Page 18 of Dragon Unleashed

“All right, all right,” I call, pacing across the room.

Cracking open the door, I step back in surprise.

“Camille? What do you want?”

One of her perfectly sculpted nails pokes me in the chest. “Make him take it down. Now.”

I purse my lips, wincing as my cut there splits open again.

“Magabook—make Farrell change his relationship status back,” she snarls.

I shake my head, pulling my phone out of my back pocket, showing her that the battery died.

“It says,” she leans in, spitting her words in my face, “itsays?it’s complicated.’”

I shrug. It’s not like I control Farrell. Whatever twisted game he’s playing I want no part in it.

“Don’t think just because Farrell has that old fart bodyguard following him around that I won’t get to him. He’s mine. I warned you before.”

Farrell has a bodyguard? Oh, he’ll love that. I smirk. I bet it’s Silas. That asshole trailed after him the whole time we were at the Virrey’s.

“Piss off, Camille. I’m with Chano.”

“So?” She stills, a dangerous gleam in her eyes. “You think you can have them both? That’s what this is?” Camille pokes me in the chest again, forcing me backward. “You think you can have them both? Worming your way into those boys’ lives. Gold digger!”

The venom in her words makes me hesitate, and it’s all she needs to push past, fully into my room. She swings around, perfect red hair flying, face twisted in anger.

“What did you say to the Virrey that he’ll let Farrell out of our engagement? We’ve been promised since we were little. What do you have to offer? Your body? Did you screw the Virrey too?”

The idea of sleeping with that creepy, domineering old man… Hell no. Camille is winding herself into a frenzy, and when I don’t respond she turns to my desk and upends everything on it with a screech Hewie would be proud of.

She pauses her tirade midsentence and swoops down, plucking Naeve’s book from the heap she’s made on the floor.

“What, so you’re researching the royals now? Trying to get into the Cuelebres’ good books?” She sneers. “A whore and an ass-licker.”

“You’ve lost me, Camille. What do the Cuelebres have to do with royalty? Take your temper tantrum and get lost.”

Camille brandishes Naeve’s book under my nose. It falls open to where the photo sits, nestled in the pages, and she stills. The color drains from her face. She glances between the photo and me and back again. Her mouth opens and she screams. Just screams like she’s letting out all the anger and heartbreak of the world.

“This? This is far, far worse than when you attacked me, when you nearly killed me. Far worse.”

With her perfect nails she tears the picture into tiny pieces, dropping the scraps on the floor along with the book. She grinds her pointy stiletto into the mess, breathing heavily, then walks out of the room without another word, leaving me open-mouthed behind her.

What the…

I drop beside the mangled book. Naeve is going to be devastated. I shouldn’t care, but…

I pick up the book, smoothing the pages out and shutting it gently. Digging around in my bag for something heavy to lay on top, my fingers brush the cool metal of my knife. The one Naeve gave me. The first proper present anyone gave me in my whole life.

I scrub a hand over my face. This is so messed up. I thought she was my friend. I thought I’d finally found people I could rely on. With a sigh I tuck Naeve’s book under a pile of my heavy textbooks and slip the knife into my pocket.Back to looking after myself, best be prepared.

Scooping up the bits of photo I lay them carefully on my bed. I don’t like seeing it in pieces. It’s a photo of who-the-hell-knows. It shouldn’t bother me. But it does—it really does.

My fingers move through the cast for fixing broken things and I steady my thoughts to concentrate. I can mend this. I think.

The result isn’t perfect. You can still see the joins, and the bit with her right ear is fractionally off. But it’ll do. My mind plays back over Camille’s pale face, her slumped shoulders. She saw the similarities too. It meant something to Camille.

Who the hell was this woman?

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