Page 50 of The Lost Child

He leaned in close, grabbing my shirt and yanking me toward him. “And if you do try to leave before the wedding, I’ll slit the draken’s throat.”

I couldn’t help it. My eyes widened in panic, and I wasn’t fast enough to school my expression.

My father threw me back down to the ground. “I knew it. You’ve ruined him. Even more reason for me to leave, though he’s coming with me. The King of Tarta’s draken isfemale.” He paced several steps away, his hands curling and uncurling as he kicked up sand.

“Marry Macguire with a smile on your face, and I’ll considernot killing the beast,” he spat at me. Not waiting for a response, he stalked away up toward the twisting walkway that led up to our marooned ship homes.

My mind screamed at me to get up and run, but my father was right. Where would I go? I couldn’t do anything without Canavar being threatened. Whether we liked it or not, our fates were entwined now. Where one went, the other must go.

I wished Canavar could simply break free and rip my father limb from limb. If it wasn’t for the stupid blood curse, then—

I had to break the blood curse on Canavar, and then we’d both escape. Whether by air, on a ship, or something.

You’re too weak and stupid to break it.

I told the voice to shut up because there was something else the young witch had let slip about the curse that Alkdama had failed to mention, whether by accident or on purpose that I only just remembered. I had my father to thank for that. When he mentioned breeding the Tarta draken to Canavar, it jogged my memory:a mate could break the curse.

I wobbled slightly as I stood, shaking out my hand with a grimace of pain. Hopefully, I only had the one broken finger; everything else seemed to be in working order, if a bit slow and bloodstained. I took the first step toward the caves, praying no one was guarding Canavar. With a bloody wedding to pull off, you’d think every pirate would be running bunk to bunk, gossiping like fishing wives.

It was my only chance.

Father was right about one thing: tonight, I would bind myself irrevocably to a man who would help me out of this. It just wasn’t Macguire.

And I prayed he wouldn’t hate me for taking the choice from him.

* * *

I’d dragged myself straight from the beach to the iron bars of his cage. I grasped the rusting metal between my fingers as I used it to heft myself up. Everything hurt. I had to still be bleeding from somewhere.

But I had to get Canavar out of here and fast.

The young witch had said the easiest way to break it was for his mate bond to supersede the blood bond.

So I’d mate him. Or at least try, since I didn’t know anything about drakes or how they… mated. Surely it was the same as regular men, wasn’t it? They had the same parts, after all.

I’d do it, whatever the consequences. His freedom was worth that much, and then we could both escape somewhere and … I don’t know. We’d figure it out.

The little bottle of acid pressed tightly against my chest, but I couldn’t bring myself to completely free him. What if he refused me? What if he somehow hurtme?

I was too much of a coward.

“Hey big guy. You OK?”

Canavar jolted awake at the sound of my voice, his nostrils wide as he inhaled my scent. A heated growl left his lips, and he writhed and struggled against the collar and chains that held him down. His eyes were more feral than he’d last been, and he snarled at me as though he’d forgotten who I was.

I hissed in pain as my hand came down on something sharp on the ground. I picked up the offending object and squinted at it. It was a fang, still covered in blood from where it had been ripped from Canavar’s gums.

I tucked it into an inner pocket.

“Ssh, it’s fine. Relax or you’ll hurt yourself worse,” I chided Canavar. I eyed his wings, torn and bleeding. They were stuck underneath his body, and Canavar had no way to free them chained on his back like this. He kept trying to lift his weight with his legs, but from how his muscles quivered they were already taxed beyond their limits, trying to keep his sensitive wings off the ground. It was beyond cruel. I wish the ones who’d done it had been the ones blown up in my explosion. Pressure swirled in my chest, but I ignored it. That wouldn’t be the answer today.

“Do you understand me when I speak? Or is it just commands and tone?” I inched carefully toward him until I was right by his side. I’d been pretty sure he was fully coherent of speech and language, but the animalistic pain in his gaze wasn’t reassuring. He didn’t attack me, or try to break his chains as I moved closer. He tracked my movements carefully, giving a pleased rumble when my palm landed gently on his forehead, and went no further.

“Nice Canavar,” I muttered, then giggled when I realized I was talking to him like a frightened child. Or a wild animal. Neither were far from the truth, I supposed.

“OK, now just be calm. I want to try something.”

I pulled out the vial, unable to see him in pain for much longer. Carefully I leaned down and let it drip on the chains holding his neck and arms down. As the liquid ate through the metal with a hiss, he ripped off the chains and leaned back on his arms, panting as he tucked in his wings.

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