Page 121 of The Forbidden Dragon King
No way in hell.
I narrow my eyes, nodding. “Okay.”
Maximinus leans over the desk. “Come, tell me how eager you are to celebrate one of our greatest king’s achievements, fae.”
I grit my teeth.
I cando this for Freya.
I stroke over the glimmering snowflake bond mark, sensing her happiness.
I can’t destroy that. I’d do anything to keep my Omega safe and happy. She can’t know about my poisoning, the control Maximinus holds over me, or these missions.
Would she reject me? I’m meant to be her protector.
Would Aurelius find a way to convince her to kick me out of our newly formed pack, if he discovers that I’m an assassin?
Losing my sight?
Dying?
I take a deep breath.
“I’m overjoyed,” I deadpan.
“Good pet,” Maximinus croons. “Now, tell me how enthusiastic you are to put your newly acquired courtesan skills to use in public as the entertainment.”
I rear back in shock; my wings curl defensively around me. “That’s an Omega’s role. You’ve been humiliating me in private with this courtesan bollocks, but I didn’t believe that you’d truly make me perform?—”
“But you’re hardly an Alpha anymore, are you?” Maximinus straightens the papers on his desk. “Your magic is suppressed. I control your every move through the poison in your blood. Your wings are clipped. Also, sweet pet, you’ll look divine in silks and satins. I’ve already had your costume designed for the dance. You’ll captivate everyone with that singing voice of yours, which your instructor informs me is the best he’s heard.”
I shutter my expression. I won’t let his words touch me.
Maximinus studies me with a sour expression like he was looking forward to my explosive reaction.
Fuck. You.
Dissatisfied, Maximinus frowns. “During your dance, you’re to seduce the Head of the Council, Quintus Sempronia.”
I furrow my brow, thinking hard.
Maximinus has made certain that my work duties have involved cleaning the councilors’ and courtiers’ rooms, learning their habits and names, as well as serving their meals in the Banquet Hall.
My memory is good, even if my sight is weakening.
“Silver Dragon,” I say, in mission mode. “Independent on most issues. Stubborn and opinionated. A secret bastard to the servants, frequently beating his personal servant. I know because the lad can barely walk most days. A widower who uses that as an excuse to harass unbonded Omegas. The female servants avoid him. I guess that he gets away with it because of his position on the Council and his silver dragon patrician blood, aye? In his fifties, hooked nose, and eyes as hard as he is.”
Maximinus gives me an approving look.
“You’re good at this.” He lifts the silver bottle off the desk, and I lick my lips. “Come here, you’ve earned the antidote. You’ll need to look your best, after all.”
Eagerly, I start to stand.
Maximinus’ expression cools. “Crawl.”
I bite back the sassy response because he’s holding the antidote that’ll temporarily restore my vision and reducethe searing pain, which has plagued me from the first day that I was dragged into this court.
I drop back to my hands and knees and crawl around the desk. Maximinus spreads his knees, patting his lap.
