Page 63 of Crown and Dragon

Even wounded, you remain the most powerful dragon in the world, my friend.

Correct.

Marius wanted to grin, but his heart ached too much for Tahlia, for the chance to eviscerate Durniad for daring to set a finger on her.

“A ballista? You mean a large crossbow-type weapon?” the queen asked.

“Aye, my queen.”

Grimacing in Arkyn’s direction, she sucked air through her teeth. “Hope you’re ready for this, pal,” she said to the black dragon.

Arkyn huffed and raised his head high as if insulted she would even ask. She rolled her eyes and rubbed the smooth scales under his chin.

“All right, I think we are good to move on,” she said.

Marius’s frustration and anxiety over Tahlia eased somewhat as they flew, fully invisible to all, toward Midhampton’s walls. The heat of Ragewing’s body and the familiar feel of riding the wind calmed and cleared Marius’s head. Even though they were invisible, Marius could see the others as usual.

A fog rolled in from the direction of the ocean. The blanket of ghostly white reached them, blocking Queen Revna and Arkyn from view.

Don’t worry,Ragewing said.I have their scent. We remain within the boundary.

The city appeared out of the night’s fog like a beast waiting to spring. Not one, but three ballistae stood on the walls, bolts loaded into place and three men at each one. The weapon in the middle swiveled suddenly, turning so that it pointed over the city itself instead of at the forest.

They would have to watch for them from every aerial direction.

We’re coming, Tahlia.Marius wished for the hundredth time that he could communicate with his mate the same way he could with Ragewing.Hold on, little salty.

Chapter 31

Tahlia

Tahlia followed Durniad into his bedchamber. A massive bed with curtains occupied the far wall. A table stood to the left of the door, wine pitcher and goblets readied for them. Woven in yellows and blues, a circular carpet covered the wide floor planks. Beside the bed, three windows looked out on the courtyard. A downspout ran along the left side of the window that hung closest to the large bed.

The guards shut the bedchamber door, leaving Tahlia alone with Durniad. Yet another mistake on their part. The first error they’d made was allowing her to take a quiet moment in the feasting hall before the guests arrived after the ceremony. She’d stashed a nice little eating knife between her breasts.

Durniad faced the tray sitting on the side table. “Would you like a glass of wine, my bride?”

“So many glasses.” Tahlia removed the elaborate veil Durniad’s assigned handmaidens had braided into her hair. Tossing it onto the floor, she drew Durniad’s attention away from her, then she pulled out the knife. Keeping her hand against her side—the side facing away from Durniad—she held the weapon flush against her wrist with the hilt in the palm of her hand.

Durniad turned and handed her some wine. She took it and drank it down in one go. The burn was lovely. He finished his, his gaze roaming about her face and body, then set both their glasses back on the tray.

“Do not fight me, Alanna.”

“That isn’t my name.”

“I have decided it is.” His tone was brusque. He appeared to have mastered his impatience since their earlier spat, but the pulsing vein on the side of his forehead said his calm wouldn’t last. “This is all very simple. Do as I say, and you’ll live as a queen. I will treat you with care and appreciation.”

“As long as I go by the name you prefer,” she said. If she could get him to rush her, his weight alone would help her pierce his chest or throat.

He sniffed and studied her face like he was trying to read her intentions. “And do exactly as I instruct. I won’t bother you often. I am a busy man.”

“Busy claiming titles and tyranting along the coastline?”

His eyes narrowed, and that vein grew even more pronounced. “I don’t believetyrantingis a word.”

“If you get to make up names, I get to make up verbs.”

“Kiss me, my bride. Kiss me, and let your new life begin. Or you can try to stab me with that little knife of yours and die trying.”