My throat bobbed, dangerously close to pulling her into my arms and cutting the trek down to minutes with my dragonspeed. My hands fisted at my sides instead. “You have my permission to ask anything you wish before we leave tomorrow.”
For fuck’s sake, could I sound any less like a growly bastard? Apparently not. How did Blade do it all the time? Soften his voice and pout? Charm and beg? Wag his tail and smile? It was madness for someone like me to try.
“How benevolent of you, my Liege,” came her saucy reply.
A worthy mate,my dragon rumbled in appreciation.
What, because she puts up with our shite?
Your shite,was all he growled, as if he hadn’t been the entire reason we searched for fifteen bleeding minutes to find a suitable chair for our human to sit on. Or the reason we growled at every male who’d so much as looked her direction. Or why we strutted her around in front ofall the bloody faction leadersknowing full well what it meant to do so.
Sure, I was the problem.
My internal grumbling faded away when Maze’s eyes lit up and her expression softened. “You said you knew more about my sector and Rebels than I do. What did you mean?” Her face didn’t match the gravity of the question, but I answered it all the same.
I tried not to growl in disgust as I replied, “It could be argued dragons are evil, but so are the males in your sector, Maze. Greedy, exploitative bastards, the lot of them.”
She didn’t argue as she kept pace with my much longer strides.
“Let me guess,” I started, worried about how to navigate the complex emotions of someone broken and given hope all in the same breath, but she needed to know. “You werefoundby these so-called Rebels after your family disappeared suddenly, or perhaps because you had none to speak of. You were likely young. A child. They took you in and provided food and shelter under the stipulation that you become one of them. Said it was for a future without demons, claiming only you could help makeit happen, and every part of you, your body and mind, were trainedto be tools for spying and killing.”
Maze’s eyes were glassy and unfocused, but she continued to walk, her pace never slowing.
“Your fellow Rebels, who I suspect were all female because only males filled the leadership roles, were sent out onmissionsas soon as they were deemed trained. Some disappeared. Some returned only to be sent on another. These missions required you to warm your target’s bed. I imagine you’ve never been asked to hurt or kill anyone of significance. Not human, anyway. No, they trained you to take the beating instead. Told you and your fellow Rebels it was so you could keep secrets under interrogation and torture. The only ones who had bruises were you and the females like you.” Anger seized every word out of my mouth. The mere thought of her in pain, of being tortured, of beingusedwas enough to make me homicidal.
Maze’s brow furrowed and her lips pursed, confirmation I was correct.
I’d heard enough from Iris. These so-called Rebel leaders taught their females how to fight, but only encouraged it toward dragons, not the gangs. Not unless it served a greater goal to gain power over defectors within the sector. They were pawns. Cannon fodder. The training kept them compliant and useful as Tributes, but the leaders in that sector had an understanding and exchanged their females as currency.
“Everything you did was said to be for the greater good, a future without demons lording over your lives, but that was merely what they told you, Maze.”
She didn’t say anything. It was an uncomfortable silence that stretched between us until I broke it again.
“Most of the Tributes sent to us from Desert Roseland are females identifying themselves as Rebels. The trouble is, they come from all over that sector. Every gang. Rebels aren’t asingular group in Desert Roseland. They areeveryfemale. If not for our restrictions about age, we’d likely receive them as young as you were when they first started training you. But Tributes are required to be twenty or older.”
That last statement changed her expression. Her eyes shot over to me in confusion and shock. “Twenty? Have you never had anyone younger than that?” she asked quickly.
I sneered thinking back on the many times sectors like hers tried, but their Tributes never made it beyond their borders. “Not for as long as I’ve been leader, no.”
Another flash of emotion twisted her face. “So someone who was sixteen never came to you?”
I sensed the importance of her question and stopped to look at her. “Never. I wouldn’t allow it, Maze. I might be many things, but I’ll never accept children as Tributes.” My tone was low and dangerous, just the thought sending my beast into a rage. “And sixteen is achild.So, no, a Tribute that young would’ve never made it out of their sector.”
Tears swam in her eyes. Before I could think better of it, my arms went around her. I held her close, my embrace tight and unyielding, desperate to protect her from the life I’d made possible. Fuck, I didn’t have any right, but I still held on. Still let her warm breath seep through the thin material of my shirt. Still reveled in her delectably soft body and intoxicating scent, all while damning the choices I’d made that led my female to tears.
When she pulled away to look up at me, I only let her go so far. It was selfish, and it made me an absolute twat, but I wanted her close.
“They told me you took her. Well, the Sky Demons.”
Her grief-stricken voice twisted my insides. Fury simmered under the surface of my skin. My dragon was ready to summon a world of storms to destroy whoever hurt our little Moon Beast, but mostly he was angry at me for being the reason it happenedat all, and I couldn’t argue he was wrong. I’d done this to her. I could’ve changed things and I hadn’t. Not enough, anyway.
Humans sent dragons into hiding. Humans killed my mother to punish my father—a human like them and female infinitely kind and wise who’d barely lived a decent life. Humans drove the world to collapse with their greed and selfishness, but we were no better.Iwas no better.
“Her?” I asked, my voice surprisingly gentle despite the debilitating self-hatred growing inside my chest.
“My sister,” Maze said, voice breaking, and my spirit broke with it. “Luna.” A tear escaped her eye and trailed down her cheek. I wiped it away, silently swearing to fix this in whatever way I could. “She was sixteen. Seventeen years ago she disappeared. I was eight. They…they said demons—you—took her as a Tribute.”
A roar sat in my throat that would shake the very earth beneath our feet, but I needed to stay in control. She was counting on me to ease her suffering, right the wrongs, and prove she could rely on me, not become a deranged rage monster and scare her away.
