Page 37 of Tempest Blazing
"The question," Dominick continued, "is what will motivate you? What will it take to show you that your current allegiances are... misguided?"
I thought of Mason's body, mapped with scars from countless fights. The way he'd flinch sometimes when touched unexpectedly. The haunted look that would creep into his eyes when he thought no one was watching. This was where those scars had come from. This elegant monster and his arena of horrors.
"I'll never help you," I whispered.
"Never is such a strong word." Dominick moved closer, until I could feel that unnatural cold radiating from his skin. From somewhere within his jacket, he produced a silver dagger—ornate, beautiful, and razor-sharp. The blade caught the light as he examined it with casual interest, like he was admiring a piece of art.
"You know," he said conversationally, testing the edge with his thumb, "I've found that absolute statements often crumble under the right... pressure." He leaned down until the blade hovered just inches from my throat, close enough that I could feel its chill against my skin. "The human body is so wonderfully fragile. So many delicate places where even the smallest cut can cause exquisite pain."
My breath froze in my lungs. The blade didn't quite touch me, but the threat was crystal clear. One tiny movement, one wrong word, and that elegant silver edge would find my flesh.
"But we'll see how long your resolve lasts," he murmured, voice a velvet whisper that made my skin crawl. "You have a performance coming up, Miss Whittaker. The ring is eager to meet the first human Dragon Rider. Such a historic moment deserves... an audience."
He straightened, sliding the dagger back into his jacket with practiced ease. The casual way he'd wielded it—like it was an extension of himself—told me everything I needed to know about how often he used such tools.
From another pocket, he withdrew something that made my blood turn to ice: a collar of black metal inscribed with glowing runes that pulsed like a heartbeat. The magical energy radiating from it felt wrong, predatory—designed to contain rather than protect.
"Now," he said, moving behind my chair, "we can't have you wandering off before we've had a proper chance to get acquainted." The collar clicked around my neck with a sound like a prison door slamming shut.
The weight settled against my throat like a promise of violence. But my mind had caught on something he said earlier.
A performance. In the fighting ring. Where beings went to be broken.
"This isn't about punishment," I realized, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. "You want to study me." The truth crystallized with horrifying clarity.
Dominick's smile widened. "How refreshingly perceptive—though hardly surprising given your... academic background."His voice carried condescension wrapped in silk. "In all my years, I've never encountered a Dragon Rider so utterly vulnerable. So thoroughly human. Yet you possess something I require—a connection to power that could serve my purposes beautifully."
My throat went dry. They wanted to use me for something, but what? The certainty settled in my gut like poison, even as the specifics remained frustratingly out of reach.
"The ring will test you," Dominick continued. "Your strength, your resolve, your commitment to your current... friends. And when you realize the futility of resistance, when you see how much easier cooperation can be... well. We'll be here to welcome you home."
He turned toward the door, Garanth falling into step beside him.
"Rest well, Miss Whittaker," Dominick called over his shoulder. "In a few minutes, the real test begins."
The door closed with that same soft, final click, leaving me alone in the elegant prison. I sank deeper into the chair, my legs suddenly too weak to hold me.
They weren't going to kill me. They were going to try to break me, to turn me into something I wasn't. And the terrifying part was... I wasn't sure I was strong enough to stop them.
Chapter 16
Tess
This was exactly the danger they'd warned me about. The door clicked shut, and silence slammed into me. I sat there, frozen, the magnitude of what had just happened crushing down on my chest.
Despite all my precautions, all the careful planning, I'd still ended up exactly where they'd said I would—trapped, collared, helpless. The collar around my neck felt like a noose—not just the physical weight of the metal, but the knowledge of what it represented. Control. Ownership. Everything that made meme, stripped away.
I lifted my hand to touch it, fingers trembling as they traced the intricate runes carved into the black metal. The moment my skin made contact, agony ripped through my skull—white-hot electricity that split my brain in half. I jerked my hand back with a strangled scream, stars exploding across my vision. Message received. The collar wasn't just decorative.
Breathe, I told myself, panic clawing up my throat.You're more than your magic. You survived twenty-six years without it.
Lies. I knew it was a lie. I wasn't the same person I'd been before Thalon. Before Kane and Mason and Draven and Ciaran. Before I'd learned what it felt like to have power humming in my veins, to be strong enough to protect the people I loved.
Where was Draven now? Could Mason feel me through our mate bond, or did this damned collar block that connection too? The thought sent ice flooding through my chest. If the bond was severed, if they couldn't find me...
Now I was just... human. Fragile. Breakable.
Footsteps. I straightened in the chair, spine snapping rigid despite the terror coursing through me. I wouldn't let them see me crumble. Whatever they had planned, whatever sick game this was, I'd face it with my chin up.
