At a safe distance, I whirled and raced for the exit, shutting the door behind me. With any luck, Speck would remain confined to the dungeon, far away from Alaric and the trogg until I returned. Long enough for me to find Thorne—before it was too late.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
THORNE
When I considered allthe many ways my life might end, being sliced into dragon steaks wasn’t top of the list. And yet here I was, trussed up like a holiday ham, wrapped in an enchanted net. Ropes secured my jaws, preventing me from spewing fire. While the poison in my blood kept me from shifting, it also had made me helpless as a newborn nerf, snuffing out my flame. Still, the hunters took no chances. They’d secured my weakened body to the ground with chains and stakes.
Once they were confident that I was restrained, the band of idiots had made camp for the night. They waited for someone they called The Butcher to chop up their prize. Apparently, I was valuable enough to warrant a skilled processor. Ironically, this wasn’t the first time my pretty face had put me on the chopping block. Nor was it the first time I’d been betrayed.
The difference being that in this instance, it was my own brother who betrayed me. While every muscle in my body ached, it was my heart that felt the pain. After all the years I spent at hisside, catering to his every need and desire, this was the thanks I got.
Worse, I’d left Serafina in his deceitful hands.
Once again, someone I loved would suffer while I was away, unable to save them.
Loved. I choked a laugh, smoke rolling from my nostrils.
Only the threat of death could wring the truth from me.
I was completely, utterly in love with Serafina.
“Something funny, dragon?”
“Your butt-ugly face.” If only the hunters could understand me. It would have made my insults about their whore mothers far more satisfying.
“Ah, leave the dragon alone, Lars.”
“What’s the matter, Slim? You going soft?”
“Just seems unsporting like,” Slim defended. “Pathetic prick isn’t even fighting anymore. It’s like his spirit is broken.”
I’d determined Lars, with the bald head who sported a dragon scale vest, was the leader of this macabre band. While Slim, who was built like the scraggly twigs of a tree, along with a fellow with gold teeth and another who reeked of spoiled cabbage, were his underlings.
“Want to suckle the dragon at your tit, do yah?” Goldie sat on a log beside the fire, pretending to rock a baby. His metallic smile gleamed in the firelight.
“Flark off.” Slim grabbed his sorry excuse for a crotch. “I’ll give you something to suckle.”
It was beyond humiliating that this band of morons had managed to capture me. I grunted a depreciating sound.
“Got something to say, dragon?” Lars slammed his boot into my hindquarters.
“Ease up, Lars,” Slim whined. “You’ll damage the merchandise.”
“Yah, well, I’m tired of waiting for The Butcher to arrive to gut this bastard.” Lars stumbled to his pack and extracted a pairof grippers and a filet knife. “Think I’ll start carving off pieces of his hide right now. See if he still thinks it’s funny.”
He marched toward me, maniacal glint in his eyes, while his partners sputtered their objections. My muscles twitched and twisted, moving mere inches in their restraints. For a bunch of morons, they’d trussed me up good. Flames save me. This was going to hurt.
Then—Lars froze. A strangled groan tore from his throat. He bent double, one hand bracing against my hide, the other clutched over his stomach.
A wet gurgle filled the silence, followed by the foulest sound I’d ever heard from a man’s backside.
“Holy hell, Lars.” Slim gagged, fanning his nose. “Smells like something crawled up you and died.”
Lars staggered, face pale, sweat breaking across his brow. “Watch…the dragon.” He gasped and bolted into the trees.
“What’s gotten into him?” Slim scratched his head, eyeing the greasy bowl of stew he’d finished not long ago.
Goldie doubled over next, clutching his stomach. “What did you put in that stew, Slim?”
