Page 3 of Heavy is the Crown
Shadow
The air is stagnant around me, hot and sticky with the scent of my own sweat, blood, and piss. I’m not sure how long I’ve been down here in my little cage. All I know is, my father has used some fucking witch magic to keep me from healing. Even without showing my dragon, I still have the ability to heal rapidly, which caused great offense to him after he spenthourstaking his whip to me. Hence the sickly sweet-smelling potion that is currently dripping down the chains attached to my arms.
Out of my less-swollen eye, I can see the flickering light above me,Why does every room like this have flickering lights? Can’t they fix this shit?The thought pulls a chuckle from me that burns my cracked ribs, causing me to wince. I’m ninety percent sure my father has forgotten about me at this point; it feels like days have passed since he’s been down here. But maybe it’s only been a few hours. All I know is, my whole body burns and aches. The iron chains around my wrists bite down hard with no give, keeping my arms extended at an awful angle above my head.
The only thing that has kept me sane has been the memory of Drago. The memory of his hands moving over my body, his teeth nipping at my tender areas, his wicked tongue spilling beautifulpromises into my ears, and that thick cock of his bringing me so much pleasure. At first, it was purely physical, but somewhere along the way, it becamemore. Stolen moments in the evenings turned into hours of talking, whether in person or over text, until we seemed to be in constant communication. At least until I got dragged here.
Fuck, I hope he isn’t worried.
My father, the bastard that he is, seems to know something is going on between us. He sends Drago out of the house whenever he brings me here, which makes me wonder how he has managed to get him out of the house for this long. Surely, at this point, Drago had to have returned home, right?
Unless it really has only been a few hours.Time is a mindfuck down here. Before Drago, I had no desire to mark the passage of time, but now? Now, I count the minutes to get back to him. He’s awoken something in me that has made me feel something other than despair and hatred for myself. Now that I’ve had a taste of it, I don’t want to go a day without it.
I twist my head around, trying to relieve the pressure on my shoulders, but it only manages to show me how stiff I’ve become. My attention is pulled from my misery by the door behind me creaking open. An involuntary flinch pushes through me that rattles the chains holding me to the bar across the ceiling.
“I’m going to fucking kill him.” Drago’s voice echoes through the room.
My chest cracks open when I see him move into my view, watch his eyes catalog every single cut or bruise on my body. The promise of swift retribution is painted across his beautiful face.
He reaches up and snaps the chains in one swift movement, deftly catching my body before I hit the ground. He cradles me to his chest, which feels impressive given my height, as he moves us out the door. My eyes snag on the dead guard next to the door and a sick satisfaction pushes through me.
“I’m never leaving you alone here again,” he promises.
And even if it’s selfish and dangerous, I let him make that promise and pray he keeps it.
He does.
. . . for a while
Shadow (twenty-two years old)
(“In the End” – Linkin Park)
The stone floor under me is stained and cracked, pieces of rock chipping up more and more each time I’m down here. Overhead, the light flickers and buzzes like a swarm of bees, causing a migraine to start creeping in. My wrists ache from the shackles I’ve had around them for the last few days, and my tongue feels like sandpaper from the lack of water. The air around me smells like sweat and mold, guaranteeing that even if I had been fed, I would have puked it up at this point.
My father, Julien Rosewood, stands over me, heaving with exertion. His massive body has lost some of its muscle over the years, but he’s no less powerful. Sweat beads on his upper lip and drips down his forehead. The displeasure and annoyance are evident on his face as he takes a drag of his cigarette. My body shakes with exhaustion from my father trying to force my transformation, his alpha magic ripping into me over and over again. The brutal beast under his skin refuses to take no for an answer, and it’s been a long time since I’ve endured this type of treatment. Ever since Drago found me, he’s kept me out of my father’s reaches. Until today.
“I should have known you would be a worthless piece of shit. Thank God, I have your stepbrother, or my empire would bedoomed.” He kicks me in the stomach, and my body curls in on itself against the pain.
Normally, by my age, I would be shifting all the time, but I’ve held back. He believes I have no power, that my dragon is too weak to come forth. But the truth is, I have far too much. The promise I made to my mother haunts me in these moments. Like a wailing ghost, it sits and mocks me as I take the abuse over and over again. My love for my mother has turned bitter at this point, her memory a curse because of this damn promise.
My dragon is angry, his feral rage always riding me, never giving me a moment's rest. Now, he is so volatile that I have no hope of control when he is finally unleashed.
You let him control us, we could kill.
Its voice is always so loud in my head that it now blurs with my own inner dialogue. I don’t know where his emotions start and mine end. We are a blur of contempt and hostility.
My father drops his cigarette on me, the end burning into my skin. I want to rage or cry or fight, anything really, but my mother’s voice moves through my head again, reminding me of that fucking promise. He leans down and grabs my chin, forcing my eyes up.
Please don’t flash gold, I beg.
You’re fucking weak. Let us out. Let us show him who we truly are, he counters.
My dragon rattles his cage. If my father learns how powerful I am, he’ll either kill me or force me into his service for the rest of my life. While his dragon is powerful, he’s getting old and needs someone like me to help him maintain his rule. Dragons have a long, painful history of being forced into servitude, and while Hell no longer buys and enslaves us, my father still holds relics from that time that would make controlling me easy.Keep it together. Drago will come. Just keep it together. Think about that night in the cabin.
He leans down, his putrid breath across my face. “You think your littleboyfriendis coming to rescue you?” Shock must move over my face, because my father’s lips shift into an evil grin. “Yeah, I’m not as dumb as you two think I am. You corrupted him, ruined him. You are an infection in this house that needs to be purged.”
He snaps his fingers, and the scent of a vampire invades my nostrils. Renewed energy pulses through me as I whirl around, but two men are already grabbing my arms and roughly hoisting my exhausted body off the ground. “You’ll be Alexi’s problem now.”
