Page 49 of Claimed By the Sinful Dragon
“I only speak to those worthy of my attention—which you’re not, unless His Highness determines otherwise. Now move.”
He reached for my wrist and I skittered forward, raising my bound hands in resignation. “Moving.”
He grunted again, and steered me through the opulent corridor. Everything was over-done to the point of ostentation. Every floor was covered with thick rugs, every wall hung with heavy tapestries. And the heads of creatures I didn’t recognize were mounted on the walls at intervals. I kept my eyes forward.
It was not, thankfully, a long walk. Though there were multiple doors set into the walls on either side of us as we passed, there was no doubt in my mind where we were headed. Because at the end of the corridor, a pair of double doors were set into the wall, and they were as imposing as the ones we’d entered through. Whoever this King Uther was, he held a high opinion of himself. But then, he was a dragon, and it seemed like the two went together—from my admittedly limited exposure to them. Then again, the dragon escorting me was playing errand boy rather than sitting behind high walls and stupidly vast doors, so there was obviously at least some kind of hierarchy at play here. I couldn’t help but wonder if ‘King’ was just the dragon equivalent of alpha. I’d have asked Rook, except for the fact he hadn’t told me a single thing about his world. Shocker.
We reached the doors and my guard knocked once, and then opened one, gripping my arm and yanking me to a halt as I made to step inside.
“Wait,” he growled, low and rough in my ear.
I stayed still, ignoring the painful way his fingers bit into my upper arm, and distracted myself by looking into the room whose threshold we stood on. It was every bit as largeand overstated as the hallways and doors had suggested, with ceilings high enough you could get a dragon in here—which, I guess, was the idea—and vast windows letting light pour in, illuminating the stone flooring and the wood paneled walls, hung with yet more tapestries, these ones depicting dragons in flight, breathing fire on…crap. Wolves. Of course wolves. My day just kept getting better and better. I wrenched my eyes from them to the oversized table that sat in the center of the room, made of yet more wood, and I had to admit the sheer amount of wood in this place was unexpected, given the whole fire-breathing thing dragons had going on. Seemed like an odd choice, but then, I was just a null. Who was I to judge? Maps covered the table’s surface, each bearing a few dozen markers in red, blue, and yellow, and it was these that held the attention of the room’s single occupant.
Even from across the room, the weight of his presence was suffocating, pressing down on me like the air itself was heavier here. He stood at the head of the table, broad-shouldered and straight-backed, his every movement slow and deliberate, his downward gaze letting the light catch his hair, which seemed to have a faint metallic gleam to it. His dark cloak, embroidered with gold thread in the shape of dragons in flight, fell nearly to the floor, only emphasizing the sheer, ridiculous height of him. He wasn’t just tall—he was big, his presence filling the room so completely that I had no idea how he hadn’t been the first and only thing that had demanded my attention.Then again, I’d been distracted by the tapestries. Stupid tapestries.
He raised one hand without looking up—guess his heightened dragon senses had been enough to tell him who was standing at his door—and beckoned us curtly inside. My guard steered me in, pausing to close the door behind us.
And still Uther—because this couldonlybe Uther—didn’t look up, taking his time to study whatever the hell it was that had his interest on the table. Which was absolutely fine by me, because I was abruptly absolutely, one hundred percent certain that I didn’t want his attention on me. But his gesture told me everything I needed to know. He was aware we were here, and I was pretty sure his attention wasn’t truly on the maps. No. I’d seen Rook do it enough times to recognize a power play when I saw one. He was making a point. I was beneath him in every way, and his attention was entirely his to give—or withhold—at his whim. This time, I had the sense to keep my observations to myself. Some inner voice was warning me that this man, this beast, was dangerous beyond measure, and I agreed.
After a long, painfully drawn-out minute, he turned his head just slightly, enough that the light caught his face. His features were sharp and angled, as though they’d been carved from stone, and his eyes—fuck—his eyes were bright, molten gold, like they’d been plucked straight from the flames of his dragon form. They burned as they landed on me,flicking over my form with the barest interest. My skin crawled under his predatory attention.
His lips curled faintly, not really a smile, more like a reminder that he could crush me if he wanted to. When he spoke, it wasn’t to me, and his voice was smooth and deep, a sound that pressed down on me like a physical threat.
“Ah, you’ve brought the new trinket for my collection. She is as the wolves claimed, then?”
“I cannot say, Your Highness,” my escort said, dropping to one knee and bowing his head as he addressed the king. “Only your judgement is to be trusted.”
“Well, girl?” the king asked, advancing on me, his predatory gaze pinning me in place, despite every instinct in my bodywanting to back away. So I did what I always did when I was faced with mortal danger: the absolute dumbest thing possible. I lifted my chin and met his eye, ignoring the sharp intake of breath from the guard.
“I’m not a trinket. And I’m not yours.”
Absolute silence met my declaration for a long heartbeat. And then the king threw his head back and laughed.
“How delightful,” he said, but his voice didn’t sound delighted. No. He sounded like he was about to tear me apart, and like he was looking forward to it. “You think you have some kind of say in the matter. Do you know who I am, girl?”
“I have a name,” I ground out.
Uther sent a casual glance at my guard, and before I could react, the back of the guard’s hand smashed into my cheek, sending me crashing to the ground. Pain exploded across my face and I tasted blood leaking from my lip. My head spun from the force of the blow, but I forced myself to look up at Uther.
“You used to have a name,” he said. “And no doubt you used to have a life. You are now my property, and you have whatever I decide. Would you like me to decide you should have more injuries?”
I shook my head quickly. What the fuck was I doing? This was the dragon alpha, the most dangerous male on the entire continent. He could kill me as soon as snap his fingers—without even snapping his fingers, if what had just happened was anything to go by. It was only his interest in me that meant I was still breathing, and I very much wanted to continue breathing. Just somewhere far, far from here. Something told me if I wound up like those chained wolves outside, I’d be here until I died.And my spirit would die a long time before my body had the decency to follow suit.
“Wise, girl. You havesomeintelligence, at least. Certainly more than those wolves who sold you to me. But that’s hardly surprising, now, is it?”
Did he mean because Landon was dumb as fuck, or because I wasn’t like them? Did he actually think being a null made mebetterthan them?
He chuckled again, this time surprise tinting the sound. “You have no idea, do you? What you are?”
I kept my eyes averted, but I heard his voice turn cold.
“Answer me, girl. Or do you need to be…encouraged?”
“I’m a null,” I forced out. “Wolfless. But I’m still a shifter.”
“How delightful. You truly have no idea.”
I jerked my eyes up, meeting his for a second—long enough to see the pure greed and malice lurking there, then forced my gaze away again, letting it settle on the table behind him.
