Page 127 of Courting the Dragon Prince
Then Warden Flint turned and walked down the corridor without waiting for a response as if he just expected Luther to follow.
The nerve! Pressing his lips together, Luther followed as annoyance at the man’s presumptuousness swelled inside his chest. Did this man just think Luther was at his beck and call? Did he think Luther some servant? And what could truly be so fucking important at this moment?
Still, he followed Warden Flint, glaring at the back of his head.
The warden’s feet clomped on the stone. His grey robes swished. Several keys jangled from plaited leather cords attached to a sash at his waist. One of the keys, a brass key, had the same unusual pattern along the stem as the one that had been used on the shackles from his and Onyx’s couple’s quest.
Luther’s throat tightened at the memory. He held in a sigh. He just wanted to be left alone and lick his wounds in peace.
Warden Flint had seen Onyx and Luther fighting. Surely the man must realise how rude it was to intrude on Luther at such a time.
Did the man have no fucking decency?
But … maybe Warden Flint was bringing Luther to Onyx to try to help them make amends for the sake of the treaty.
“Where is Onyx?” Luther asked.
Warden Flint glanced back. “Resting in his room.”
Luther deflated. He could see they weren’t heading towards Onyx’s room. In fact, he didn’t recognise the part of the castle they were currently in.
So what could possibly be so important that Warden Flint needed him right this minute? He bit his lip, trying to control his irritation.
Fire and fucking flames! I just want to be left alone so I can mope! Is that too much to ask?
Seething, Luther followed Onyx’s uncle through the castle.
“Just down here.” Warden Flint led them down a flight of narrow stairs to a large wooden door.
Luther frowned. “Where are we going?” Luther glanced around. Why had Warden Flint taken him to this strange part of the castle?
Warden Flint smiled. “It’s just through here.” He opened the door. It swung open with a low, groaning creak. Warden Flint stepped aside and indicated for him to enter.
Frowning, Luther did. He froze. “Why the fuck are we in a dungeon?”
Then his heart stopped. “What?” Why the fuck was Onyx lying on the floor of one of the cells?
Before he had time to process, several arms grabbed him from behind. Grunting, Luther fought. He shoved an elbow back. It hit something soft. He heard a cry of pain.
Luther managed to turn and realised he faced four opponents. One currently clutched at his stomach, face twisted in pain. The other three fell on him. He kicked and punched. But he was outnumbered. They wrestled him to the floor.
One grabbed his arms, yanking them together in front of him. The injured man, having recovered, approached, holding out shackles similar-looking to the ones used during the couple’s quest.
Luther struggled against the hands that held him. But it was no use. The cold metal slid against the skin of his wrists. A click sounded as the shackles locked. His attackers retreated.
Warden Flint stepped forward, staring down at Luther. “I deeply regret the need to kill my nephew. But I will hold no regret for killing you, Prince Luther.” He smiled.
Fuck.
ChapterFifty-Eight
Onyx tried to open his eyes. But his eyelids wouldn’t budge. His body, his limbs, everything felt far too heavy.
He heard a voice.
Luther’s voice.
Affection stirred in Onyx’s chest. But what was Luther saying? Onyx couldn’t make out the words. It was as if Luther spoke with his mouth full of water. Why would Luther be speaking with a mouth full of water?
