Page 41 of Caress of Fire
At Lord Anion’s side, Silva’s young face twisted with confusion, like she couldn’t understand what she had heard. Isobel watched, her face still unmoving but her eyes full of surprise as she stared up at her nephew.
Fedryc nodded to Henron, who climbed gracefully down the stairs and handed the folded letter back to Lord Anion. The young Draekon’s face twisted with an almost comical effect, changing from a confident, almost smug expression to one of complete confusion.
“But I have the letter. She is compatible.” Lord Anion cast a disdainful glance at Henron before turning away from him, not reaching for the letter. “Silva Derrios is of age, she can be mated.”
“Only fools send a girl of seventeen into a mating contract,” Fedryc answered in a cold, controlled tone. Behind him, Nyra raised her large head and peered at the Draekon man down the stairs, an annoyed look on her features.
Lord Anion’s gaze slid to the dragoness and fear flashed in his eyes. He was not a complete fool, then. But soon, the fear left and was replaced with anger. “You can’t refuse the mating!” he shouted, his features full of outrage. “She’s mine.”
Fedryc got to his feet slowly, Nyra stirring behind him as he climbed down the steps to stand over the young Lord Anion of Virhot, a smaller kingdom neighboring his own. Lord Anion had an aristocratic face, his features fine and slim, almost feminine in their delicacy, and the outrage on his face betrayed a nature governed by entitlement and capriciousness. A mind that couldn’t comprehend why he was being refused something he should not have asked for in the first place.
“You are sorely mistaken, my Lord.” Fedryc growled the words, not hiding his hostility. Lord Anion swallowed compulsively, his eyes darting from Silva to Fedryc in fast succession. “My cousin is not a possession you can claim at your will. She is a young woman, in many ways, still a girl. She is not ready to become anyone’s mate, much less a mother.”
“A female’s fate is to bring heirs to her mate,” Lord Anion retorted through clenched teeth despite the fear gleaming in his eyes. “What you really want is to prevent my kingdom from having an heir that is of pure blood while you will have an abomination for offspring.”
The words hung in the air for a second before Fedryc’s fist moved. Lord Anion landed five feet away on his ass, his nose bent crooked at a sickening angle and blood dripping down his once pristine white coat.
“Leave my house, leave my kingdom!” Fedryc spoke as power coursed through his veins like a poison, making his hands itch with the desire to hurt the man more. “And never return.”
“You hit me.” Lord Anion lifted his hand to his nose, then cried out when his fingers returned bright red with blood. His eyes turned cold and murderous as he glared at Fedryc. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with. I won’t take that insult so lightly.”
“You should count yourself lucky I’m allowing you to leave with your life.” Fedryc felt Nyra move behind him and he covered the distance to the young Draekon Lord, towering over him as Lord Anion pushed himself to his feet. Fear was clear on the other Draekon’s features as he glanced over to Nyra and then back to Fedryc. “Run while you still can, and forget your claim on my cousin. A piece of dragonshit like you will never have her.”
Lord Anion’s lips lifted in an ugly sneer and the young Draekon turned on his heel, then stalked away through the large throne room, the sound of his steps reverberating off the ceiling until the door closed on his stiff back.
“What have you done?” Silva’s voice made Fedryc turn around. The girl stomped into the middle of the room, past Henron and toward him. “He came here at my invitation, and you break his nose and then send him back?”
“That man was not worthy of you,” Fedryc answered, wiping Lord Anion’s blood from his knuckles with disgust. “He will never set foot in my kingdom again.”
“You can’t do this to me!” Silva cried out, then turned to her mother for support.
“My darling girl.” Isobel glanced at Fedryc, then turned to take both her daughter’s hands in hers. “Maybe Fedryc isn’t wrong here. You are young and—”
“No!” Silva pulled her hands out of her mother’s. “I was going to be the Lady of one of the richest kingdoms in the entire continent. Virhot should be mine!”
“You will have another match.” Fedryc shook his head, surprised at the girl’s outburst and at his aunt’s support. “When you are twenty-one years old, you may accept any offer you deem worthy. Except from the Lord of Virhot.”
“I won’t forgive you for this.”
Silva stepped closer to Fedryc, and he frowned at the anger in her gaze. She was young but there was something in her eyes, in her soul. Something old and ugly, a greed for power and riches that he hadn’t seen before.
He should have given the girl more attention when he’d arrived on Earth. It wasn’t good to let her grow into a woman hungry for power over conscience.
Before he could answer, Silva whirled around and stalked away, her gown flowing around her slim body with an angry grace.
“I was a year younger than her when my father sent me to Lord Derrios.” Isobel surprised him by speaking and Fedryc stared at his aunt. The woman’s expression showed sadness, but also relief. “My father wanted a powerful match, with the money and status that came with it. It robbed me of my youth, robbed me of my happiness. I don’t want the same for my daughter.”
Fedryc stared at his aunt in silence for a good few moments, trying to wrap his mind around the new information. The world of Draekons and their power was cruel in a way he had not been exposed to in the Emperor’s castle. In a heartless way he could never accept.
“Aymond would have accepted the claim, whether I was happy about it or not.” Isobel looked straight at him with an open honesty he hadn’t seen in her before. “I thank you for this.”
Fedryc watched his aunt as she made her way out of the throne room, her steps slow and elegant. When she was finally gone, he turned to Henron.
“You made an enemy,” Henron said simply. “Virhot is small in size, but it is a powerful kingdom, and that boy is stupid enough to fight for his claim.”
“Yes, you are right.” Fedryc glanced at the door through which Isobel had disappeared. “I have made an enemy today, but I might have made an ally as well.”
Chapter 14
