Page 109 of The Forbidden Dragon King
But then, that’s what Daire gets for attempting to stick a butter knife through my heart.
I snort.
Should it even be classed as an assassination attempt?
Pathetic.
After all, fights like that between us are more like banter.
Vicious laughed, when she heard about Daire’s attack, calling itthe love language in our bromance.
I threw her out of my study for that.
Daire should accept that I’m always going to be the winner when we fight.
He’s stubborn. Although, I admire his tenacity.
War has a betting pool going on how many days there will be between each of Daire’s dungeon visits.
Lucius won the last one since it was only four days.
I grin, taking a sniff of the leftovers that I grabbed from the kitchens on the tray: a pear, chestnuts, thick cuts of chicken and goat, cheese, bread, and a jug of milk.
My step lightens.
I told Freya about the golden threads. She didn’t reject me or tell me that she hated me. For some reason, she trusts the only person in the realms who is as dangerous as Lanlin is.
Daire is charming. It’s his talent.
He’s beautiful. Mesmerizing.Magnetic.
This is the leader who rose as a teenager to pull together an entire army of child rebels like himself who should have been easily broken and conquered. Instead, rallied by his charisma and power as their king alone, they grew in strength, daring to challengeus,their rulers.
I have to admire him. I also have to crush him.
I can accept being in a pack with Daire, but only if he accepts me as his dominant Alpha.
I peer through the gloom at the cell, which is at the bottom of the corridor. It is hidden in the deepest shadows.
Why is it hurting my heart to see how tiny the cell is? With no furniture, only dirty straw on the floor? How freezing, when Daire has no blanket?
I slam down hard on the memory of my uncle’s hand on my shoulder, steering me to face my nightmare future in a cell just like this one.
Does the iron in the bars hurt Daire, as the enchanted chains agonizingly supress my own primal nature?
To my surprise, however, Daire is sprawling on the cold, stone floor like it’s the softest nest fit for a king.
A cat is curled in front of him, which he is petting between the ragged ears.
I shake my head.
Trust Daire to have made friends with the only creature more disreputable than him down here, the working cat who hunts the mice.
The cat glowers at me. Her tabby fur is a mess, and she has one cloudy, blind eye and one golden. She looks like she has lost bites out of one of her ears in a fight.
So, just like Daire she is used to losing her battles.
They suit each other.
