Chapter 1
Saige
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“That’s a lot of dicks.”
“So many dicks,” Kinsley agrees, nodding sagely. His fiery hair falls into his face with the motion as he sits on the edge of the bed beside me. “But he was being one, so he’ll feel right at home.”
He angles his phone, careful not to touch me like I might infect him. It hurts, but seeing as the rest of dragon-kind tends to lean towards slaughtering or experimenting on humans, beggars can’t be choosers.
I watch the video again, showing some poor bastard’s house completely covered in a combination of suction cup dildos super glued to the exterior, and the rest painted on. A rainbow of dicks in all shapes and sizes, like a thirteen year old boy went nuts on the place.
He pockets his phone before heading over to his dresser and grabbing something, toying with it and quickly becoming engrossed in his new project. Anything to distract him from the fact that they’re harboring a fugitive, to keep him out of the house and busy.
“That looks like a terrible idea,” I warn him, but a small smile still tugs at my lips.
God, how much can change in an instant. I’ve gone from barely surviving in the pits of Hell to...well...this.
But as I’m painfully aware, all good things come to an end; I was just stupid enough to try and forget that fact for a brief while. It’s been so goddamn long since I didn’t have to just pray I survived the day, that I could actually allow myself to enjoy something without fear of it being used against me, that I selfishly don’t want it to come to an end. I don’t want my little bubble of peace to burst, but I always knew this was temporary.
The Veles brothers only discovered the lab hidden within the mountain when they were searching for their sister, stumbling across me on their way out. If fate hadn’t aligned that timing so perfectly, I’d never have escaped.
What men their family hadn’t managed to kill were abandoning ship, dragging some of the women with them; human experiments that they’d invested so much time and money into, searching for a solution to the dragons’ dwindling population problem. Knowing I’d never have a chance again, that they’d double down on security wherever they moved us to, I tried to make a run for it, only making it through a few tunnels before one of the men caught up and busted my leg.
Then Kaiden was suddenly there, an avenging angel beating the bastard’s face in, adding a fresh spray of blood spatter over what was already drying on his face. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that they were related to Ezra, no matter how briefly I’d seen her in that place. That bright hair coupled with striking emerald eyes were just too similar not to instantly recognize. So when Kahl hauled me off of the ground and I caught sight of one of Ezra’s mates, the only dragon thus far that had actually tried to help me, I burst into tears for the first time in years.
I’d forced myself into a detached state of numb acceptance to survive everything they did to me in that place and honestly thought I’d lost the ability to cry. But now that I’m reminded yet again that I’m nothing more than an injured animal the triplets decided to nurse back to health and now needs to be released back into the wild, the impulse is nearly overwhelming. I have to clear my throat a couple of times to mask it from Kinsley, taking a long pull from the water bottle beside me.
“No, it sounds like an awesome idea,” he retorts, oblivious to my internal backslide down memory lane as he rejoins me on the bed, slightly closer than before. “Here, hold this down while I lock it into place.” He looks at me earnestly, his piercing green eyes slightly concealed by a stray lock of bright red hair. “Donotlet go. I don’t want it to explode on us.”
That should be way more alarming than it actually is, but seeing the sort of things the triplets get into during their downtime, I’m not even surprised anymore. It’s a small metal box, easily held in one of his palms, but I press both of my hands on the lid firmly, one on top of the other. The most innocuous things can be deadly, and Kinsley adores hiding things in plain sight.
“So who’s next on your shit list?” I tease, my voice still a bit scratchy. After nearly seven years of barely speaking, these last six weeks have been a rough adjustment.
Three years; I only managed to hide from the dragons for three years. How am I going to avoid them now that they’re everywhere if I couldn’t manage it before?
There are so many less humans than there used to be, the last decade driving us to the point of near extinction; slaughtered by the dragons in retaliation for the actions of an idiotic idealist group. They gained a global following in the shadows, striking out in an attempt to take out all of the female dragons to cripple their race.
Surprise, surprise, they were fucking pissed. Add in the claws and teeth, and it’s no surprise our numbers were decimated. The monsters were benevolent enough to coexist, but just as happily reminded us of our place on the food chain when we spit on their kindness.
“Old grudge I just hadn’t had the time to catch up with until now,” he replies absentmindedly, adjusting a few things on the side with a screwdriver.
“Sorry,” I mumble, feeling guilty.
His head whips up and his eyes widen in shock. He nearly drops the thing, but I snatch it out of the air before it crashes to the ground, heart pounding. I’m half hanging off of the bed, bracing myself with my free hand to keep from tumbling onto the floor. Cursing, he apologizes profusely and gently helps me back up, touching me as little as humanly possible before removing his hands just as quickly, like I burned him.
“You don’t have a damn thing to apologize for, Saige,” he hisses through clenched teeth. “If it wasn’t for you, our sister would have died in those cells. The least we can do is take care of you while you heal.”
Internally I groan, knowing exactly where I stand in their eyes, but stupid enough to wish it was different. They feel obligated to pay a debt, and I’m just trying to be as little of a burden as possible until they decide the cosmic scales are balanced enough to wash their hands of me.
I start tapping my finger against my thigh in an even rhythm, and I doubt I’ll ever be rid of the habit. In a dungeon without the ability to tell one day from the next, I was forced to adapt. It was the only way to make sense of guard rotations, schedules; how much time I had to breathe before they came back to drag me away and strap me down to...
Tap, tap, tap.
Kinsley’s hand tentatively covers my own, stilling my finger and looking at me with pity I don’t want. In a world filled with predators, I’m the prey. Yet I’ll be damned if I just roll over and bare my throat; I’ll adapt however I must to survive. Quiet and meek doesn’t equate to weakness, it means they’ll underestimate you. So when you finally have the chance to strike, they’ll never see it coming. Living in this hellish world is a marathon, not a sprint, and I intend to be here for the long haul.
“So, that grudge?” I prompt, changing the topic so that he can quit staring at me like that.
