Tage is the only reason I’m even alive. The others made it clear what they preferred to do to me back in Isstad. He’s the only one. The only one who spoke up to defend me. And now he’s leaving me in the care of the dragon who wonders how I might taste.
Tage spins around without waiting for Cyphus’s agreement, without looking at me again. Clearly, he’s accustomed to issuing commands and for those commands to be followed. He’s not concerned with Cyphus obeying—or rather, disobeying. He’s not concerned with Cyphus taking less than proper care of me.
He is the alpha.
I, however, don’t share his faith.
Panic rises from my chest, filling my throat, threatening to choke me.
I fight against it, swallow it back down like day-old porridge, and try to look bold and brave and unaffected even if, inside, desperate words flood me.Don’t go. Don’t leave me here.
I push them down, not about to give voice to them. It will only make me look weak, vulnerable.
They know you’re weak and vulnerable. You’re a human. They’re dragons.
I ignore this unwelcome truth. I don’t need that dose of reality right now when I need to feel hope, when I need to believe I have a chance of survival.
And maybe my chance is better now than ever before. With everyone leaving except Cyphus and Arvos still insensible while in his healing sleep, this could be the best time for me to escape. For the first time, I feel a small twinge of regret in my chest at the thought of that. I quickly bat it away.
Tage strides away, leaving me alone with the enemy. A predator in the truest sense.
I watch Tage disappear through the tunnel, my unease increasing with the fading echo of his steps. A plea burns on my lips for him to stay, but I keep the words locked tightly behind my teeth.
Slowly, I turn to find Cyphus staring at me.
Cyphus looks at me with an intensity in his gaze that shoots a shiver down my spine. A smug satisfaction glows in those eyes. And I know. It’s clear to me that Tage’s definition of “take care of her” does not match what’s in Tage’s mind.
I understand at once. I’m in trouble. The same way I knew I was in trouble when I woke up to Cyphus’s hot breath steaming my face.
He treats me to a blistering appraisal, sweeping me up and down. “Get dressed.”
I dress with clumsy fingers, trying to pretend his eyes on me don’t matter, trying to forget the sensation of his tongue on my throat like I was the choicest bit of meat.
He says nothing when I stand before him in Danhy’s garments, the trousers a little too baggy and long, the hem falling well past my ankles. She has curves I could only wish to possess. I always ate enough in Isstad, but my constant treks through the woods and training with the guard kept me lean and wiry, and I had not put on weight since I joined them here despite the ample food.
The blouse billows around me and I resist the urge to gather it and knot it, not wishing to draw attention to the ill fit of her garments on me—or offer even a sliver of bare skin to the one who fantasizes abouteatingme.
“Follow me.” He turns on his heels, and I hesitate only a moment before scurrying through the tunnel after him, stopping to roll the hem of each trouser leg so I don’t trip.
Emerging into the warmer main room with its crackling fire, I blink inside the well-lit space, achingly aware that everyone else is gone. It’s just the two of us here now. Arvos is alone in his den, lost to his healing slumber, sleeping the sleep of the dead.
We are well and truly alone together.
Cyphus leads me across the room. “Sit there.” He points to a spot near the fire.
Even as much as I dislike his tone, I do as he commands, not wishing for a confrontation. I try to hide my discomfort over Tage’s absence but I’m a mess inside. I take a steady sip of air.
They are all dragons. None of them safe. Hopefully his loyalty to his alpha will keep him in check.
“Hands out,” he snaps as he bends over and picks something off the ground out of my line of vision.
“What are—”
“Hold out your hands.” His voice lashes the air.
I obey, sticking out my arms. He produces a pair of thick leather bands. I frown as he binds my wrists, wincing as he gives them a fierce tug, cutting off the blood flow into my hands. He seizes the end of one long strip and yanks me after him like a dog on a leash.
I struggle to get to my feet, but his greater strength is undeniable. He drags my body after him like I’m a sack of potatoes, away from the warmth of the fire, away from the bench with its soft pillows.
