Yes. But she still had to know what he was thinking. Why he’d chosen such a repugnant thing for her payment. “Are you going to sell me?”
Dash heard the underlying panic in her tone. If he were as sadistic as his father had been, he’d draw this out and make her sweat her poor decision. It might actually be good for her and keep her from being so hasty in the future.
But lucky for her, he didn’t enjoy seeing others suffer. He’d had his fill of that when he’d been a colt. “That’s been outlawed.”
“True, but some still practice it, anyway.”
“And they are gutted by the High King when he finds them. He has no tolerance for such savagery.”
“Doesn’t mean they won’t risk it. For all I know, you could be one of them.”
She was right, and he had no patience with those bastards, either. He took a lot of pleasure in seeing them caught and gutted. “Rest your mind, Dragon. I’m not a slaver or trader of flesh. I’d never do such a thing to anyone. Not even my enemies.”
The dragon instantly relaxed. “Good. And you should know that I won’t be your plaything.”
He scoffed at where her mind had gone to next. Though it was probably a fair concern for her, given her beauty and form. “Trust me, Dragon. I’ve no shortage of offers when it comes to lovers wanting a place in my bed.”
That made her instantly go stiff again. “Well, you don’t have to be so nasty about it. I’m not a pox-ridden nag.”
Wow... the ire in her tone was incredible as was the unconscious kick she’d given his ribs. “Now you’re offended that I don’t want you in my bed? Should I make a score card so that I can keep up with your mood swings?”
She shifted on his back in such a way that he suspected she might actually be making a face at him. It was very much something his sister would have done whenever he displeased her. Which was quite a lot.
Renata was one of only a tiny few in his life who had the temerity to stand up to him after he’d gutted his powerful father in a fit of rage.
Mostly because everyone had assumed his father was immortal and invincible.
And he had been... until the day he wasn’t.
Bully bastard.
No one had ever believed that someone could kill his father. Especially his father. Too used to shoving everyone around as if they were rag dolls, the last thing Cratus the Conqueror had expected was for his bastard son to return home with a vengeance.
And a vicious craving that had demanded blood appeasement.
It’d been a welcomed bonus that by killing his father, he’d quelled everyone else in the process.
To this day, Dash regretted nothing about his homecoming. Especially the bloodshed.
The dragon cleared her throat. “You still haven’t answered my question, Unicorn. What are you going to do with me?”
“I don’t quite know.”
“That’s not comforting,” she said wistfully.
“Neither is life. Sooner you accept that, you’re doing better than most.”
She scoffed. “Trust me, Dash. I learned that a long, long time ago.”
Something in her voice resonated with him. A kindred soul who’d been kicked enough to know that life wasn’t the prized cherry bowl bards had promised them in their nursery rhymes. It was hard and it was brutal. More times than not, it sought to bring everyone to their knees and laughed in their faces while it kicked them in their tenderest places.
He hated that she knew that pain.
“If it makes you feel better, Dragon, I promise I won’t make you do anything too grisly. No dungeon dwelling. Or maiden eating. Perhaps I’ll find a nice treasure for you to guard.”
She smacked her lips as if he’d struck a nerve with her. “That’s a stereotype, you know. Like saying unicorns kidnap maidens.”
“Who says we don’t?”
