Page 26 of Dragons' Mate
A gong sounds somewhere, marking the end of the high priest's speech. At once, there is a palpable charge in the air as all the dragons glare at each other.
Quinton starts toward the supply wagons. Even in gray instead of black, he is violence incarnate and I almost feel bad for whoever might try to get in his way.
Hauck bars Quinton’s path. A suicidal move if I’ve ever seen one, but Hauck grins easily and stuffs his hands into his pockets while Quinton glowers murder at him. "Forgetting for a moment that you are still walking with half your hide,” Hauck drawls, “can we acknowledge that when it comes to… acquisitions… I’m the one with experience?”
"Stars know I can vouch for that,” Cyril mutters under his breath. “And for the number of times I’ve wanted to flay you alive for that talent.”
Hauck flashes a grin, his thick lashes turning up. “I knew you’d come around to appreciate me one day.”
Quinton sighs dramatically, but yields and Hauck struts away to acquire provisions.
The four of us turn toward the mountains but make it less than a dozen steps before Geoffrey and his pack block our path. They are all large and good looking, but there is a cruelty around the corners of their mouths that reminds me of some of the nobles at Agam estate. Ones who thought they were owed whatever they wished, especially by slaves.
Tavias lifts his chin, his scales pressed tight against his temples. “Move.”
Geoffrey tucks his thumbs into his belt. “Come, cousin. That is no way to start an alliance.”
“An alliance?” Tavias echoes with the incredulity that I feel rippling through the rest of the pack. “With you?”
Geoffrey shrugs. “With who else? Not a permanent one, of course. Just until our packs are the only ones left. We both know that the elixir must remain within the royal blood one way or another, and that means either your pack or mine. Whatever else, we must think of Massa’eve first and foremost.”
“That we do.” Tavias rolls his shoulders, as if trying to work the kinks out after the ride. “But, I think there has been a misunderstanding.”
“How so?”
“I’d rather see the elixir poured down the latrine than watch you procreate,” Tavias replies with a nonchalance that makes me fight back a laugh. “In fact, I might go so far as to ensure I personally cut off your balls to prevent such a disaster from befalling the realm. I must think of Massa’eve first and foremost, you understand.”
A slow smile spreads over Geoffrey’s mouth. “I am going to remember you said that.”
“I’ll take pleasure in knowing I live in your brain rent free.” Tavias continues forward, shouldering Geoffrey out of the way to clear the path.
“I am curious about something, though.” Geoffrey’s drawl hits my back just when I think we are past his blockade. “With the bond and all, what will Quinton feel when I take his human cunt for a ride?”
Quinton stops, going preternaturally still. Anger that’s not my own hits me, making it difficult to think.
“Would it feel like it’s him being fucked?” Geoffrey wonders aloud, his grin widening when we turn back toward him. He looks at Quinton directly now. “I’ll take her ass first, just so it feels familiar. As a courtesy. But then—”
Quinton snarls and lunges forward, Tavias and Cyril intersecting him a pace away from Geoffrey.
Not now,Tavias orders with his mind.
My chest tightens. Not now, because now Quinton is still weak and we are without Hauck, who went to get supplies. Not now, because we are in the middle of a stars’ damned meadow where anyone else might join in. How many here have a bone to pick with the crown? Even though no one is close enough to hear our exchange, I know the others are watching. Hell, Geoffrey probably planned it this way.
“Maybe I’m looking at this all wrong,” Geoffrey amends, speaking louder now. Playing to the audience that’s slowly gathering. “It takes a certain type of bravery to bring a mate to a place like this, after all. Knowing what will be done to her here. Tell me, Shadow, is this part of your training perhaps? Something your father is having you do? The way Ettienne treats our lands, I would not be surprised at all.”
“Shut your mouth,” Tavias says, stepping up to Quinton’s shoulder.
Ettienne’s warning returns to me. The one about me being a weakness that would be exploited. Geoffrey knows exactly what buttons to push.
“We should go,” I tell the males. “Find a good camping spot. High ground or whatever.”
“High ground or whatever?” Geoffrey echoes. More packs are around us now, sizing us up. “Is it the human giving orders in this pack, then? The wench has put a leash and muzzle on the princes of Massa’eve it seems. Is this what we all have to look forward to if you lot keep the throne?”
“I said, shut your mouth.” Lightning dances along Tavias’s raised scales. That’s two of us whose skin Geoffrey has gotten under in as many minutes.
“It’s not my mouth you should be worrying about, pack leader,” Geoffrey replies, sneering toward Quinton. “What do you imagine will happen the first time Lady Kitterny’s mouth screams and begs? What will happen to your little pack then? Will you even be able to control your own?”
Geoffrey points toward Quinton, who really does seem more feral beast than cool warrior now. His eyes are narrowed, the pupils compressed to slits, his lips curled above bared teeth.
