Page 51 of The Demon Prince's Accidental Mate
I just wasn’t sure what that was yet.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Lily
Dannorax waited until the entire courtroom was empty before casually tossing me from his grip toward a cluster of minotaurs, who promptly scooped me up and held me like I was on a cross, arms spread wide.
I didn’t fight. I was still too busy staring in awe at the dragon as he moved into a giant circular hole in the ground, moving with shocking grace for a creature so large. I hadn’t expected him to be so at ease in the underground tunnels, but perhaps that wasn’t as surprising as it should have been, given some of the legends of giant dragons under mountains.
“Let’s go,” one of the minotaurs said, dragging me across the room to a smaller exit and down a dark, gloomy hallway. The lights were spaced far apart, the stone colored black. No air moved, and there were no windows. The entire thing was designed to invoke despair and depression in those who walked it involuntarily.
Eventually, we came to a door that opened into a much larger hallway. Rows of metal doors with tiny square openings in their center lined the sides of it. The metal coverings were heavily latched, and every door had a key slot on the outside. Not that I needed such markings to know where I was.
It was a prison. A large, secure, intimidating prison.
One of the guards strode ahead, opening a cell that was previously unlocked.
“Enjoy your stay,” he grunted as I was rather harshly tossed to the floor inside.
“Is it too late to upgrade to a suite? Something with a better view?”
The door slammed shut, taking with it my freedom and most of my attitude. How long would I be there? What sort of punishment did Dannorax have in mind for me? There were so many questions and precisely zero answers.
Wearily, I slumped down to the ground, the cold of the stone easily seeping through the flimsy material of my pajamas. At that point, a prison outfit would probably be welcome. It would—hopefully—be clean, at least. After the events of the night, I felt beyond dirty.
Even just thinking about it all sent yawns rolling through me. Somehow, despite my predicament, I was able to think about sleeping. Or perhaps I was too exhausted to continue. I didn’t know. Was it still night? Was it morning? At some point, time had stopped having meaning.
There was no light in the cell, and the darkness pulled at me, drawing my eyelids lower and lower. Sleep beckoned, and suddenly there was nothing more I could do about it. I curled up as best I could on the floor, using my hands clasped together as a pillow, and wondered if I would ever actually be able to—
The floor started shaking, and I jerked awake, sitting up in alarm as the walls moved.
“Hello?” I shouted, curling into a ball in the center of the cell as it moved. “Who’s there? What’s going on?”
Bright light spilled into the cell around the perimeter of the floor. I clasped myself tighter, the light revealing that my cell wasn’t moving. Rather the floor was descending out of the cell.
A vast panorama greeted me, the light harsh to my eyes, though they drank it in anyway, beginning to tear within seconds. I blinked furiously, brushing away the liquid as I tried to see. Green treetops spread out below me, and a moment later, I was sweating as the humidity reached me, wrapping me up in its awful, oppressive bubble.
WherewasI?
Behind me came what could only be described as sandpaper slowly rasping against wood. I spun.
And screamed.
Inches from my face was the giant mouth of a dragon, teeth sticking out from its lower jaw, and one of its yellow eyes, as big as I was tall, staring at me. There was an intelligence in that oval-like pupil, something I’d never learned to associate with that type of eye before. It was disturbing in its vastness as I stared deep into it, unable to look away.
“Dispense with your pathetic instinctual response,” the dragon barked. “The fact that your first thought is to scream is, quite frankly, beyond pitiful. How does it help you? To what end does screaming aid the situation? What use is it, besides making others look down at you with scorn for not being able to properly handle an unknown situation?”
I glared at the dragon.
“Ah, now anger is a better response. Not the best, mind you, as it usually results in mindless action. But at least it isactionand not paralysis. Stick with that. Any more insufferable screeching and I will be forced to break my strict diet and use you as a toothpick. Are we understood?”
Coming up with a response while on a tiny rectangular platform hovering in mid-air mere feet from teeth longer than my arm was … difficult.
“Good,” Dannorax rumbled, taking another breath through his nostrils, the air again making a sound like sandpaper as it raced up the scaly tubes. “I’m glad we have reached an understanding.”
“That usually implies that both sides understand,” I pointed out.
“Ah, she does speak. Good.” The eye seemed to quirk in amusement. Or was I just inferring human characteristics? I didn’t know.
