“No,” he interjected. “My father hid and recorded the encounter. Just as I hid and recorded my father’s. You stood there, bored, as both men screamed.”
My stomach dropped. I couldn’t have missed an audience. There was no way.
“It’s just you and me, majesty,” he finished, sneering the title. “I would never subject a son of mine to a world where monsters like you roam.”
Ouch. I couldn’t even refute him. “Do you think I didn’t have to harden my heart for every encounter? But not even that spared me from centuries of torment.”
“Save your lies. I’m uninterested in hearing them. Today,youwill scream forme.” With that, Taron explodedinto action. He tossed a dagger in my direction. A dagger I hadn’t known he possessed.
Astonished by his speed and stealth, I didn’t react quickly enough. The blade cut through my shoulder, missing my heart only because I twisted at the last second.
A lance of searing pain wrenched a ragged cry from my lips. Multiple muscles seized, freezing up and refusing to work. In that moment, I could only stand there, observing in shock and horror as he withdrew an iron key from his pocket and unlatched the chains.
His grin returned. “I decided to even the playing field by lacing the blade with skyrend.” The chains fell from his wrists, landing on the ground with a final, ominous clink.
I stiffened. Skyrend, a rare toxin known to temporarily chill a dragon’s fire, the very essence of our strength. Not fatal, but awful.
“You aren’t a mere treasure hunter,” I spat at him. “Not in the traditional sense.”
“Correct. I seek only items I can use to harm beings like you.” He shrugged off his coat, revealing an arsenal of blades strapped all over his body. Weapons I recognized from drawings and books. Things dangerous to my kind.
A chill licked down my spine. Where had he gotten them? How? These armaments belonged solely in the berserker realms, hidden from human eyes.
“I will enjoy teaching you the meaning of pain before I kill you,” he said oh, so calmly, sliding a short sword from its scabbard. “You will learn the agony you inflicted upon a young boy forced to watch as his loved ones burned to death.”
Heart thudding against my ribs, I fought for freedom with everything in me. High-octane hatred seethed beneath the surface of his skin as he approached, unhurriedand unafraid. This wasn’t happening. I hadn’t survived the loss of my mother and Leopold, a war with my father, and countless challenges from dragon warriors intent on stealing my throne to die at the hands of a Locke.
“Meeting me was their choice,” I reminded him. “They used the chains to summon me, just as you did.”
He wasn’t swayed. “We’re mortals. You’re a dragon. Supposedly the most fierce-willed creature in existence. You should’ve been strong enough to refuse us.”
A claim I couldn’t deny. Guilt punched me.
“My father called you an angel.” Holding my gaze, he stopped only a few feet away. “To me, you are a monster, and the worlds will be better when you’re dead.” He casually lifted the weapons. “Any last words, Your Majesty?”
“Ja.” I narrowed my lids, hiding the infinitesimal movements of my limbs as they unlocked, preparing for war. “What happens next is on you.”
He simply smiled. Then he struck, a swift swing of his sword.
I grabbed the blade with my bare hand, uncaring when the sharp metal hit bone, and threw my body against his, sending him stumbling back. But not before I pocketed two daggers from his arsenal.
His eyes widened as we faced off. “You’re stronger than I expected.”
“Always,” I rasped, blood trickling from my wound. “But compliments won’t save your life.” I couldn’t allow him to walk away from this. To endanger my people at such a volatile time. A true shame. On the plus side, he had no brothers or sons, and his death would end my curse at last.
Then. That moment. It was as if a locked door barring hope creaked open. Freedom beckoned.
Now his lids narrowed. “You’re right. Compliments won’t save me…but my skill will.”
All challenge and defiance, he freed a second sword and motioned me closer. “Come, majesty. Give me your best.”
“Wish granted.” I wasted no time, launching at him.
Steel met steel, sparks stinging the air between us. Taron was fast, astoundingly so, moving, blocking and striking with a hard-won mastery usually only seen in my fellow berserkers. But he’d asked for my best. Pity for him, I obliged.
“From everything I’ve read,” he told me without slowing his strikes, “your skill on the battlefield is unmatched.”
“If anything, the tales underpromise the horrors I’m capable of.” Perhaps I was more like Adelaide than I’d realized. Block. Parry. Twist and duck. Strike. Ja! My blade cut through his thigh.
