Page 89 of Her Tortured Beasts

It’s not until I hear him say her name that a trickle of disgust makes its way through the numbness.

“Francesca,” Flores moans.

Chapter 49

Xander

Blood Upon the Snow — Hozier & Bear McCreary

There is no coming back from this shame. The shame I’ve caused my family, the shame I’ve entombed around myself. And sitting in my father’s office, opposite him and my new fire-sworn wife, I’m half convinced they’re going to kick me out again.

I watch them dully. Emotionless. There is nothing in me anymore. No anger. No fury or rage or irritation.

Something in me died four nights ago. That’s the only explanation for what came after.

“For three days,” my father states, “I’ve been asking myself the same inane question.” He narrows his eyes at me. “What demon possessed my heir the night of the auction? Was it a plot against me? Against the family? Some elaborate, long-planned revenge?” He shrugs. “But no, I almost immediately ruled that out because you couldn’t be so intelligent nor so stupid as to construct a plan so obvious and dim-witted as that.”

I don’t miss the way Francesca’s lips twitch. No doubt she’s plotting her own revenge.

Father leans forward, clasping his hands upon his desk. “I’ve decided it was your mother’s genes at play. The berserker gene transformed into an evolved form of insanity.”

He could very well be right. Not much is known about the berserker dragons as they were all hunted and put down. My mother was saved that fate by her beauty and the fact that my father claimed her and promised to keep her controlled. The council at the time accepted that and let them live their lives as long as the terms were fulfilled.

“However, your temporary insanity has put us into a dire position,” my father says frankly. “More than one wealthy beast is out for our family’s blood. By all rights, I should remove you as my heir.”

I sense there is a ‘but’ coming.

“Luckily,” my father continues, “the newest member of our family has proven to be of sound mind.”

Francesca smiles at my father, a pleased, ugly expression as she says, “The only solution is to keep you shackled.”

At one time, hearing this might have sent me into a rage. Might have sent me destroying this room and the people in it. But today, the sound of my Uncle Fabian and Ragnar stepping into the office from behind me makes me feel nothing but cold.

I don’t even turn to look at them as they each take a wrist of mine and secure it with an obsidian shackle.

Immediately, my vision blinks out, along with any trace of fire and my powers as a dragon.

A blind man might as well be a dead man.

Francesca inhales sharply. She’s never seen me without my glowing eyes, and unfortunately for everyone who has to lay eyes upon me, empty and scarred eye sockets are a fucking ugly sight.

Luckily, my hearing picks up the slack and I’m able to get to my feet without falling over like the fool that I am.

“Anything else, Father?”

“You are not to leave the house unless I say so. You are not to communicate with anyone outside the house. I will confiscate your phone and all electronics.”

Less than dead, then. For once, I wish I had Scythe’s ability to go cold, or Savage’s ability to go unhinged.

Instead, I am left with nothing at all. A fire that has been put out. All that is left is smoke.

“Very well,” I say. “I will await further instruction.”

“You do that,” Francesca huffs.

Chapter 50

Aurelia

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