Page 74 of A Crown of Tears and Treason
Slick with sweat from the blistering sun that made me want to rip my own cloak off, he stood there in all his glory. He wore his tight, leather armor pants, his mighty sword resting in its sheath at his hip. His Blood Brotherhood medallion shined against his skin, winking when it caught the light. Zandyr had the body of a fighter, all sinewy, corded muscles, honed through training.
I licked my lips. The heat was getting to me, frying my thoughts.
Zandyr wiped his brow and turned.
My mouth wentdry.
All the way from his left shoulder, snaking down the large expanse of his back, with its tail disappearing underneath the waist of his pants, was a large dragon tattoo. Its head snarled right between his shoulder blades and moved in sync with Zandyr’s muscles. The fanged mouth was open right around the back of his neck, as if ready to snap it.
Half the dragon’s body was flecked with black, the rest unfilled.
I squinted my eyes. No. Those were scales, with small dots in each; some scales were completely filled with black, while others only had a fleck or two.
The Dragon, in all his splendor.
“See those scales?” Adara asked.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I shook my head, willing my gaze away. But it betrayed me again, rushing back toward Zandyr.
“Each one is for a life he’s taken,” she said.
My chest tightened. There were already hundreds, maybe thousands of them. And the dragon was only half-filled.
“And the dots?” I asked, almost too afraid of the answer.
“One for each life he’s saved with that one scale.” Adara nodded at me. “Remember that when you start taking lives, too.”
I wanted to argue, I did. That I wasn’t a killer. That I couldn’t even kill Fabrian when he’d tried to use me as a human shield.
But then my mind went back to those three men.
The short one with the scar.
The one with the eagle tattoo.
The one with the mismatched eyes.
Maybe I could take a life. Or three. Because my blood still boiled with vengeance.
“Haven’t you heard?” I asked, a loathing little smile twisting my lips. “I’m a lamb.”
Adara snorted a laugh. “You’re a wolf playing dress-up. Or you will become one once I’m through with you.”
That had almost sounded like a compliment.
I watched Zandyr move effortlessly, hefting heavy loads like they were nothing one second, then holding an old woman’s hand as she caned her way down to the dock. A myriad of contradictions, this fearsome Dragon.
Beside him, another man moved just as fluidly. The blond shaved head. The impossible height. The presence of someone who could squash you like a bug.
The ghost from my wedding. The Commander. Allie’s betrothed.
“Ryker’s showing off again.” Kaya rolled her eyes. “Don’t get into a staring match with him, he never loses.”
Well, he’d have to get used to losing, because Allie always won.
“If you’re done staring,” Adara said. “We can–”
The change was instant.
