Page 111 of Her Tortured Beasts

Francesca and I return from our trip four days later. Her parents were insistent on showing me their properties and businesses. For some reason, and despite my lack of interest, they were eager to please me. As if pleasing me would get me to actually love their foul daughter.

My alleged wife insists on reporting to my father’s office with me, despite me saying that I’d prefer it to be private.

When we find him, however, standing at his desk with his hands on his hips, he’s quite smug when he sees the both of us.

“Welcome,” he says, far too happily.

His glee is fully reserved for Francesca alone, and I don’t even feel jealous as I take my regular seat.

“You will be pleased to hear that we’ve had a successful exchange,” he says to me after kissing the dragoness on both cheeks.

Francesca claps and looks between us.

“What exchange?” I frown.

“Lady Crocodylus,” Francesca says, grinning at me with her teeth. “She placed a winning bid for the Boneweaver. We’re considerably richer!”

My stomach turns.

“Yes, she was quite excited,” Father says wryly, sitting in his chair and gesturing for Francesca to do the same. “She has quite a few plans, Lady Katerina.”

I go still. At his words. At Francesca’s giddy joy. At the scent that suddenly wafts my way.

“Urgh, what is that?” Francesca says, wrinkling her nose as it hits her too. “It’s coming from that cabinet.”

I’ve already turned towards the old baroque thing. It’s heavy and ancient, like the rest of the furniture in the room, passed down from father to son. Hints of gold line the scrollwork at the top. Father’s upgrade to it leaves a mechanical hum in the air.

“Yes, I have it refrigerated for the new scientists, but I wanted to keep it in here for a bit.”

There is no other thought in my mind, only singular purpose as I rise from my chair and stride towards the cabinet. A dull roar grows in my ears.

A voice comes to me through the din, like an old echo.Don’t open it.

But I’ve gotten used to ignoring the voices in my head. My father doesn’t stop me when I wrench it open.

Francesca screams.

When I speak, my voice emerges dragon-guttural, heat pouring from my skin and flooding the room. My shoulders heave in a breath. “Who did this?”

“Oh, you recognise it, do you?” my father drawls, sitting back in his chair. “I suppose you would. We’d charged you and that General Ghoul to break the girl. And when you both failed in the matter, I had?—

My shift is explosive.

When my dragon tears from my skin, we destroy the entire tower. Stone and dust explode in every direction. I barely hear Francesca’s screams, barely care as I launch into the twilight with a shower of fire pouring from my throat.

There is only one image in my mind: the sight of Aurelia with her leg missing from the thigh down, her screaming and pouring blood.

Her dying.

She doesn’t deserve this. Never deserved this, no matter who her father is, no matter who her mother was. No matter what she was to me.

“You have severed our connection to her,”my dragon seethes to my human self.“We cannot track her.”

“We don’t fucking need to,”I snarl back. “We know where The Collector’s dwelling is.”

“They are protected.”

“And I will tear down every fucking reptile on the property.”

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