Page 9 of Devoted to the Dragon

“Did you need anything else? I really should get some rest before training,” I say instead of answering.

Henry stops what he’s doing, turning his assessing gaze on me. “This ain’t the underground. The dragon runs a tight house, and the witch has eyes everywhere. No thieving. No fighting. If you need something, ask. If you’re hungry, eat. But stay out of my kitchen unless you plan to take on a second job. And don’t go snooping. The witch’s wards will keep you out anyway.”

I open my mouth to explain that I wasn’t snooping—I totally was snooping—but before I can lie, his eyes flash with his wolf.

“Mind your business, keep your mouth shut, and do your job,” he barks. “If you manage that, I’ll see about finding you a spot somewhere on staff if it isn’t the guard.” He turns back to his food, but for the second time, I simply gawk.He dismisses me with a nod. “Grab that bag there on your way out.”

I take the sack and slip out the way I came. This time, I don’t manage to get caught stupid-eyed as I catalog the dragon’s home. I don’t get far though. Whenever I try to enter any area beyond the courtyard, I come up against an invisible wall.

Resigned, I find my way onto one of the upper landing decks. It’s already afternoon, and the spring sun has made the stone ledge warm. I lean against it and finally let myself look through the bag Henry sent from the kitchen.

It’s stuffed with food. Two sandwiches of thick-ass bread filled with meat and cheese. Fresh apples and oranges. A pastry. Popped corn. It’s more than I’ve eaten in days, and I force myself to eat only the sandwiches and leave the rest for later.

Overhead, a searing cry scares the shit out of me. A shadow passes over the sun, and I look up and up. A real-life, honest-to-gods dragon soars in the sky. I watch, mesmerized, as the dragon turns and completes another loop. It’s hard to see her except when the light hits, then it’s like trying to look at the sun. She’s too beautiful, too full of light to truly comprehend.

For a moment, I’m hit with a burst of excitement before it gives way to a flash of grief.I wish Izzy could have seen this.

I lookaround the stone room. Lights splash in strategic crimson on cages lining the perimeter. The stone walls are lined with various instruments of torture: whips, floggers, and ball gags.

And, ladies and gentlemen, we’ve come to the sex dungeon part of this training.

I fought at a place like this once. Got the best blow job of my life in a bathroom after. I don’t know whether my fantasies or my nightmares are about to come to life, but I can only guess this is part of the training to resist a rut. It doesn’t matter what the fuck it is, it only matters that I make it through.

It’s already past midnight, and my ass is tired. I want to hurry this show along.

Brooks spent the first few hours with us this afternoon assessing our skills in subduing guard members trained to act like ferals. As a ring fighter, that’s my bread and butter. Nothing pays better than going up against the moon-mad. The pretty boys, not so much. They got their asses handed to them more than once.

Sucks to suck.

Next, it was strength training and guided sessions with wolves on specific attack and defense skills. Hours of drills left us weak and exhausted.

I’m pretty sure that’s part of their test. They get our asses worn down, then see how we handle it. My guess is the older wolf who watches but never speaks won’t let anyone near the keys to the castle until we’ve passed whatever tests he cooks up. I would agree that’s smart if my thighs weren’t screaming at me to sit the fuck down.

We haven’t been told shit yet about the property, the club, or the actual duties of the guard—only that we will be training to resist the rut. Alphas don’t even mature into their rut cycle until, like, thirty and all the guards are under that by the looks of it. So how exactly is that gonna work?

The chatter among the recruits is that half of us will go home the first week. That’s why they take on so many more than they need. But after the initial shock of seeing me fight half-shifted instead of as a full wolf, none of the guards or trainers batted an eye. Now that I know it isn’t an automatic out, one of those guard spots is mine.

Around me, the recruits whisper nervously as Brooks steps back and a woman in a colorful, flowing dress steps forward.

“I’m Vandera, and this is the first part of your training to withstand the rut call,” she says. Her voice is melodic, almost trancelike, and I wonder if the renowned witch simply oozes magic. She looks harmless, but the power surrounding her is undeniable.“As guard members, you’ll be expected to spend much of your time in Moon Lake Valley surrounded by rut companions and wolves entering or in full rut. You’ll also be expectednotto join.”

So far, the witch isn’t saying anything that isn’t common knowledge, but a rumble of voices sounds through the group of recruits.

The witch raises her finger, and purple sparks shoot across the room, lighting the candles hanging from giant chandeliers overhead.

My eyes widen at her blatant use of magic. Most villages have a healer who is trained in using herbs and crystals. Few are powerful enough to cast spells, let alone use magic for something so mundane. The display of power has the group of wolves falling silent, all eyes on the woman in the center of the room.

Her sweet voice hides her steely command. “You’ll spend the remainder of the night here. This exercise is to gauge your natural control point. The environment in the dungeon will mimic that of Frenzy, and our trained rut companions will try to entice you as they do patrons of the bar.

“Don’t touch the cages. Don’t engage with any other wolf in the room—neither to fuck nor fight. Permanent guards will monitor and remove wolves deemed unable to withstand the temptation. Those who emerge in the morning will be expected at the training grounds tomorrow afternoon. Good luck, alphas.”

Wolves hurl questions, but she simply turns and takes Brooks's arm. He leans in and kisses her forehead fondly before tucking her under his arm and walking through the guards stationed at the back of the room.

Interesting.

The silent older wolf follows the pair, and the closing of the wooden door is ominous. Behind us, another set of doors opens, and the room fills with the sweet scent of omega perfume as men and women in robes file in and climb into the cages before the guards lock them in.

What the actual fuck?

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