Page 82 of The Forbidden Dragon King
When Daire challenges me, he reminds me of Freya. Except, I can enjoy putting him on his knees, as much as Iadmired how he once fought me, savage and courageous on the battlefield.
Despite everything, he never looks beaten, even when he is staring up at me from furious, bruised eyes.
He has passed every one of my tests so far.
He isworthyof Freya, which is why I allowed her to journey back with him, have ensured that their work schedules coincide, and when he’s locked in the dungeons, make sure that it’s her duty to bring him food.
My back stiffens.
I have to tell Freya that even without the threads, I was falling for her in the army camp and every moment after in the long journey back.
I was certain that I would give away how much I cared for her (and how much it hurt to see Daire’s mark on her wrist, when I wanted to see mine next to it), if I spoke to her.
Instead, I rode ahead at the head of the army and slept on the other side of the camp each night in the barracks. I distracted myself by carving a wooden shrine for her parents.
Tarquin’s shrine has brought me comfort. I have been able to take it with me on every campaign.
I may not be able to meet my Omegas’ parents. I can still pay my respects to them by making this shrine, however, which I hope will bring Freya the same comfort.
Now home in the palace, I feel like I’m dying to live only two walls divided from Freya (to have her within my royal dragon nest), but at the same time, to be entirely apart from her.
Unable to touch or be touched.
I have to do something. Fucking change this. I can’t risk the threads snapping.
My breathing picks up, when I reach the high silver door that leads through to Maximinus’ study.
Maximinus loves to surround himself with symbols of his power. With one thought, he can control you.
He’s the only metallicum sorcerer in Draca.
If I’m truly golden to my core, what could he do to me?
I shudder.
I don’t know if it’s true or an empty threat but I’ll never forget Maximinus’ whisper when I’d once talked back to him as a teenager:Don’t you know that I canmelt your core to molten gold and then bleed it through your veins to dribble from your mouth, nose, and ears, before hardening it again to turn you into my living statue?
I had nightmares about that happening to me for years, along with the way that my uncle stroked my cheek gently as he said it. He was smiling fondly, looking like he wasexcitedabout the idea of adding me to his collection of statues in his study.
The statues that he could look at and touch whenever he wanted.
I don’t let the fear show on my face.
When I can’t control the tremor in my hands, however, I hold them smartly behind my back.
I take a ragged breath, staring up at the ornate solid doors, which are decorated with scenes of fierce dragons roaring flames.
Don’t show fear.
It’s only my body. Maximinus can’t touch my mind.
Become as cold as gold. A warrior. A weapon.
Feel nothing. Be nothing. Feel nothing…
I adjust my cloak, patting my tumble of hair, before smoothing the wrinkles in my tunic.
Then I raise my hand and sharply knock.
