The Dragon's bond

Chapter 9

She’d barely swallowed two bites when another knock came at the door, this one sharp, aggressive. Not the quiet tap of a servant.

“Come in.” Elara hesitantly called.

The door swung open with force as a woman swept into the room as if she owned it.

Elara recognized her immediately. How could she not.

Lyria. The draconian dancer she’d seen leaving Draeven’s chambers just yesterday morning looking thoroughly satisfied and smug.

She was even more striking up close. Tall, voluptuous with copper-colored scales dusting her temples, forearms and the curves of her breasts visible above her low-cut silk gown. Her amber eyes, with vertical slits like a dragon, fixed on Elara with pure venom.

“So,” Lyria said, her voice dripping with contempt as she slammed the door shut. “You’re the filthy little slave everyone’s whispering about.”

Elara stood quickly, instinctively backing away from the hostility radiating from the woman.

“I don’t want any trouble…”

“Trouble?” Lyria laughed, a cruel, cutting sound. “Oh, darling. You ARE trouble. The stupid and insignificant kind.”

She prowled into the room like a predator, her scaled fingers trailing over the furniture possessively.

“Do you have any idea who I am?” she demanded.

“You’re…you’re Lyria, the dancer.”

“I’m Lyria Copperscale, daughter of Lord Copperscale of the East, trained in the most prestigious dance houses in the three kingdoms, and I’ve been warming the Dragon King’s bed for six months now.” Her eyes flashed dangerously. “Six. Months. And then some pathetic kitchen rat shows up and suddenly I’m dismissed like common trash?”

“I didn’t ask for any of this….”

“Oh, spare me the innocent act.” Lyria moved closer, and Elara could smell the exotic perfume on her skin, jasmine and something darker. “you think you’re the first servant girl to spread her legs for advancement?”

“I haven’t spread…. I didn’t…” Elara’s face burned.

“Please. The entire palace knows you left his chambers this morning looking like you’d been thoroughly fucked.” Lyria’s smile was venomous. “though between you and me, he probably didn’t bother removing your clothes, did he? Just hiked up that ugly dress and took what he wanted.”

Tears of humiliation pricked at Elara’s eyes. “That’s not what happened.”

Lyria roughly grabbed Elara’s chin forcing her to meet those terrible amber eyes. “What I care about is you understanding your place. You’re not special. You’re not different. You’re just new. And new never lasts.”

She released Elara with a shove that sent her stumbling backward.

“You see these chambers?” Lyria gestured around the room mockingly. “I had chambers just like them. Silk sheets, expensive dresses, private bathing room. Everything.”

“Well, guess what followed?” “He got bored, really quick.” Lyria’s expression twisted with bitter fury. “That’s what always happens. He gets bored and moves to the next pretty thing that catches his eye. And you….” She looked Elara up and down with undisguised disgust. “You’re not even that pretty. Plain face, skinny as a stick, no curves at all to speak of. Gods know what he sees in you.

She moved to the wardrobe, yanking it open with unnecessary force.

“Would you look at this.” Lyria pulled out one of the expensive gowns, examining it with a sneer. “Emerald silk. I had one just like this. And this…” she grabbed one of the scanty nightgowns from the back. “I wore this exact one three nights ago when he fucked me so hard I couldn’t walk the next morning.”

Elara’s stomach churned.

Lyria tossed the nightgown at her feet like garbage.

“You know what the most pathetic part is? You actually think this means something. You think because he gave you a few dresses and a nice room that you’re important to him. That you matter.”

“I don’t think that…”

“Yes, you do. I can see it in your eyes. That stupid naïve hope.” Lyria’s laugh was cruel. “Let me save you some heartbreak, little mouse. You’re a toy. A new plaything. And just like every other toy, he’ll use you until you break or bore him. And then hell toss you aside and find a new one.”

“She moved closer, backing Elara against the wall.

“Do you want to know what he whispered to me two days ago while I was on my knees with his cock in my mouth? Lyria’s voice was low and vicious. “He said I was perfect. That my mouth was made for pleasuring him. That he’d never felt anything better.

Elara tried to turn her face away but Lyria grabbed her chin again, long nails digging into her skin.

“How does it feel knowing you’re just another notch on his belt? Another forgettable fuck?” her eyes glittered maliciously.

“Let go of me.” Elara whispered.

“Or what? You’ll run crying to the king? Lyria released her with a shove. “Go ahead. See if he cares”

She moved toward the door, then paused, looking back with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes.

“Enjoy it while it lasts, filthy kitchen maid. Enjoy the dresses, soft bed and pretty soaps. Because in a few weeks…maybe a month if you’re lucky….you’ll be back in the kitchens scrubbing pots, and I’ll be back in his bed, by his side, where I belong.”

Then she was gone, slamming the door so hard the windows rattled.

Elara stood frozen as Lyria’s words echoed in her mind. Just another toy. Another forgettable fuck. She sank onto the bed, her entire body shaking.

Was she right? Was this all a game to the king. A temporary amusement until he found someone more interesting?

The pendant grew warmer against her skin, almost burning now. And for the first time since this morning, Elara felt something other than confusion and fear.

Anger.

Anger at Draeven for putting her in this position. Anger at Lyria for her cruelty. Anger at herself for not fighting harder, for letting her body respond to his touch even when her mind screamed to resist. Her hands clenched into fists.

Fine. If he wanted to play games with her, she could play too. If he thought she was just going to lie down and accept being another conquest, he had severely underestimated her.

She pulled out the midnight blue dress that had been laid out for dinner. It was beautiful, expensive. The kind of dress a king’s mistress would wear.

And tonight, she’d wear, it. She’d sit across from him at dinner. She’d let him think he was winning his little game. But she would never give him the satisfaction of breaking her. She refused to be another Lyria, desperately clinging to scraps of his attention.

She’d survive these thirty days and then she’d walk away with her head held high, leaving him behind, just like he’d inevitably leave her.

The pendant flashed hot against her neck. And this time when it pulsed with light she didn’t look away. Whatever this necklace was hiding, she’d figure it out and maybe, just maybe, she’d use it to ensure the Dragon king learned that some prey fought back

The shadow beneath the kitchens

Mistress Calloway’s POV

The mirror in the hidden chamber beneath the kitchens rippled with dark energy and a face appeared in its depths.

Beautiful and terrible, pale skin, black eyes and silver hair that moved like living shadows.

Shadow Queen Malakar.

“Report. The Queen commanded.

Calloway bowed. “The girl is in position, my queen. Moved to the chambers adjacent to the king, exactly as predicted.”

“And the binding?”

“Weakening rapidly. The cracks are visible now.”

“Excellent.” The Queen’s smile was terrifying. “Her emotional state?”

“Confused, frightened. The dancer just paid her a visit, tore her to shreds verbally as expected. She is vulnerable now.”

“Perfect.” Malakar leaned closer to the surface. “Anger makes people reckless. Reckless people make mistakes. And when she makes her first mistake, we’ll be ready.”

“The dragon is obsessed with her. More than I’ve ever seen him fixated on anyone.”

“Even better. An unbonded fated pair.” Her black eyes glittered with malice. “The bond will make them both vulnerable when the time comes. Easier to control.”

“What are your orders?”

“Let nature take its course. Let them fall deeper. Let her powers fully awaken. We want her at her maximum strength when we harvest her.” Her smile widened.

“And the girl?”

“Will die, obviously. One cannot drain a person’s essence and leave them breathing.” “But her death will birth an empire of shadow. A worthy trade.”

The mirror went dark.

Calloway stood alone, a smile playing on her lips.

The foolish girl had no idea she was already dead, she just hadn’t stopped breathing yet.