“Isn’t it a little soon to be maneuvering me anywhere?” I challenge.
She smiles up at me. “They move fast, Your Highness. Even if they doubt you or your story, I guarantee they’ve already met with the king and his advisors and plotted a way to use this development to their advantage. This is what they do. They’re probably ten steps ahead of you already.”
“Only ten?” I quip, but it falls flat.
“With all due respect, this isn’t The Scorch. This isFour Tiers, and you need to catch up. If they think Aeson Noctis is the key to keeping you in line, you’re in bigger trouble than you even realize. That drake is as cunning as he is vicious. If they’ve already got you nesting in his rookery, he’ll have your wings clipped and your belly full of Noctis spawn before you know what’s happening. They’re trapping you, Your Highness, not playing nice, no matter what they say or how it looks.”
Moths flutter through my veins, and the truth of her words clocks me right in the kisser.
“Shit,” I grumble, knowing she’s right.
I spent the last few days resting and recovering. It was nice not to be interrupted by anything except food. It felt considerate and respectful. I’m realizing now, however, that’s not what it was at all. Of course The Horde didn’t care that I was sleeping the days away; it gave them the perfect opportunity to outfox me.
I should have seen that coming, but the Noctis brothers didn’t behave like I expected. To say that it threw me off is an understatement, which I’m sure was by design. Fenox is right, I need to wake the fuck up, because the last thing I need is some controlling dragon thinking he owns me.
“Technically he can’t clip wings I don’t have,” I point out. “Or fill my belly with Noctis spawn.”
“Unless they know how to reverse the curse,” Nixy counters.
“That is what I’m here to find out. I just don’t know where to start looking.”
“Start with Aeson Noctis,” Nixy proffers with a wag of her eyebrows and a wide grin. “If he wants to use you, use him right back. Males spill their souls when they’re spilling their seed. Pretend like you’re falling for the trap. Flirt with him, fuck him even, and then pump him for information.”
I laugh at the suggestion, but she does make a good point. As much as I’d like to never see another Noctis again, it’s not like bedding one would be some insurmountable hardship. Especially if it was the commander.
Interest and curiosity diffuse through me, but I snub the sensations and focus on the plan that’s starting to coalesce with Nixy’s words.
“I don’t have to stop with Aeson either,” I muse out loud.
“Meaning what?” she asks, handing me two different tops from a rack.
“Just that Lorn could be valuable too. Aside from hunting the sorcai that cursed us, I also need to draw out the dragons that turned on my father. Orbiting both the scions is a good way to do that.”
Nixy’s smile grows salacious, but she shakes her head. “Dragons don’t share, you know that. They’ll rip you in two just for suggesting it.”
I nod my head in agreement and study the flowy shirts she handed me. “I’m not actually trying to bag both, I’m just talking about leaving my options open until I know which one is more useful.”
“That’s a dangerous game, Your Highness, not to mention almost impossible to pull off. Their Wings talk; it won’t take long for them to catch on,” Nixy objects.
“Everything about this is dangerous,” I remind her. “If I’m smart about it and careful, I could figure it out.”
She shakes her head, not satisfied with that argument.
“If you’ve got a better plan, I’m all ears,” I challenge, handing the tops back to Nixy, or maybe they’re skirts, I can’t really tell.
She looks down at them thoughtfully and then sighs. “No, but just remember you’re dealing with dragons here. It doesn’t take much for them to get possessive. You need to tread carefully.”
She hangs the two items up and moves down to another clothing stand.
“How can I be a dragon and need a crash course in dragons? You don’t have a manual lying around or anything, do you?” I ask, and Nixy laughs.
“I can give you a rundown of all the court gossip and who’s wearing what for the upcoming Liberation Day celebrations, but my inside knowledge stops there.”
“Fuck the fae, I forgot about the Blood Rite,” I groan.
The ceremony doesn’t mean much to the survivors in The Scorch. For us, it does nothing more than mark the passage of time. No one knows we exist, and therefore we get to skip the required annual trek to Paragon City where the leaders of the Arcane and humans alike swear fealty to King Noctis and The Dragon Horde.
But in just over seven weeks, every Arcane Head of State, Alpha, Coven Leader, Chief, Premier,andtheir entourages will be arriving for the Blood Rite. Not to mention all of The Horde nobles. The blood magic involved is sacred and important, but the two-week long celebration is a whole lot of pomp and circumstance that mostly serves as a good excuse to drink too much, party too hard, and fuck as many Arcs as your orifices can handle.
