Koens' brows lift upward, his teeth digging into his bottom lip before speaking again. “Do you like the gift I left you?” His arm stretches out, cocking his head to the side before giving me a wink.
My nails dig into my palms while deep lines form between my brows.That's it, I'm going to kill him.Florian glances over to me, scanning me up and down, watching me as if he knows I’m about to explode.
“You found her?” Florian asks.
“That is what the dungeon is for, right?” Koen toys, his voice laced with a sarcastic tone. “That is where you guys capture the dragon shifters, correct?”
Koen strides up to us, a dagger attached to his hip glistens against his all-black attire. He is so close to us, I could just leap from Florian’s grip and finally punch this man right in his damn face. Instead of responding to Koen, Florian stays nervously… quiet.
Which makes me want to be quiet.
“That is where you wait for them to turn and murder them…am I not mistaken?” Koen’s voice drops to a deep growl. His jaw ticks as he waits for his brother to respond but when his eyes glance my way,even just for a second, I lose it.
I can’t control the anger that has built up inside me since arriving to this place. I couldn’t care less if I am in the presence of a damn King.
“You left me there to die!” I bolt from the Prince’s grip and aggressively walk up to Koen, my palms hitting his chest, not even knocking him back. I pause, radiating pain shooting through my hands as his chest feels like steel. I want to scream, shake my hands until the pain is no longer there, but I bite my cheeks instead, holding the agony inside.
Damn it.That hurt.
One thick brow of his lifts as a small dimple forms in his cheek.Yuck.Is he smirking? He finds this whole situation amusing, while I find it quite frustrating.
“Did that hurt?” he questions me. But I know he already knows the answer.
“No.”
Yes. Yes it did. But no, I will not tell this man that his chest feels like solid steel.
My finger points in his face as I tiptoe up to him, locking my eyes directly on his. “You put me in a place where dragons are? What the hell were you thinking!”
He sighs, almost as if annoyed with my questions I seek. “I knew Florian would come. I knew he would find you with the red ribbon I left on your door…” He takes my finger, pushing it away from his face, and gently begins to brush my cheek with the back of his hand. “Now what happened here?”
I slap his hand away. On top of forgetting about the sand dragons, I must have forgotten about my cheek getting sliced by one of the rocks. “The damn sand dragons.”
Koen looks around me. “How did you trigger the dragons in the sand?”
Triggered? The dragons get… triggered?
“Unsure. We were going slow. There were around eight of them that I could see.” Prince Florian clears his throat. “We almost didn’t make it out alive.”
“And you didn’t heal her?” Koen’s eyes scan my face, searching for any more injuries. “She looks as if she has been through hell and back.”
Florian crosses his arms, cocking his head to the side. “Well, I tried.”
I lift my hands, tossing them around in frustration. “I don’t need his hands on me, doing whatever healing power thing he has. I’m fine.”
Koen’s eyes glances up and down, observing every bruise and cut I have on my exposed skin. “Are you sure you don’t want his hands on you?”
“I’m sure,” I say through gritted teeth.
As I shift to the side, glaring at Florian who shrugs his shoulders and lets out an amusing scuff, I can’t help but to feel frustrated at the two of them. I don’t need his hands on me,ever. Even if it's to heal me.
Koen shifts towards the King. “Has this happened before? The sand dragons coming in pairs like this?”
The King grumbles, tossing his hand in the air. “Never. It’s quite interesting to hear this.”
“Yeah, very interesting that your son here almost died and you aren’t concerned?” My feet begin to walk aggressively up to where he sits without even thinking, but a strong grip digs into my flesh, yanking me back.
Florian hovers over me, inches away from my face. His nostrils flare as his amber eyes spike with a hint of fire. “Do not speak to him that way.”
