Page 9 of Rescued By The Dragon

The tiny twin-sized bed was made with even corners and a perfectly fluffed pillow. The little mouse looked like someone who kept her things tidy. Walking into the tiny space of her room, which was too small for me, I stepped on a board, and it squeaked beneath me.

Bending down, I hooked my finger into a hole and lifted it. There sat her laptop. Odd that she hid it. Panic surfaced. Maybe I was lusting after a kid.

“Dammit, Dorran,” I mumbled, standing up, I began rifling through her drawers. There had to be something about her age somewhere. “You child molester.”

Finally, I found her high school diploma hiding in a small bookshelf on a wall in her closet.

Amara Marie Tremaine. 2016.

Amara, it fit her. She was twenty-five years old. Sighing, I laughed at myself, but it raised too many more questions for me. Why was a twenty-five-year-old living in an attic, and sneaking out like a teenager?

Biting my lip, I slipped the diploma back into its spot. I could find out the dynamics of her household. Maybe she enjoyed the privacy, but I doubted it. Her mother looked protective.

Or cruel.

There weren’t many personal items like décor in her room. The only thing I saw that seemed aimed toward a hobby was a scaled mannequin that looked like it was on its last leg.

A scream came from downstairs.

“Mother! It’s a ball at the castle! The Dragon Prince is looking for a mate!”

There was more screaming, but I knew it wasn’t her. It wasn’t her voice. Walking toward her window, I slipped out and onto the rooftop, giving her room another glance to make sure I was leaving it as I found it.

Every woman needed to attend the ball, but something told me that it might not happen for her. It was a hunch. I had to make sure she made it.

Stalking toward the bridge, I grew restless; my wings burst from their prison and flew off her roof and toward the front doors of the castle. A few people gasped as I landed in the middle of the steps and ran up them.

The guards opened the doors, letting me inside a busy house. There were designers everywhere getting ready for the ball at the end of the week. Our usual crew of workers darting around the castle.

My father sat in his study, a cigar hanging out of his mouth. I never understood his need for it, but he stayed out of my hair and I would do the same for him.

“Father.”

He half-glanced up from his newspaper. The paper was news from the neighboring kingdom, and he seemed to enjoy their troubles more than he should.

“Son?” he asked casually.

“How will we know that every woman will attend?’

“Because it’s on the invitation.”

“But how do you know everyone will obey?”

He glanced up, swinging his size eighteen feet to the floor. “Why? Do you think people are disobeying our laws, son?”

I needed a legit reason to get him to make an announcement. He’d had everyone do everything for him for so long that anything extra was too big of a workout for him.

“I don’t know. I overheard some dragons saying they weren’t sure they could make it.”

He huffed. “And miss a chance to become A Dragon Queen? Piss on them,” he mumbled, leaning back against his chair.

I inwardly groaned. “I also heard that some dragons were worried about the East Kingdom attending. They think there may be a fight.”

He sat back up, putting out his cigar on the newspaper, and glaring at me with concern. “Well, I’ll put an end to that right this second.”

Dad marched out of his office toward the front steps of the castle. I walked casually behind him, smiling at how easily my father was manipulated.

He swung the castle doors open, his wings spanning wide as he descended the first step and stopped in between the guards. “Attention,” he boomed to the courtyard.

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