Page 114 of The Last Dragon
Afamiliar icy touch circles my wrists, and every time I try to pull myself free, pain radiates down my arms. I’m trapped, hung like a pig for slaughter against the stone wall. A puff of heat surges from the torches above, the only source of light I have.
A faint moan rings in my ears. My blurred vision traces the red silhouette strung beside me.
Nida.
I jiggle the chains to get closer, examining her for any fatal wounds, but I can’t see anything from this angle.
“Nida—can you hear me?” I say, my voice a rasp.
She blinks, lifts her head slightly, and gives a weak nod. Her amber eyes catch the light, bright against the dried blood on her cheek.
Pain shoots through my arms as I pull harder, the chains threatening to snap my wrists. They’re forged from Karalia’sstrongest alloy—strong enough to hold down a dragon. But even if I could break them, there’s no way out.
There are chains everywhere, embedded into the walls like parasites clinging to a host. They twist and coil upward, metal bars jut from the walls, and copper tubes snake across the ceiling, leading to a massive metal door directly across from me.
What is this place?
I narrow my eyes as they adjust to the dark. Two guards flank the door—rigid, alert—screams Corps. Just more of the general’s puppets. I wrap my right hand around the chain and pull—slow, testing. Nothing. As I strain, something stirs beneath my skin. A faint tingling, rising from my chest to my throat. A bitter reminder. I didn’t take the serum.
Shit.
I take a slow breath, forcing calm into my chest. Stress only feeds the venom. Still, I can’t shake the need to break free from these chains
“They want something,” Nida says. “We’d be dead by now if there wasn’t something.”
I glance at her. Her eyes are clearer now, scanning the room like I am, tracking angles, corners, possibilities.I’ve been here before.A shiver snakes up my spine, a warning I can’t ignore. Whatever happens here, it can’t be good.
“I don’t want to stay and find out.” I test the chains again, biting back a groan as metal digs into my skin. “They overdid it with these. If they’d used standard links, I might’ve had a chance.”
“They’re scared of you.” Her eyes flick to my wrists. “Why else would they use this alloy?”
“Not sure. But whatever happens next, we need to be ready. Look for anything we can use.”
“The chains themselves.”
I glance at the wall behind her, where the stone looks uneven. A fault line? A weak spot?
“There’s a crack behind you. I’ll try to get to you,” I say. “If I can reach your chains—”
“You won’t,” she cuts in, calm and certain. “But if they unchain me first… I’ll make sure they regret it.”
A loud clang echoes through the cave. The door creaks open slowly. Light floods in, blinding me for a moment before my eyes adjust. Five masked men step inside, Grogol right behind them, a grin playing on his lips. I bare my teeth at him as he approaches—then he stops, mere inches from me. He shakes his head, clicking his tongue in disappointment before drawing in a slow breath to speak.
“Look at you,” he says, jaw clenched tight, his piercing blue eyes narrowing like a snake ready to strike. The lines around his eyes deepen, crow’s feet marking years of monstrous decisions. “It breaks my heart to see you like this,Kazele.”
I don’t say a word. Silence settles between us. I meet his gaze without flinching, and he stands there, hands folded behind his back, waiting. But I give him nothing.
“Stubborn,” he mutters, raising a brow, the faintest hint of a smirk curling at the edge of his lips.
For a moment, I forget the stinging in my chest from the venom, but as time passes—it’s harder to ignore. Every breath is sharp, shaky, and more noticeable, especially as Grogol starts observing my face. He knows it’s not anger written all over me. It’spain.
“Even with the mess you have made,” he says, adjusting his composure, “I am willing to give you a chance.” .
“A chance?” I bark, my pulse quickening. “You think I’ll ever side with you, now that I know what you've done?”
“Perhaps if you were to listen to the words I speak, you might understand the reason for my decisions.” He articulates every word as if talking to an unruly child.
“No,” I spit. “I’m done listening to you.”
