Page 9 of Her Tortured Beasts

“I will brief you after you are refreshed, my lord.” His brown simple human eyes slide towards the cage. “And should I take your…pet outside for the loo?”

Irritation sweeps through me like a sneeze. “No. It’ll use the bathroom after me.”

Another noise emits from the cage, but I ignore it, and wisely, so does Olly.

After brushing my teeth and showering, I check in with my dragon. He’s still out like a light, in the same position as before, curled in on himself, a crease between his black brows. Smoke suddenly fills the bathroom, and the automatic air vents turn on, sucking up my anger.

Upon my return, Heather has appeared and replaced the sheets on my bed. Olly has laid out my clothes, and Heather is presently opening a small closet, hidden in the wood panelling in the corner of the room. She takes out a plain, floor length black dress. It’s a simply made cotton and spandex blend with a round neck and wrist-length sleeves. In her other hand, she holds a pair of black ballet flats.

I frown and finally turn to look at the covered cage against the wall of the room. With a huff, I lean down and flip up the front flap of the blackout material.

Spawn is already sitting in its cage, glaring at me with bleary blue eyes, her inky hair like a tangled bird’s nest, the blue gown from last night like a deflated balloon around her. Her scent strikes me across the nose, sour sweat over her natural, heady scent.

It shouldn’t affect me the same way it used to. I sniff delicately, checking for the difference. Sweet, feminine, but not maddening. Not dangerous. Not even pleasing.

“Brush your hair,” I snap as I unlock the cage door, “And shower. I won’t have you embarrassing me with a foul appearance or smell.”

“Of course,” she mutters. “We can’t have that.”

Onlyshecould be locked in a crate all night and still have so much attitude left. She crawls out and accepts the clothes Heather gives her. The maid ushers her into the bathroom with a wrinkled nose, as if Spawn is a mud-splattered dog that just trotted in from outside.

I don’t know what I expected to feel when I formally broke the mating bond. But the vision of the mating mark fading from her neck was nothing but sheer and utter relief. Something inside of me has definitely eased. Calmed. Soothed.

Freedom is a fresh, cool breeze through my body, and as Olly holds up a black business shirt for me to wear, I allow myself a tiny smile.

Fifteen minutes later, Heather and Spawn exit my bathroom. Her hair is thankfully brushed and tied back from her face, and that black dress?—

I huff in irritation. Heather has chosen the wrong size because the material wantonly clings to Spawn’s snake-curvesbefore it falls to the floor. The round neck shows her collarbones before cupping her breasts like two delicate hands.

She looks sort of grey behind her olive skin. But I’ve forgotten something—that’s not my problem anymore. None of this is my problem at all. There’s a whole team of serpents who are being paid to be interested in her bodily health.

So I simply extract the dragon chain from the gold bangle around my wrist and flick it in her direction. Under dragon telekinesis, it clips itself to the collar.

She flinches from the pressure but averts her eyes, choosing to scowl at the floor instead.

Hatred curls my lip as I look upon her. “Not a single word at breakfast, or Iwillmuzzle and gag you.”

Her slender jaw clenches under her own malice as those blue jewels glitter in annoyance. But she says nothing.

Breakfast is being served in the lesser dining room this morning. It’s my father’s—ourless formal dining area that we reserve just for close family. So no serpents or other unwanted residents of the estate will be joining us.

Nerves bounce in my stomach as I anticipate who will meet me there. I impatiently pull Spawn along behind me, then completely forget about her as I reach the set of golden doors that will lead me to the one thing I’ve spent years yearning for.

No more secret visits to Sissy or the hatchlings. No more sneaking about at night. I am allowed to be here. Allowed to greet my family as one of them.

Voices trickle through the small open gap between the doors. The excited, high pitch of my niece and nephew, and the deeper, more reserved feminine voice of?—

“Mother?” The word slips out of my mouth as I step into the room. It sounds disbelieving even to me. Golden morning light fills the space, as intended by the architecture. It could be heaven, for all I know of it, to see my entire family, my entire world, sitting at that dining table.

“Uncle Xander! Uncle Xander!” shriek both hatchlings, their napkins tumbling to the floor as they hurtle towards me at full speed.

“Hello,” I chuckle, reaching down to ruffle their dark locks as they cling to my legs, peering up at me with wide eyes and grinning faces.

“Mother says you’re going to be here all the time now!” Emmerson shouts, fist pumping the air.

“We can play in the backyard!” Delilah squeals, pressing her cheek to my leg and squeezing her eyes shut.

“Come back here, you two.” Sissy’s voice is low and disapproving where she sits on the far side of the long dining table. She doesn’t look at me as the hatchlings obediently run back to their seats, but I can’t think on that now as I focus on the person whose very memory has the strength to make my bones shatter.

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