Page 17 of Eluvonia
I need a plan. An escape. A way back to what little remains of my world.
“Come,” he commands, walking towards me, his toneleaving no room for argument.
Instinctively, I step back, my hands curling into fists. His movement is swift, too quick for me to react. He reaches out and grabs my wrist, his fingers unyielding. As his hand tightens around my wrist, I feel a cold pressure at my back. I look over my shoulder, my eyes widening as I see the shadows around us become tangible, shifting and pressing against me, forcing me to move forward.
“Let go!” I hiss, twisting and pulling against him, but his hold doesn’t waver. The shadows at his feet seem to crawl, stretching out as though to reinforce his strength, thickening around us in a tight embrace, making it harder to pull away.
He drags me forward, his pace unrelenting. My feet stumble over the plush carpet, then cold stone as we step into a tunnel. Dark banners line the walls, the fierce eyes of Dragons glaring down at me from the fabric. Their silent judgment sends a shiver down my spine.
The male doesn’t slow, forcing me into a half-jog to keep up. My wrist aches where his hand clamps down, but I grit my teeth, refusing to show weakness.
I’ll kill this bastard and find a way out of this stone prison.My fingers inch toward my belt, closing around the cool hilt of my dagger. Slowly, I slide it free, keeping my movements controlled, quiet.
One strike. One chance.
I whirl, driving the blade toward his ribs—
Shadows lash out, faster than I can blink. They coil around my wrist, stopping the blade an inch from his side. A dark chuckle rumbles from him as he turns, his gaze flicking down to the dagger, then back up to me with infuriating amusement.
His grip tightens on my wrist, yanking me closer until hisbreath ghosts against my ear. “Cute,” he murmurs, his voice dripping with mockery. “I admire the effort, really. But if you’re going to try and kill me, at least do it properly.”
His shadows coil up my leg, slithering like living smoke. I scowl, jerking against them, but they only wind tighter, sliding up my thighs and curling around my waist. The cold, unnatural feel of them sends a shudder through me.
“Get them off me!” I grunt, twisting in his hold, trying to shake them loose.
He only chuckles. “Now, why would I do that? You seem to enjoy squirming.”
I snarl at him, baring my teeth, but the shadows slither higher, teasingly slow. Then, as if bored of my struggling, they dip behind me, pulling the last dagger from the waistband of my pants. With a flick, they toss it to the stone floor with a sharp clatter.
“No more surprises,” He says coldly, his smirk vanishing as he turns and continues walking. With a sharp tug, he yanks me forward, his grip like iron around my wrist, tight enough to make my bones ache, threatening to snap it.
I glare daggers at his back, my entire body thrumming with rage. “Bastard.”
His chuckle is low and dark. “Now, now. If you’re going to insult me, at least be creative about it.”
We pass through another towering door, guarded by two armored Dragon males who step aside at a curt nod from him. The chamber beyond is vast and cavernous, its polished stone surfaces gleaming under the light of strange, glassy structures hanging from above. They sparkle like trapped stars, their cold glow casting eerie patterns across the floor.
Heavy curtains frame massive openings along the walls,the thick fabric spilling onto the floor like waterfalls frozen in time. Between them hang enormous tapestries, each depicting Dragons locked in violent battles with Fae, their expressions twisted with fury.
At the far end of the room, a stone throne rises atop a platform. Half-draped in red cloth, it exudes a cold, unyielding power that makes my stomach churn.
A Dragon male seated on the throne is older, his black hair streaked with gray. Lines cut deep into his face, framing piercing blue eyes that gleam with sharp intelligence. Dark armor hugs his form, and his folded silver wings add to his imposing presence.
He dismisses a hunched figure standing before him with a flick of his hand. The figure bows low before retreating, leaving me alone under the weight of the older Dragon’s gaze.
“My son,” he drawls, his voice bored but his eyes razor-sharp. “What have you brought me?”
The male holding my wrist bows his head, though his grip on me remains firm. “Father, we raided the Fae hideout. This Fae fought back—with earth magic.”
The older Dragon’s eyes narrow. “Impossible. The crystals are intact; we just had a routine check.”
“I know,” the Dragon male holding me replies, his tone grim. “That’s why I brought her to you.”
My heart pounds as their gazes turn to me.Magic? Me?A vine did sprout during our fight, but that couldn’t have been me… could it?
“So, Fae,” the older Dragon says, his voice cutting through the silence like a blade. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
I meet his gaze, refusing to cower. My voice is steady,defiant. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
