“That was …” I swallow the word that rises in my throat.Cruel. It was cruel of them to sacrifice me for nothing more than a chest of gold. I fall silent.
The fire crackles.
I’m grateful for its warmth, for the solid ground beneath me, for whatever brief respite this is from what awaits me. I glance up at him again, studying him as he openly studies me. “What’s going to happen to me?” I feel a sliver of pride at being able to get the question out without so much as a whimper.
“What do you want to happen to you?” He keeps staring at me as if he sees everything, as if he can see what’s under my clothes, under my skin. As if he can see my beating, broken heart.
“I want to go home.” That’s not entirely true. I just want to return to my mother.
“The Bargain has been struck.”
I don’t bother arguing. He’s right. I was bartered away to the dragon he serves.
“What are you?” I ask. “You have wings and scales. Are you a child of the dragon somehow?” I feel dumb after asking it. How could a dragon mate with anything remotely the size of this male in front of me. “Or are you another creature like it?”
“Creature?” he asks, his tone lightly taunting.
I close my eyes, exhaustion washing over me. Even holding this conversation is taxing. “What should I call you?”
“I already told you. I am called Vander. And you are Larellin.”
“But whatareyou?” I press.
“Your master.”
My eyes open at that. “I have no master.”
“The men who chained you to that stone and left you for the dragon, were they not your masters?” he asks.
“They were …” I hesitate.
“They chose to leave you as dragon fodder, and yet you claim they were not your masters? Perhaps I’ve lost my command of the common tongue. Perhaps I don’t understand having dominion over others.”
“I was chosen. The chalice—it chose me. They were only doing?—”
“Ach.” He waves a large hand. “Making excuses for your executioners.”
I press my forehead to my knees. Shame rises in me, heating my face. Gods, he’s right. I was about to excuse what Lord Rayid and Kanelden did. When I know it’s wrong. The Bargain itself is wrong. Forcing anyone to sacrifice themselves—and it’s not lost on me that it’salwaysa maiden in Raingreen,alwaysone from the poorer part of the village—is wrong.
“I see I’ve twisted your mortal mind into a knot.” He rises.
I can’t escape him, but I try, pressing myself against the back of the sofa as he moves toward me. It only takes one step of his long legs to reach me. “Come. You will eat. I’ve made sure no one will disturb you.”
Without asking any permission, he scoops me into his arms.
“Hey!” I squirm and try to pry his arms from me.
He stops in the doorway to the hall. “Shall I drop you?”
“I can walk!”
“You’re weaker than a newborn cockleshell fairy.” He scowls and continues carrying me into the hall.
He’s not wrong. I mean, I don’t know what a cockleshell fairy is, but I feel the weakness in my bones. Too much has happened. I can barely catch my breath, let alone fight a captor who’s twice my size.
I stop struggling, letting him carry me as if I’m nothing more than a child. But he’s warm, and he smells like the soap I used in his bathing chamber. And there’s something underneath, almost like a toasted bit of sugar, browned but not blackened.
“I had Lenka bring your dinner here.” His deep voice startles me. I didn’t realize I’d nearly dozed off in his arms.
