Page 16 of Claimed By the Sinful Dragon
My dragon stirred smugly in my mind.
And you can cut that out,I snapped at him.Hell if I want to have to find yetanothernew Tribute because I broke this one. That’s all there is to it.
If you say so.
I do, you overgrown lizard. Go count your scales or something.
I blocked out his response as I slipped back into the corridor and followed it along to the kitchen. I assumed she would come this way, and the lingering scent of the leftover ‘soup’ confirmed it. At least there was no trail of blood – perhaps she wasn’tquiteas accident prone as she seemed. Maybe she’d just decided to take her temper out on my plates. My hands warmed at the thought. If shehadsmashed my possessions deliberately, in some juvenile attempt to gain retribution for my refusal to eat her offerings, then I’d teach her a thing or two about punishments. And about her place in this household. I would not be disrespected by a servant.
She needs time to adjust,my dragon rumbled.
She’s had time.
She’s had two days. Even for her kind, that is not long.
Since when are you such a paragon of sympathy?I demanded irritably as I stalked toward the kitchen.You’re obsessed with the girl.
Ah, yes.I’mthe one who’s obsessed.
Shut up. The girl pays for her mistakes, and that’s final.
The kitchen door was open when I reached it, but the sound that reached my ears stopped me stalking through. I’d expected her to be crying, or maybe sulking—or trying to climb out of the window. But Kaylee was stalking around the kitchen, scrubbing dishes and worktops sporadically, and she soundedpissed.
“Stupid dragon,” she muttered as she tossed a pan in the sink. I made a note to show her how the dishwasher worked if she ever stopped behaving like a brat. Sometimes I missed the days before dragons had revealed themselves, when the lesser species had access to technology and thought this world was theirs…and knew how to work the most basic of kitchen appliances. I supposed I should be grateful she knew what a hob was—even if she clearly didn’t know how to use one.
“Stupid arrogantkidnapper,” she continued,” too good to eat my soup just because it tastes like shit.”
She snorted in irritation as she picked up a scrubbing brush and attacked the soup pan. “I have work to do,” she huffed in a poor imitation of me. “Work, my ass. I’m the only one round here who has to do any work. Stupid Landon making stupid deals.”
I grinned at her tirade. I didn’t have the heart to point out that the deal had been made long before Landon was born, and that her pack wouldn’t still exist if it hadn’t been made. Besides, it was much too entertaining listening to her berate everyoneand thing that had ever existed as she stalked around the kitchen.
She growled adorably as she scrubbed at the pan, up on her toes as she attempted to use her weight against the burned metal, and then she flung the scrubbing brush down and hauled the pan from the sink. I canted my head, watching as she hoisted it towards the window.
“It’s not like Mr. High-and-Mighty can’t afford another pan,” she chirped, seeming inordinately pleased with herself. My brows knitted in confusion at her sudden change of demeanor, and then shot up as, beaming widely, she shoved the pan out of the window, and dusted her hands against each other as it crashed to the ground outside.
I clamped my jaw shut to stop my laughter giving me away, and drew back from the door, shoulders shaking in silent mirth. At least I didn’t have to worry about her curling up and meekly fading away from depression any time soon. After that performance? I was pretty sure there was nothing meek about the girl at all.
Chapter 10
Kaylee
I spent thenext few days hiding in the kitchen, scrubbing everything in sight because there was more than a few days’ worth of grime down here. In the entire mansion, in fact, but I didn’t much fancy venturing out there. I could almost feel Rook’s presence lurking in the other rooms, and the farther I was from him, the better. If my dreams each night were anything to go on, then I most definitely could not be trusted.
When I wasn’t cleaning, I practiced cooking. Dozens of different meals, most of which would only have been fit to feed to the animals, if there had been any round here. The kitchen was ridiculously well stocked for two people, though I had no ideahowhe kept it stocked—I never saw anyone dropping supplies. On balance, I decided not to ask. It seemed like the least of my problems right now.
I only saw Rook at mealtimes, when he insisted I ate with him, which I did mostly in silence whilst steadfastly avoiding making eye contact—or any other sort of contact. Especially of the skin-on-skin variety. Since there’d been no more death threats, I assumed my practice in the kitchen had paid off and my attempts resembled more actual meals and less assassination attempts. Another decade or so and I might actually be a passable chef. And who said getting abducted by brooding assholes was bad for your career prospects?
A decade.
Abruptly, the kitchen was too hot. Too claustrophobic. Stifling. I reached over to turn the heat off under whatever itwas I’d just burned on the hob—hey, mastering cooking was going to take more than a week—and grabbed a cloth and bucket. Camouflage: if Lord Asshole saw me, he’d assume I was cleaning. Someone was going to have to, sooner or later, but this place was vast and I’d rather put it off as long as possible. Just cleaning the kitchens had taken me the better part of the week.
I hurried out of the kitchen and kept walking, wandering through the winding hallways and up one of the staircases. The air was surprisingly fresh, and although there were no windows that opened directly onto the hallway, it was well lit. Well enough lit that I could see the dusty footprints on the wooden flooring, and the dust webs tucked up against the high ceilings. My predecessor really had dropped the ball. Not that I could blame her—Rook’s cranky ass hardly inspired loyalty. And the constant threat of death wasn’t exactly great for long-term motivation.
Maybe he’d followed through on one of his threats. Maybe he’d eaten her.
…And I immediately made a mental note not to voice that theory around him in case he decided I might taste better than my meals.
I trailed my fingers along the grimy walls as I went, wondering exactly how long it was going to take me to get this place clean. Maybe by the time I got from one end to the other, the start would need doing again. Maybe that was why everywhere looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in months.
