Page 20 of The Soul of the Dragon

“Can you at least untie my hands?”

“No,” he said simply, removing the pack he carried from his back. “Until I can trust you won't do something stupid like run away or try to kill me in my sleep, you will remain as you are.”

"You're about as much fun as Magnus," I said without thinking.

His head snapped up. "What does that mean? You know Magnus well? What can you tell me about him?"

I liked that I had finally piqued his curiosity about something other than this trek to the falls. "Other than he's a selfish bastard who cares about no one but himself?"

His lips quirked, and that break in his facade went a long way towards giving me a little hope that he might be the lesser of the evils I had to choose from at the moment. Although I sure had no plans to let my guard down.

"I might have gathered that much myself. No, I'd like to know more about him. Who are his parents?"

"I don't know for sure. No one ever talks about it. The only thing I've gathered is that his father is the king's brother, but that they've either been estranged forever or he's dead. No one has ever spoken of him that I know of. But I can tell you that Magnus is probably the closest thing the King has to a son. As far as anyone knows he hasn't been able to produce a child, but that’s definitely not for lack of trying."

"Is that why he wants you? To give him a son?"

My head snapped up at his clear perception of the situation. I nodded. "In a house of royalty, it would seem that the right heir is one of the most important things."

"I could see that. I mean it makes sense. A king has immense power, and he wants to ensure how that power is controlled both while he is here and after he is gone."

"I am not a breeder." He looked like he wanted to disagree, but something kept him quiet on the subject. Thank the Goddess. "I'm not interested in his power either. With my mother gone, all I want is my magic and my own life. I don't think that is too much to ask for." As soon as the words left my mouth, I knew I would regret them.

"Tell me about your magic."

I balked. That wasn’t the inquiry I’d expected. But considering he knew nothing about me it made sense he’d be more interested in my magical abilities than my dead mother.

And yet everything inside me bristled at that notion. Was magic always more important than someone’s life?

I watched him gather some branches and clear an area for a fire before I responded.

Before my vicious stepfather had stolen my magic I could have made a fire for us with a wave of my hand. Now I’d have to rub sticks together and hope I could make it work.

“There’s nothing to tell other than I don’t have it and I don’t know how to get it back.”

“I’m sure that’s an oversimplification. Why don’t you start with telling me why you don’t have it anymore.”

I jerked at his words, barely holding in a snarl.

“How much did my stepfather exactly tell you?”

He sighed, his frustration with my non answer answers apparent.

“Very little actually. However, he did give me access to your rooms, and I have better than excellent hearing.”

My mouth dropped open and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t close it again.

He chuckled a moment before he bent over and blew a small stream of fire on a low growl at the wood he’d gathered and stacked together.

“What the hell?” I finally gasped.

“Dragon fire,” he said, making it sound like she’d been stupid not to realize.

“You’re a dragon?”

He smirked. “You don’t have to pretend to be surprised. I heard your friend warn you about me.”

“I thought she was making that up. And she’s not my friend. I just met her last night."

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