Page 90 of The Dawn of the Cursed Queen

Samkiel reached for me, but I shoved his hand away. “Dianna . . .” he said as I moved past him.

“You’re in trouble,” I heard Orym say, a hint of humor in his voice.

“Yes.” Samkiel sighed, watching me leave the small cafeteria. “I am in trouble.”

I COMPLAINED ABOUT A STOMACHACHE TO ONE OF THE GUARDS. It wasn’t a complete lie. That damn fruit upset me. He walked me toward the lower level where the cells were located. We reached a dark hallway that I knew was rarely used. My hand reached out, catching him by the throat, my grip hard enough that he couldn’t call for help. I dragged him toward the dark corner, out of sight of anyone walking by.

His eyes widened as the shell of the man I wore melted away to reveal my true form. I rose in height, dark hair spilling down my shoulders. “Don’t panic. Everything is fine.”

His jaw grew slack as he blinked.

“Good boy. Also, I wasn’t lying,” I whispered. “My stomach does hurt. I can’t keep anything down, and I’ve already eaten all the wildcats you had here. I need something more.”

My fangs emerged, and I tipped my head back before striking. I bit deep into his throat, warm, smooth blood filling my mouth. My eyes rolled back, and I almost moaned. This was what I needed, what I craved. I felt his heart slow and realized I couldn’t leave a dead guard here. I forced myself off him, slicing my thumb and healing his throat. He looked at me, woozy and dazed.

“Go lay down. Tell your little friends you’re just tired and need a break, okay?”

He nodded.

“And you never saw me. Good?”

“I never saw you.”

“That’s right, cupcake.” I patted him on his back and watched him leave before wiping the blood from my chin and licking it from my finger.

I changed forms again, assuming the small rodent creature with large ears and a tufted tail. I scurried down the stairs, jumping down each step and continuing past the level with the cells.

The stairs ended, opening up into a dark and oppressive damp room. Water trickled in from the cracked walls, leaving puddles on the uneven floor. I didn’t hear a heartbeat or breathing and wondered if Orym had gotten it wrong. Or maybe whoever they sent down here was already dead.

“You smell . . .” a voice echoed from my right, “old.”

My ears perked up, and I turned. A giant rock leaned against the wall, and now I knew why I hadn’t seen any cells. They had barricaded him in. I shifted back to my natural form and placed my hand on the jagged, circular rock. I shoved it aside and immediately wished I hadn’t. The stench of death filled the air, and when I stepped in, I saw why. Rotting corpses hung against the wall, but luckily, it was the living one at the center that spoke to me.

I pressed my hand against my nose and took another step forward, my gaze remaining focused on the hanging body. He seemed smaller than my dreams, more sleek. His skin was pale, making the red rings around his arms stand out starkly. They looked like some type of tattoos.

He lay against the wall, his arms suspended above his head and pulled tight, wrapped in chains that cut into his muscles. He smiled a toothy grin, the dried blood on his face cracking. I swallowed and stepped closer, just now noticing the pointed ears. They were like Orym’s. Only this creature had a tuft of hair that looked softer than feathers at its tips. When I stepped closer, I saw his one good eye was a swirling white shot through with blue. They were not orange. My heart settled, and I blew out a breath.

“I knew it was an Ig’Morruthen that landed that night. No thunder sounds that deadly,” he said, and I wondered if his fangs were sharper than mine. “You’re a fool if you think they don’t know it, too. That she won’t know what’s being held at her prison.”

“What do you mean?”

“Why would an Ig’Morruthen come to a prison buried in the Death Mountains if not to collect something?”

“What do you know?”

His smile was pure feline. “I know a lot. But what do I get if I tell you? Everything has a price.”

I didn’t feel the air stir behind me, but his overwhelming presence caressed my every nerve.

“I told you to stay away from him,” Samkiel said, stepping in front of me, his arms folded across his chest.

“Ah,” Savees said. “You are not with The Eye at all, are you?”

Samkiel said nothing.

“Is he what you came to claim, dark one?” Savees asked.

“Something like that,” I replied. “Now I’ll ask you again, and this time you will tell me what you know, or I will open your belly.” I raised my hand, extending my talons slowly. “With my claws.”

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