Page 6 of Court of Dragons and Crowns (The Dragon Crown)

I frown. “How did you get in here?”

“Magic,” he sarcastically taunts with an arrogant smirk I want to smack off his face. He straightens and walks over to me, leaning around to switch off the shower, his arm brushing mine. For a moment, my backstabbing, stupid heart pounds for another reason. I can’t help the fact that he’s absolutely gorgeous, inhumanly gorgeous, and I can’t see a single flaw on his perfect face. I’ve never read about dragon shifters, but I know there are books about them. Paranormal romance was never really my thing though. Neither was fantasy, and yet here I am, in a shower with a freaking dragon shifter.

Taking the small distraction, I run to the door, and just as I reach for the handle, Lysander’s hand snaps around mine, pinning my arm above my head as he presses his body into mine while I push at him with my other hand. “You can’t leave yet. We need to talk. I want you to do something for me, Elle.”

He knows that’s the nickname Finley used. “Fuck you.”

He growls at me, the sound unnatural, and I freeze in fear. “I’m the dragon king of the Water Court, and no one speaks to me that way without being drowned. I’m being nice, Elle, but don’t push your luck.”

I shiver from the threat and how I can see he means it. He would kill me without blinking. A lethal smirk tilts his lips up, and he leans closer to me. Too close. “I can hear your heart pounding fast. I can sense the change in you that went from being utterly fearful of me to being a bit aroused in that shower. It’s a damn shame you ran. We could have explored that.”

I glare at him as he picks up a strand of my purple hair. This reminds me of Finley, of how he grabbed me, of how he was going to take what he wanted without my permission. I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. “We won’t be exploring anything, Lysander. Let me go.”

I’m surprised when he does just that, letting me go and standing back. I suck in a deep breath. He crosses his thick arms. “I need a spy within these stupid little games, and you, Elle, are going to be that for me. I want you to get close to Arden—ridiculously close—and make sure he trusts you. When you’re sure he trusts you completely, you’re going to kill him. I want it to hurt. I want him to imagine a future with you, trust you, right before you kill him.”

“No,” I gasp, my mouth dry.

“Yes, you are, and in exchange, I’ll help you stay alive in the tests,” he continues. “That way, we both win. I’ll even mate with you in the end and let you go home.”

“You’ll let me leave?” I quietly question. I stand a little straighter. “And if I don’t do this? What if I just find Arden and tell him you want him dead? He might offer me a better deal.”

He narrows his eyes, and I feel the water on my clothes go cold, almost tighten against my skin. “Your sweet little grandma lives all alone. So mortal, so helpless. Wonder what would happen if she accidentally fell into the sea on her morning walk while my dragon was swimming by?”

“No. No, don’t, please,” I beg, my heart pounding.

He offers me his hand. “We have a deal, then?”

I nod, but I don’t take his hand. He eventually lowers it, stepping back. “Do as I ask. Get close to him. Make him trust you. Make him fall for you. It will hurt so much better when you stab him in the heart.”

He disappears into mist, and I slide down the door, dropping my head onto my knees before I let myself burst into tears.

CHAPTER 4

Staring up at the bottom of the top bunk, I try to fall asleep again without seeing Finley burning. Without seeing those dragon kings kidnapping me, without imagining my grandmother frantically looking for me. She will be wondering if I’ll ever come back home, and I can’t get out of my mind the haunting, lonely look that will be on her face.

I can’t sleep. Nothing works.

I listen to two of the girls’ light snores and Arty’s much louder ones from above me where she sleeps. She snores like a banshee caught in a net. Holy fuck, banshees might be real. Fairies might be too. The sound of them snoring is a little comforting, even if they are strangers…they are strangers in the same boat I’m in. When I close my eyes this time, I see green eyes staring back at me. Lysander. His threat is burning into my mind, and how I wish I could find a way to refuse him. But I can’t risk my grandmother’s life. She is all I have left, and I owe her so much. She didn’t have to take me in, not at her age, not when she hardly had enough money to look after herself. But she did, and I cannot be the reason she is killed.

Now I’m going to have to get close to Arden. He killed my ex-boyfriend without even hesitating. That’s how little humans mean to him. I don’t want to flirt with him. I’ve never been any good at that, and I’ve been told I constantly wear my feelings on my face. Considering I hate the bastard, I’m not sure I’m going to be able to fake interest in him. He seems like an arrogant prick, so he might be used to girls throwing themselves at him. No, I need to think of a different way to get close to him. For my grandmother and the possibility of getting back to her at the end of all this.

Lysander said he’d send me home, but I don’t think he has the power to do that. The only way I’m going to get back is by winning this goddamn test and making sure I marry one of them that won’t force me to stay here. I should get to know the others. I don’t want to be a queen—a dragon queen. I don’t want magic. I don’t want any of this shit. But perhaps if I do win, I might have enough magic to get myself back to my own world. I could disappear with my grandmother on Earth or maybe one of the other mirror worlds Matron talked about.

The door swings open, slamming against the wall, and a cold breeze blows through the already freezing room. I sit up, rubbing my sore eyes. I barely slept a wink all night, and I feel like shit. I guess that’s our wake-up call, along with how the room suddenly fills with light, and I can’t tell where it’s coming from. It’s almost like the stone bricks are glowing.

Hope looks over at me as she sits up on her bed, picking up her cloak and heading into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. “Good morning to you, too.”

Livia rolls her eyes at me as she easily jumps off the top of the bed, heading over to the mirror at the end of their bunk bed and beginning to braid her hair into a crown. I frown at her back, wondering how she learnt to braid like that as a happy, chirpy voice fills the room.

“Good morning, everyone! I wonder what we’re going to be doing today! I’m so excited!” Arty all but squeals as she climbs off the bed and stretches her arms above her head.

“Lessons,” Livia declares.

“How do you know everything?” I ask her, suspicious. She looks over her shoulder at me as she finishes her hair.

She raises an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t you like to know? I’m not bothering to tell you, because you will be dead by the end of the day.”

“That’s not very nice!” Arty defends me. “I’m sure there won’t be a test on our first day. I expect a slow day.”

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