Page 38 of Dreams and Dragon Wings
He snorts and tilts his head to the side. “Why would I care about any of that now? I have what I want.” His gaze scrapes over me, as if memorizing every inch.
I flinch and look away.
“A Jewel…” Friedemar breathes, a hint of awe seeping into his voice. “And here I thought you were all dead.” He chuckles—a dry sound. “It would seem my dragon friend was correct. Therewasa Jewel hiding in Briarhold.”
My heart skips a beat. A dragon friend? Surely not Bene.
Bene would never associate with such acretin.
As if sensing my unflattering thoughts about him, his arm snakes toward me like a viper striking. His fingers coil around my wrist once more.
“No—” It’s all I manage to choke out before he yanks me to my feet.
Within the darkness, his face looms close. Too close.
“And to think I once promised I would report any whispers of a living Jewel to this friend,” he exhales, caressing my mouth withhis disgusting breath. “But I do think I will be keeping you for myself after all.”
“Release me,” I demand with all the authority I can muster, “and I will spare your life, Friedemar, son of Aldemar.”
He freezes, his eyes searching mine.
I lift my chin and pray he cannot hear the way my heart thunders in my chest. If he wants to believe I am some powerful creature of legend, I can certainly play the part.
A faint smile hitches at the corner of his mouth.
“You’re bleeding,” he whispers as if he cares, as ifhewasn’t the one to make me bleed in the first place. His hand reaches toward me, like he intends to swipe away the blood from my lips with his thumb. “It would seem we’ve gotten off to a bad start.”
A sound bursts out of me—something caught between a laugh and a sob. Sharp. Hysterical. I twitch away from him before his touch can land.
“Release me,” I repeat, drawing out each syllable. “And I will spare your life.”
“You’re not going to kill me,” he coolly points out, calling my bluff. “If you were, you would have done so already when I had your”—his lip curls—“fiancéarrested.”
I suck in a deep breath and will myself to remain calm. Not for the sake of my glow—I no longer care about that—but for the sake of my swiftly racing thoughts.
I stare at him, waiting for his next move.
He surprises me by breaking eye contact first. Silent, he moves about the bedroom, busying himself with lighting the oil lanterns fixed to the walls.
My brow furrows as I watch him work. “What are you going to do with him?”
Friedemar shoots me a confused look over his shoulder. “Who?”
“The man you arrested,” I bite out. “Lord Reginald Lockhart.”
He smiles and returns to lighting the lanterns. “Ah, yes. The clockwork man.” After a brief pause, he reveals, “He will be hanged in the morning.”
I forget how to breathe.
“What?” I gasp. “But you can’t. He’s… he’s agentleman, not some common criminal.”
“How right you are, my dear,” Friedemar agrees instantly. Turning to face me again, he bluntly corrects, “He will be beheaded, then.”
Something must pass across my face. Something that causes Friedemar to scoff. “The man drew live steel on his sovereign. That is treason, and it cannot go unpunished.”
His eyes blaze across me again, sending a shiver down my spine and igniting a fresh spark of fury in my chest.
No. I try to snuff out my rage. I don’t want to lose control again.
