, but I don’t know if it will be enough time.”

He spoke the words softly, eyes focused on the door the other soldier had just passed through.

“Any news on your distraction?” he asked.

Sofia answered before anyone else could, “No, but I…I think there is still hope he’ll follow through.”

The young man’s bright green eyes flickered to her briefly and narrowed. “You want to tell me who it is you’re trusting?”

She bit her lip. They’d been through this already when Vato had first found them in the cells, but she wasn’t ready to give Fox’s name up. Whether it was to protect him or protect herself when his loyalty inevitably fell through, she wasn’t sure. He definitely didn’t know that her planned distraction was a dragon.

“Scales, you’re a stubborn one,” he said when it was clear she wouldn’t answer. “No wonder—” he stopped himself with the shake of his head and looked away.

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