Page 80 of Dragon Unhinged

Pru laughs and stands up. “I’ve got to get back to rounds. Call me if you need any help with Tabitha.”

“Wouldn’t even if I thought you could.” I wink at her as I pick up my purse and stride out into the night, head held high, heels clicking across the tile floor.

The factthat Tabitha’s five-star room has all the amenities it could possibly have doesn’t negate the fact I’ve spelled her into it, or the fact I’ve done everything I can to make sure she can’t use any magic while she’s inside the space.

And every time I see her in there, I feel like shit.

How is locking her in there any better than what happened to Declan and Ewan? What damage am I doing to her, what scars aren’t healing, because of the prison I’ve built? She was under Grey’s thrall. Nothing she did was of her own volition. She doesn’t deserve to be a prisoner again.

“Are you going to come in, or are you just going to linger in the doorway?” Tabitha’s voice filters in from the bedroom, and even though I can’t see her, I’m sure her face is scowling.

With a sigh, I walk in, carrying a bag of supplies I hope will brighten her spirits. Or at least help her feel more like herself again.

The vibrant, sassy witch I once knew well looks like a shell of the same woman, with hollow eyes and not a stitch of makeup on her face. She’s lost a good deal of weight. I don’t think Grey actively made sure she ate while he was ordering her around. Her appetite hasn’t seemed to get back to normal either. She hardly eats when we bring her food three times a day.

“You’ve looked better, Tabitha.” I drop my bag on her bed and sit next to her. “Any chance you’re feeling up to talking yet?”

She rolls her eyes at me. “Any chance you’re feeling up to letting me fucking die?” When I don’t give into her dramatic answer, she inches away from me. “You act like there’s any coming back from this.”

“You can. You just have to be willing to try, Tab.” I reach over and squeeze her hand. “The things you did weren’t your fault.”

She gives me a look of disdain. “I’d love to believe that, but I don’t know any more what ideas were mine, and what came from Grey. I don’t know what spells were mine. I don’t know what Opals I directly killed, or allowed to be killed. I remember every life I took. Whether or not it was under someone else’s control, I fucking remember it.” She shakes her head, her eyes looking like a combination of near tears and bottomless rage. “I can’t stop seeing it. Those spells were cast with my hands, my voice, my fucking magic. People were slain because of me. People were enslaved, tortured, put into fighting pits. Some poor woman is going to have her body ripped apart because Grey wants a dragon baby, but he’s not going to wait around nine months for it to happen. He’s going to keep killing, keep torturing, keep ruining people’s lives. And I fucking helped. So just let me die. Or execute me.” She gets up, running her hands through her hair and revealing a few bald spots. Spots where it looks like she’s pulled her own hair out.

“Oh goddesses, Tabitha.” I don’t know what to say to help her through this. There is nothing. She’s going to have to work through it to get to the other side, if she can.

She sits back down again. “You don’t know what it’s like. I close my eyes, and I see it. I try to stay awake, I keep my eyes open, and the ghosts still don’t leave me alone. Haunted doesn’t begin to describe how I feel, and I’m fucking tired of it, Syrena.”

I get up and pull her into my arms, hugging her tightly. “It won’t be like this forever, Tabitha. We’ll get you through this, and we’ll bring him down. But until we can, I need your help. I need to know what spells you’ve done.” I swallow hard. “And I need to know what you mean by Grey won’t wait nine months for a baby to be born.”

Tabitha pulls back from me, her hollowed eyes sparking with fear, something different than the hatred and disgust for her on existence. “What’s happened?”

“Declan’s unclaimed mate is pregnant, and we think Grey took her,” I say gently.

Tabitha’s eyes fill with tears that don’t spill over until she finally blinks. “He’s really going to do it.”

“What is it that he’s going to do?” I ask, sure I don’t really want to know and knowing whatever it is, it’s going to send Declan spiraling.

Chapter

Thirty-Four

BRIANNA

Dinner, if you can even call it that, is practically torture.

If I thought sitting at a table with my father, getting every move I make, every bite I take scrutinized, it was nothing compared to having Grey sitting there watching me.

Lording over me with his goblet of blood from across the table, sipping from it as he monitors my every move. If I slow down on my eating, or if I don’t drink enough water, he whispers a command, and no matter how hard I try to keep control of my own body, I find myself following it.

I can’t even fight against it. My father tried to control me, but I got to rebel in my own little ways. But now, I can’t even refuse to eat or drink or do anything if he commands, I do it.

But it’s nothing compared to the way Peter keeps looking at me, like I’m a tasty treat he can’t wait to bite into. Like I’m merely a dessert made specifically for him.

I swear, if I had dragon’s talons, I’d rip his throat out and watch him bleed all over the floor. The more violent my thoughts get, the easier it is to endure this torture and disgusting display of power.

I’m feeling full, almost too full.

Grey sets his drink down. “That’s enough.”

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