Page 71 of Her Tortured Beasts

“Chef’s hats!” he says with excitement. “Everyone gets one!”

He then proceeds to hand one out to his grandmother, then his mother and Delilah. Xander’s niece looks from her hat to me. “We only have four,” she says quietly. “For today, you can have mine.” Shyly, she hands it to me.

The backs of my eyes prickle again and I have to swallow before I say, “I can’t take yours, Delilah.”

She pouts a little before unfolding it and gently putting it on my head. I have to bend down to oblige her, but she gets it on and tugs it into place. “Uncle Xander says sharing is animportant thing for a little dragon to learn. Otherwise, when we get older, we might become too possessive.”

I feel Selena observing me. Her eyes flick down to the band of etched gold on my throat, but I pretend not to notice.

“Well, that’s kind of you,” I say, trying not to sound bitter about her uncle not following his own advice. “Thank you.”

Selena and Lady Drakos take great care to include me in their family baking. Emmerson ends up with self-raising flour all over his face, after which time we have to refer to him as ‘the ghost dragon’ or he won’t listen to instructions.

“Will the ghost dragon now roll the dough?” Selena asks formally. “Delilah, you can only eat one raw. No more or you’ll get a tummy ache.”

“Grandma said sally-mona is only for humans,” Delilah says, popping an entire raw dough ball into her mouth. “I’m not human.”

Eugene lets out an indignant squawk. “Eugene is correct,” I say. “There was nosalmonellain those eggs anyway.”

Emmerson stops licking the wooden spoon. “You can tell?”

“Avians can tell bad eggs from good ones.”

“So handy,” Selena murmurs, peering into the oven.

Before long, the air smells like fresh baked bread, melted cheese, and crispy bacon. Combined with the joyous laughter of the children and the fact that every time Delilah is embarrassed by something, she hides her face in my side, I am, objectively, in heaven.

For the first time since I arrived here, I manage to forget the pain of the skin melded to the metal around my neck. I forget I’m a captive animal.

“Your hatchlings are a delight,” I murmur to Selena as I dry the wet dish Emmerson carefully hands to me.

“They are a blessing.” She smiles wistfully before she turns serious. “They came into the world under the worst circumstances.” She swallows. “But we prevailed.”

I blink at this unexpected revelation. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know. I’m glad everything is better now.” A small frown appears between her fine brows. She opens her mouth to say something but clearly decides against it.

“It’s close to twelve,” Lady Drakos says, running a knife around the edge of the pan with the cheese and bacon loaf. “We’d better start plating up for lunch. Aurelia, darling, will you pass me my health potion from the cupboard there?”

My heart squeezes at her term of endearment. “Of course.”

“And would you be so kind as to pour a glass of orange juice for me?”

“It would be my pleasure, Lady Drakos.”

She beams at me and I feel as if the sun has come out from between the clouds.

I turn around, head to the small cupboard, and open it to find it stocked with rows of familiar emerald glass bottles, long-necked with a round body. They all bear a black label withLady Drakosand nothing else. Taking one out, I carefully place it on the bench and allow my power to investigate it. Giving myself more time, I move slowly, heading next to the drawer with glassware, then the large, industrial steel fridge further away.

Avian healers typically don’t prepare potions. Our domain is healing the body directly, and that was the way I was taught when I trained after high school.

Potions and tonics are the domain of hyena witches.

The mixture is a cloudy one, and I can tell it’s been lightly strained for final preparation. Tiny herbs float around the brown liquid, forming a slight sediment. But there are more than mere herbs in there. It has the suppressing feel of a sedative, but notof the sleeping variety. Frowning, I take my time as I unstopper the cork and pour some into the glass of orange juice.

Turning around, I present it to Lady Drakos, who smiles as she accepts the glass. There is a look in her eye. Some glint that I barely understand. I take the potion bottle back to the cupboard and place it back inside. Staring at the entire stock.

I know I’ve taken too long when Selena coughs politely and I close the cupboard, guilt twisting my stomach.

Emmerson pushes a plate of the fresh, gooey bread in front of me, eating his own warm piece with a happy, sloppy grin.

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