Page 100 of Wrath of the Dragons
“Ah, fuck,” Zarius mutters, glancing between me and Elowen. “They’ve come for my crown.”
“You don’t have a crown,” Rhys sighs.
Zarius gasps. “Have they taken it already?”
Elowen looks him over. “I must say exile looked much better on me. Do you not have some water for the princeling?”
“I’m older than you, dragon queen.”
“Could’ve fooled me.” She steps forward, paying no mind to the drawn blade of the legendary knight. “No blood needs to be spilled if you cooperate.”
“Are we your prisoners?” Rhys asks, directing his words to me.
I tilt my head as I regard the pair. Silence is just as effective in unnerving someone, sometimes even more so, especially when they know who I am. “That remains to be seen.” The knight takes in each of us and accepts the fact that he’s outnumbered. If he didn’t have a drunk prince to look after perhaps he’d fight, but he throws his sword to the ground, baring his teeth in a feral snarl. “Pick it up, vulture. I’m not your squire, and I do not fear the end of a blade.”
Chapter
Forty-nine
Cayden
I perch on a railing andlean my back against the stairs that lead to the upper deck, twirling a knife on my bent knee while listening to the waves lap against the ship. The salt in the water smells stronger in the cave, so thick I can nearly taste it.
“This is ridiculous,” Saskia huffs. “We’re sitting around here like we’re waiting for a baby to wake up from their nap.”
“Well, it’s clear he nursed a bottle,” Elowen replies, turning away from where she strokes Venatrix’s snout. The dragon returns to the water at the loss of attention, sinking so deep only her head breaches the surface.
“What were we supposed to do?” Ryder throws a card down on the barrel between him and Finnian. “Negotiate with a drunk?”
“He’s slept long enough,” Saskia replies. “We’re wasting time. The matter needs to be resolved before we sail to the castle.”
Finnian stands from the wooden crate and dunks two tankards into the freshwater basin, striding to where Zarius passed out on a pile of sacks filled with grain. Rhys rests a hand on the hilt of his blade.
“Stay your hand,” Elowen warns, and growls echo through the cavern, creating a symphony of promised retaliation and ruthlessness.
Rhys’s shaking fingers loosen, and Finnian throws the contents of the first tankard at the prince. Zarius sputters and coughs, jolting up as he pushes his hair back from where it sticks to his face.
“Welcome back,” Finnian says in a cheerful tone, setting the other tankard beside Zarius and slapping the prince on the shoulder. Even Rhys can’t manage to hide a small smirk. “Problem solved.”
The dragons’ low growls continue echoing throughout the cave, but they remain out of sight. I wonder if they sense the fear in Zarius and Rhys and wish to exploit it. Elowen moves to rest her back against my thigh and crosses her arms in front of her as Rhys offers Zarius a hand up. The pair of them make their way toward us, perching on two crates close to our section of the deck.
“Call off your beasts, queen,” Zarius says. “I’m awake.”
Elowen shows no outward sign of vexation, but one by one, the dragons emerge from the darkness at our backs with bared fangs, surrounding us with their heads as water droplets sizzle on their scales. “I suggest you never advise me on how to command my dragons.”
A crew member hands Zarius a roll to soak up some of the alcohol sloshing around in his stomach, but he hardly notices it, unable to pull his crimson gaze away from the dragons. “I meant no offense.”
“In order for you to offend me, I’d have to care what you think.” Elowen shrugs, unsheathing the knife at her waist, pointing to the bread with the tip of it. “Eat.”
“Why should I trust you enough to eat what you serve?”
“Because you’re currently worthless,” I respond.
His nostrils flare but he accepts it, biting off a chunk and washing it down with water as he flicks his eyes between us. “The bastard loves the princess and the world bleeds because of it.” He chuckles dryly. “Oh, I’ve heard lots about the two of you.”
“What else have you heard?” Ryder asks.
“The lovely Elowen is believed to be the most beautiful woman in Ravaryn, with a face that brought a kingdom to its knees. A woman blessed by the Goddess of Life, married a man blessed by the God of Death—it’s all quite poetic if you ask me. Life and death, fire and water, stars and moon. Some say you’re cursed, not blessed, and others say Elowen is a witch or an enchantress who bewitched Cayden.” He turns to where Saskia stands beside Ryder. “Though I’d love to get toknow you more so I can figure out why exactly you’re staring at me as if you hate me.”
