Page 11 of Brutal Dragon King

I have no such luxury; it was the only one I could afford when luxuries in The Emberlands were few and far between for an outcast like me.

Then why do they appear smug right now?

Something flickers inside me, a little spark that’s left when everything in me has metaphorically died. It gives me a tiny flicker of courage to lift my eyes to the back of the open-air hall where Delores is snickering with a fellow villager behind a cupped hand.

She looks up and meets my eyes, a smug smirk curling her lips. That’s when the realization hits me like a freight train coming full speed into my gut.

It’s no coincidence that I was chosen. as the dragon king’s breeding sleeve. Not when the villager beside Delores is none other than the witch, Holga.

This is the favor Delores exchanged for the dress in place of money…

Shaking my head slowly in disbelief, my internal grievances are cut short when the reaping ceremony is concluded, and the two dragon soldiers who cuff my arms begin dragging me off the platform.

I can’t believe how wrong I was to think that Delores might have been plotting my murder. As I pass the safe candidates of this year’s reaping for a breeding slave, I hear their whispers about how grateful they are to the local dressmaker for finally getting rid of me.

This is much worse than murder. Delores could have plotted my death, and it would have been understandable. If their hatred culminated in my death, it would have been a small blow compared to this.

For the first time in my life, I’m afraid. Really scared of what this all means for me. Something cracks inside me, my usually numb and unbothered spirit breaking like shattering glass. With each step that I’m forced to take as a walk of shame out of the land and into the gloomy garden where Delores and other spectators are gathered, more of my spirit is wrecked until there’s nothing left inside me.

I thought I was fearless until this moment. Who knew I would be lucky enough to be cursed this way?

Except, it is no coincidence. I know Delores and the witch are behind this, and probably did some magick to ensure that my token was the one chosen in tonight’s draw. The sinking feeling that my mother’s old friend would do something so horrendous to me is validated when I pass Delores in the gardens.

“We did it,” Delores smirks at her friend, the witch. “The curse has been lifted off the village at last.”

As if to drive in her point, Delores slowly turns to me, her eyes twinkling with a prideful glint of humor. She lifts a hand and wiggles her fingers in the air as if to wave goodbye.

“Good riddance to bad rubbish,” she sneers, compelling me to turn my face away in shame and disbelief, hanging it as the soldiers stop with their hands firmly gripping my arms. ‘

The royal secretary comes over and addresses the two guards while the other soldiers gather around, forming a circle around us that only feels like protection because it shields me from the cynical stares of the villagers.

“Take the child-bearer directly to the palace,” the secretary instructs the guards. “His Majesty has made it clear that he will not be undertaking another reaping draw. It doesn’t matter if this one resists. Use force if you must, but do not kill her.”

I look up covertly through the shield of my lashes, stifling the urge to frown. In the past, when a chosen breeding slave resisted, she was killed, and another round of the draw was undertaken to pick another child-bearer.

A flicker of hope sparks where I thought I’d lost all hope. Even when the secretary scoffs at me and snaps her head around before sauntering forward, I know there’s one advantage I have over the past chosen ones.

No matter how much I fight, the king won’t want another reaping. Icanfight, and the king’s men are not allowed to kill me.

Up until this point, I’ve always remained quiet. I’ve always stayed out of trouble, not fighting for my rights and accepting that I was an outcast in The Emberlands. I accepted defeat, only because I chose peace as my priority.

But look where it’s gotten me.

No more.

I will not stay quiet. My whole life was flipped upside down, and I only had myself to rely on. I’ve never had anyone to look out for me, and I never did need anyone.

The idea that comes to my mind forms a smirk on my lips. All hope isn’t lost. I will not go down easily. I will make the dragon king’s life a misery, even if it gets me killed. Which isn’t a danger anymore, since he probably needs an heir to the throne as soon as possible.’

If he thought this was going to be easy, he thought wrong. I will not go down without a fight. At least, for now, they won’t kill me.

Chapter 4 - Haidën

Frustrated with myself, I curl my hands into fists on the armrests of my throne, the weight of my crown feeling awfully heavy. So much so, that I annoyedly pulled it off and flung it onto the pedestal beside me, an exasperated sigh falling from my lips.

“What’s taking them so long?” I mull under my breath, too impatient to sit idly by on the throne that suddenly feels like it’s closing in on me.

I have to get up as if my life depended on it, the need for fresh air too strong to keep me confined to the throne room. Sliding the door leading to the balcony, it stops with a loud thud that rings like thunder to announce my arrival on the balcony. Once out, I lug in a deep breath of cool, cloudy air that does little to quell my fiery frustrations.

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