Page 157 of Under Restless Skies

“Mayara, you have to watch.” Alayel’s voice sounds like an insect crawling up my spine.

“I’m fine,” I mutter.

“But if you don’t watch, she won’t be fine,” he whines.

It’s a threat, and my body stiffens.

I turn and look, my eyes unfocused. The woman’s on all fours across his bed as he enters her from behind—just like me, in our first time.

Her eyes are closed and her lips parted, so it seems that she’s enjoying it, and the act is consensual, so at least there’s that. I don’t know if she’s too drunk to realize that it’s strange that I’m here chained, or if she just doesn’t care.

“Wishing it was you?” he asks.

“She’s beautiful and doing a fine job.”

He grins. “Want to join us?”

“Will you unchain me?” I ask.

“Not yet.”

I shrug. “Then I can’t join you.”

He just laughs, his dark eyes on me.

I keep my face turned to them, even if I’m not really looking. When he finishes, he yells at the young woman, telling her to get up and leave. She catches her clothes and dashes outside, still unbothered, while he collapses on the bed.

I lie down, and sleep eventually comes to me, a troubled sleep with fire, dragons, and someone screaming in desperation. Me, perhaps. Purple eyes watch me. Dragon eyes. My dragon. But he’s too far.

A shiver wakes me, as something disgusting grazes my face. Alayel’s finger.

“Good morning.” His voice is apologetic. “Are you upset?”

I don’t know if it’s some kind of test. “What do you mean?”

He crouches in front of me and looks sorry. “I shouldn’t have brought her here. I was so angry, you know? That you betrayed me. I wanted you to know that I have other lovers.”

“Is that all you do in your spare time?”

He grins. “I know, right. It’s a lot.” He kisses me briefly on the lips, and I need a lot of self-control not to shudder. “It won’t happen again,” he says. “Not in front of you—unless you want it.”

“I’m not upset, Alayel.” Not at that, at least. “But you could remove these chains.”

“I will, obviously.” He caresses the top of my head. “But you need some time, you know? To think about your actions. It’s for your own good.”

He gets up and exits the room again, leaving me here—thirsty and starving. Still chained. And not anywhere close to saving the little dragons.

After a long time, the door opens, and I perk up.

He approaches me and gives me a sorrowful look. “How are you feeling?”

Too thirsty to be proud. “I need water,” I say. “Please.”

“Oh, of course.” He blinks slowly, his voice sweet, so sweet that it makes me anxious. “Why didn’t you say so before?”

He gets up and takes a bottle from his counter, then pours a drop on his booted foot. “Lick it.”

I should refuse it, but I’m too thirsty, so I kneel and lick the liquid covering the leather of his boots.