“Do not cry!” the voice booms, cold and merciless. “You are a warrior. A weapon. Now get up and try again!”
I curl in on myself, my small frame trembling. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to test my magic. It scares me, more than anything. More than the dragon shifter’s wrath, more than the sting of his slap, more than the cold, unyielding voice of Ryuk Kotov.
“You will go hungry until you obey. Now, do it!”
The threat of hunger gnaws at me, a familiar emptiness that I know all too well. Slowly, I force myself to stand, resolve hardening in the pit of my stomach. I can’t fail, not again.
“Please don’t consume me,” I beg silently, pleading with the dark magic that stirs within me, a force I don’t understand, a power I can’t control.
“It’s okay, child,” a voice whispers back, gentle and soothing, like a comforting embrace in the darkness.
“We have you,” another voice joins in, echoing the first, a promise of protection.
I whimper, the fear and uncertainty still clawing at me, but I quickly wipe away my tears. I can’t afford to show weakness, not here, not now. Not ever again.
I jolt awake, my heart pounding violently against my chest, the remnants of the dream clinging to me like a cold sweat. My fingers tremble as I hurriedly brush my hands across my face, pushing the damp strands of hair away. It’s been an eternity since I last encountered a nightmare, but this one felt different—more like a warning than just a bad dream.
I take a deep breath, trying to shake it off, but the unease lingers, coiling tight in the pit of my stomach. The impending confrontation with the Kotov brothers is what truly sets my nerves on edge. Just thinking about it makes my stomach churn with anxiety.
Chapter nine
Ashwiyaa
She took a deep breath and whispered to her soul, “I got this.” -Mona Lee
Ilean against the cool marble pillar and once again marvel at the grandeur of the Kotov mansion. The space seems endless, with multiple corridors leading to different wings of the estate. Through the towering windows, I catch glimpses of the sprawling gardens, meticulously manicured with vibrant flowers and lush greenery. This mansion truly embodies opulence and luxury, a testament to the Kotov family’s wealth and prestige. Though the dragon shifters do require room to move about and be able to shift in private when the need arises. They even have an underground cave on the estate with a lagoon.
Mybangles make a noise as I adjust my position. Despite being in my usual attire of black skinny jeans and boots, I decided to make an extra effort with my appearance today. I adorned myself with a striking black-glitter singlet that shimmers under the light, and carefully weaved beads into my hair, adding an element of whimsy to my look. As a final touch, I materialized my beloved gold arm cuff, its weight settling comfortably around my biceps.
The three Kotov brothers are known for their meticulousness and their love for all things that sparkle. I guess it goes hand in hand with being dragons—the need to collect rare and shiny things. So, I know they won’t let me go easily, especially since I am the only known worldwalker alive. But by dressing in a particular way, I hope it will divert their attention from my request and make them agree more easily. I really hope it will be that easy; however, I know deep down that Penn, Alexander, and Demitri are cunning individuals who will easily see through my façade. Growing up together, they were like older brothers to me, but I could never forget they were my bosses first and foremost. It’s always been clear to me they would not hesitate to eliminate me, should the need arise. Something Demitri has no problem reminding me of regularly.
With a heavy sigh, I push away from the pillar, the cold stone no longer offering any comfort. My patience, already thin, begins to fray as I start pacing back and forth, the rhythmic sound of my footsteps echoing in the empty space around me. They’re late. Of course they are. A deliberate slight, a calculated move to remind me of my place in this twisted hierarchy. I’m not stupid—I knew they’d keep me waiting, dragging out the inevitable meeting as if it were some kind of game, a petty display to assert their dominance.
But what they often forget—what theychooseto forget—is that I’ve been with the family since I was five years old.
That was when my true nature revealed itself. My family—my tribe—had always been close knit, bound by blood and tradition. But when they discovered the darkness that lurked within me, the fear in their eyes was unmistakable. It wasn’t just fear of the unknown, it was terror directed at me—their own flesh and blood.
I was rejected and sold to the Kotov family. I remember hearing the whispers ofdark witch, no soul,andevilas I was led away. Those words had cut deep, but the ones that had hurt the most were the ones not spoken by my mother and father. Sadness fills my chest, and I rub the spot over my heart. They didn’t even try to fight for me. I knew it was hopeless, but still their silence cut worse than any words ever could.
I sense Noah before he even enters the foyer, and my mood immediately sours. If there is one person here I would be happy to see go, it would be him. He’s a vile and petty snake shifter, and it’s not just the kind of snake he turns into—it’s his entire being. There’s a slimy, insidious quality to everything he does, from the way he slithers his way into conversations he doesn’t belong in, to the constant undercurrent of manipulation in his words.
But unfortunately, everyone in Kotov’s employment has a purpose, even Noah. As much as it grates on me, I know there’s a reason he’s kept around, some twisted value the Kotovs see in him. But if he didn’t have that purpose, I wouldn’t hesitate.
I’d throw him in the river without a second thought. Watch him struggle, and drown in the cold, dark, ruthless water. He doesn’t know I’m aware he can’t swim. A smile tugs at my lips as I picture him frantically splashing around, trying to keep his head above water. His arms would flail, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, desperately gasping for air. I can almost hear the panicked gasps and the spluttering as he realizes that the river’s currents are far stronger than his will to survive.
Itwould be so easy to let the water take him, to watch the cold, unforgiving depths pull him under. No one would miss him, and if they did, they’d know better than to ask questions.
“Oh, look, the favorite pet is here.”
My attention snaps to Noah, who stands just inside the door. A sly smirk creeps across his face as his eyes travel over my body, lingering on my chest. Being the focus of his attention grates on my nerves, making my teeth grind together. His brown eyes, piercing and unrelenting, bore into me with an intensity that feels almost physical. This man has a talent for sending my anger flaring, pushing my buttons with an effortless ease that infuriates me.
Every time he looks at me like that, it’s as if he’s challenging me, daring me to react. The hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, and a low growl escapes my throat, a primal response to the frustration bubbling inside me. My fists clench at my sides, nails digging into my palms as I fight the urge to lash out.
I know he’s aware of the effect he has on me. There’s a glint of satisfaction in his eyes, a smugness that only fuels my rage further. He stands there, infuriatingly calm, while I’m on the verge of boiling over. But I refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing me lose control.
Breathing deeply, I force myself to break eye contact, focusing on something—anything—else to regain my composure. But the anger simmers just beneath the surface, waiting for the slightest provocation to erupt.
With a cunning smirk, he raises his hands. “What? You are their pet, right?”
