I could tell without needing to look too hard that the noises I had heard the night before had come from this room. Someone, most likely Rhael, had trashed it and then ordered for it to be cleaned by morning. The smell of cleaning supplies invaded my nose, masking whatever it would have smelt like before.
Rhael stood behind the desk, hands clasped behind his back, his posture perfect. He wore his usual long black tunic edged with silver, looking every part of the King.
Cold radiated from him, not the composed indifference of before and certainly not the heat I had convinced myself didn’t exist in Lycanthyr. This was different, dangerous, like a man sitting on the edge of the cliff wondering if he could survive the fall.
“Elara,” he said, his tone flat as his eyes met mine. Nothing flittered in them, no recognition, no emotion at all.
“You sent for me?” I questioned, matching his tone, trying to keep my body still, unyielding.
If he wanted to play a game, I would match him. I had warned him I would be a useless slave the moment he purchased me, just because he did not keep me in chains did not mean that would change. Our dynamic was clearer in this moment, than it had ever been. He was the master, I was his property.
“Yes, sit,” he instructed, gesturing to the chair opposite him. His eyes narrowed when I did not immediately obey.
The command hung in the air between us. Silence stretching thick and tense. He studied a parchment rather than looking at me, as if he expected me to do as I was told in time. His jaw was ticking as he realised I had not moved.
“I will assume this is about the attack last night,” I said, finally breaking my silence as I moved towards the chair, resting my hands on the back, still not sitting.
I was not a dog, he did not give orders for me to pant and obey. I may be a slave, but I did not bow, I never bowed, not to King, not to a noble, not to anyone. If he wanted my compliance he could earn it.
“It is about what comes next,” he admitted, finally sitting in the chair of his own. It was plush with leather cushioning, held between dark wood legs and armrests. When he sat in it, I was reminded of the throne.
The power radiating off him made it clear he was a King regardless of where he was. The crownon his head catching the early morning light. This was his place, and yet I was still wondering how mine would be found or altered until this war was won.
“What is next?” I asked, impatient for the answer. If I had been summoned it meant it involved me, and I was tired of games. That was clear even in my voice, as well as the exasperated sigh that came out afterwards.
“The Dragon King arrives in two days.” Rhael replied coldly, his eyes watching me, as I finally sat in the seat he had offered, trying to make my human form appear bigger, to take up more space in the chair that was much too large for me.
“Pyrhador.” I gasped, my eyes widening as his statement got my full attention.
No one had seen the Dragon King in years. It was rumoured he did not even leave his caves to be amongst those living in his kingdom these days.
“Yes.” Rhael sighed, as if he was tired of my questions, although the darkening of his under eyes made me wonder if he was just tired instead.
“You don't sound pleased,” I say sitting back in the seat, squaring my shoulders as I felt the wood dig into my shoulder blades. If Rhael wanted to be stand offish he would get it back.
It was a bad habit but one I could not break. The harder someone tried to make me compliant, the harder I fought against it.
“I am not,” he said as he scrubbed a hand over his face in frustration.
“Why? You wanted alliances?” I question, leaning forward. Rhael was asource of constant confusion to me, and even though he pushed me away, treated me like I was so insignificant, I could not help but wanting to know more about him.
“Dragon’s trust no one, the Dragon King certainly does not trust me,” Rhael explained, leaning his hands on the desk, clenching them together as if to keep them still.
“Why?” I asked, my hands now lingering on the edge of the dark wood just inches from his.
From this angle I could see everything, the way his hair caught the light making the usually solid black strands seem lighter, woven with multiple colours rather than just black. His skin, tanned from his time outside in the sun, captured the light making him glow.
“That is not your concern,” he snapped, the cold in his tone making me lean back. My eyebrow raised as I tried to evaluate him once more.
“Everything seems to be my concern lately.” I mused, crossing my legs, one above the other, cursing internally at the way the dress caught on the edge of the chair, forcing me to pull at the fabric making the motion so much less dignified than I had wanted.
“Elara,” he warned as if I was a child, and that was the last straw. The anger I had been holding so close to my chest exploding, every pain and ache I had hidden came to the surface.
“You take me to Lycanthyr, parade me around as a lover, or a pet, you use me to get what you want. What you thinkyouare entitled to. So yes, if the Dragon King is a threat I deserve to know why!”I demanded, slamming my hands on the desk, my body threatening to stand as the sound echoed around us.
“You deserve to follow orders!” He sneered, clearly less than impressed with my outburst.
“So, that is it. I am just a piece on that stupid board of yours,” I snapped, whipping my head towards him, my eyes meeting his. Looking for a sign, anything, to show me that the man who had been so different in Lycanthyr was still there. But all I saw was the cold stare of the Fae King looking at me as if I had begun to lose my mind.
