Fear licked through her, but she wouldn’t show it. She wouldn’t bow to any man, let alone one who tossed her and her son away at first sight of trouble. All he had to do was stand up for her, for them. The guards moved in behind her, pushing her as they walked past the people who had gathered in the hallways. They watched as she was led from her room.
Remy frowned, staring over her shoulder where Blane followed behind her. He started to say something, but Kerrigan stopped whatever he had been about to say on her behalf. Fyra glared at Blane, shaking her head as she watched them being led away from the room.
“Blane, this isn’t right,” Fyra growled, uncaring of the angry glare she got from Kerrigan.
“The people have spoken,” Kerrigan said with authority in his tone.
“Did they? Because I didn’t hear them demanding the queen be dethroned or dragged out of her room. I didn’t hear them demand that she be separated from her son. Do you mean your people, who you presume carry more vote than the rest of us, demanded she be tossed out with her innocent son because they could turn the king against you?” she demanded loudly. “Who here agreed the king was wrong in taking her as his queen?” she shouted.
Kerrigan backhanded her, and she smiled as she used her thumb to wipe the blood from her lip. “Enough out of you!”
“Blane,” Remy demanded. “This is a mistake.”
“You can join her in chains if you disagree with my choice. The people have spoken; I am their king, not hers.”
“If you think they wanted this, you’re not ready to be their king.”
“Careful,” Blane warned. “You are treading into dangerous waters, my friend.”
“I’d rather tread into those waters than watch you make this mistake.”
Chapter Forty-Two
The cell she was placed into was dark, musky, and filled with nothing more than a rat-chewed cot. She sat against the wall as her legs gave out as the door was slammed shut, echoing through the empty space. The sound of Darynda’s crying filled the hallway that held otherwise-empty cells.
She listened to the guard’s feet as they walked the length of it, cracking uneasy jokes about the length of what was happening outside. The crops had dried up; the animals had fled, leaving no food for the people. They had nowhere to live, resulting in tents being set up inside the crumbled remains of the castle and courtyard.
Of course, they’d begun fixing the castle again, but it would take years to finish it. Ciara smiled, wondering if Blane blamed her for the poverty conditions his people now resided in. In the iron dungeon she was locked inside of, she doubted she could speak to anyone anymore. She could already feel it diminishing her strength.
Iron was deadly to the Fae, but here, there as just enough to leave her depleted of strength without killing her. The door opened, and Blane walked in, bringing blankets and candles, which he set on a decrepit table. He turned, staring at her through the light that entered the room from the hallway.
“They don’t deserve this,” he snapped.
“Neither do I,” she muttered as she turned away from him on the dirty straw that covered the floor.
“I didn’t want this, Ciara,” he growled.
“Go tell someone who cares, Blane,” she whispered as she closed her eyes.
“You need to feed,” he pointed out.
“No,” she replied harshly. “Not from you, not anymore.”
“I won’t allow another to feed you,” he growled harshly.
“I’m aware, and I really don’t care. I will never let you touch me again,” she said. “Get out.”
“You’re not queen here anymore. You do not give me, the king, orders.”
“Can you fetch Kerrigan for me? I hear he orders you around just fine. Ask him to ask you to fucking leave me alone. I’m sure he’d prefer if I starved to death anyway.”
“He has the ear of the council and the people.”
“Good, he can have the council advise you to get the fuck out of here. I’m not your queen, remember? You are nothing to me. I am nothing to you.”
“Stand up,” he demanded. “Now, Ciara.”
She stood, staring at him. He moved to her, pushing her against the wall as he grabbed the chains that hung from it. She swallowed hard as her heart hammered against her ribs as he clasped her hands into the iron cuffs. She trembled as the nightmares returned. The walls felt as if they were caving in on her as memories of her father’s dungeon came back with a vengeance.
“They’re iron, Blane,” she murmured as it burned her flesh.
“So they are,” he agreed. “So what?” he asked.
“Never mind,” she whispered, waiting for him to finish.
“If you put the castle back as it was so my people are no longer suffering, you can have a room again. You will want for nothing, Ciara. You will be my queen, do you understand me?”
“I can be your whore if I just give you back the splendor of the kingdom. Got it. It’s a hard no from me,” she uttered through her trembling lips.
“You’re not a whore,” he snarled. “You’re so fucking stubborn! Woman, say it, and I will remove the chains.”
“I’m your whore, your enemy who isn’t good enough to be the queen to your people. I understand perfectly what you are offering me and I’d rather die, dragon. Is Darynda in chains?” she said offhandedly.
“She’s not High Fae as you are. She doesn’t pose the same threat.”
“Good, she doesn’t deserve this either. But at least she will be spared what you are doing,” she murmured. “Now get out, I’m tired of your mouth.”
“You can have Fury with you; just agree to be what I need you to be. I don’t want another queen, Ciara.” He murmured as he rested his head against hers until she pulled it back, hitting hers against the wall to get away from his touch. “Kerrigan is powerful; when he speaks, the people listen. I won’t have the people turning against you and trying to harm you. This is the only way I can protect and keep you safe. Fury is safe now; he is no longer able to claim the throne, which means they will not move to attack him or you.”
“If your people would make a move against an infant, then they do not deserve to live,” she hissed coldly. “Nor do they deserve to live in splendor or comfort. As for us, I’d rather rot right here than be your mistress.”
“Have it your way then,” he muttered as he moved to the door, pounding on it. “I didn’t want this.”
“No? But you did it at your council’s demand. A king is more than his people, he rules them justly. He doesn’t allow them to rule him. If you can’t see that, then maybe you will when Kerrigan is sitting on your throne, and you are beside me in this dungeon because you, my dear husband, are not full dragon either.”
“I will be back to check on you,” he whispered as the door was opened and he stepped through it.
“Don’t bother,” she muttered crossly as she sagged once the doors were closed. The iron ate at her flesh, burning it as it sapped her strength. Thick black veins snaked through her flesh as it poisoned her. Stupid dragon; he hadn’t even realized he had clapped her into iron chains, meant to slowly poison Fae. He’d be lucky if she were even alive when he returned.
Chapter Forty-Three
Ciara waited, scarcely able to open her eyes as she called out for help. She could hear the guards speaking, but it sounded as if they did so from far away. She pushed from the floor, standing as they backed away as she became alert.
“What is wrong with you?” one demanded.
“Iron,” she whispered.
“Get the king,” the other stated softly.
Neither touched her or offered her help. One left the cell as the other one stepped closer, staring at her flesh. She could see the black spider webs of poison that were slowly killing her. She opened her eyes as the
cell door was opened, and Kerrigan walked in instead of Blane.
His eyes took in the damage as a malice-filled grin spread across his lips as he touched the chains and then turned her face back and forth, taking in the damage.
“Who else knows about this?” he asked.
“Just you,” the guard informed.
“No one else is to know,” he replied icily. “Leave us,” he ordered.
“But the king said no one else was to be alone with her, sir,” the guard argued.
“I said get out,” he demanded as his lips thinned. Once they’d left and closed the door behind them, he backhanded her. She dropped to her knees on the dirt-laden floor.
Ciara pushed back off the floor, staring at him with death in her eyes.
“Did you think you could make him love you?” he crooned as his hand grabbed her breast, applying enough pressure that she groaned past her swelling lips. “I raised him to hate your kind, and you end up in his tent, spreading your pussy for him to fuck. You think you have more power over him than me? You’re nothing but a whore from the depths of hell. You will die here, ensuring war is inevitable. I will have my war and not you, not even Blane will stop it. He is king because I allow it; I control the popular vote.” Her eyes widened as she watched him. “That’s right, and poor Hannah, she already believes she will be the queen to Blane, but they’ll never make it down the aisle. No, because she already carries my child in her womb and she will be my queen, loved by the people because they think she and Blane have already lain together. They love her because of it, but when their king is murdered by the Horde and their treachery, I will become the new king, forced to take his position by popular vote, of course. Don’t worry; your son will be murdered with his father. Can’t have his bastard coming back to kill me, can we?”
“You’ll die,” she whispered through her dry lips. “You will be the first the Horde comes for.”
“I don’t think so,” he laughed. “You see, Blane put you down here, but I replaced the chains and chose your cell. You’re wrapped in iron, chained to the wall in it, bitch. You will be dead within a few hours, and no one is coming to save you. Your guards are being murdered and replaced by mine as we speak. In a few hours, a messenger will deliver the news that Blane murdered you to seek revenge for his mother and family. They’ll come, and we will be ready.”
The door to the cell opened, and Blane stood there with his sword. Blood dripped from the edge as he stepped into the cell. His eyes were fluorescent blue, burning with rage.
“Of everyone I expected of treachery, you were not among them, old man,” he growled as he watched the old man draw his blade.
Ciara watched in horror as Kerrigan swung in her direction and Blane blocked it, forcing him into a position that left him open to attack.
“The guards,” she murmured and watched as Kerrigan moved towards the door as Blane danced around him to protect Ciara from becoming a target.
“Are all dead,” he seethed. “Did you think I wouldn’t know what you planned?” he demanded. “That I would so easily fall into your trap again?”
“I raised you, boy,” Kerrigan screamed as his lips thinned into an angry frown. “You, you were sent to the Horde to die; instead you return with this whore and what? You fall into her wet cunt the moment you get an opening? I taught you better than that! I raised you better than that! You think killing me will end the threat? Hundreds of us want you dead for giving up what is ours to take!”
“I didn’t give up revenge when I went to the castle to take their children, and yet you plotted my death. My death, Kerrigan. I am your king by right, my birthright, and my fathers before him. My son’s birthright, no matter what race he is, is my throne. You and your council do not determine who becomes king here. You do not determine who I choose as my queen, and I’d choose her a thousand times over the whore I knew you were fucking. And your men are dying at the end of blades as we speak. You are done. Because of our past, you can walk away now or die by my blade. Choose.”
Ciara screamed as Kerrigan lunged, driving Blane’s blade through his own heart. She sagged in relief as his body hit the floor. Blane was there, hoisting her up as he released her hands.
“You should have let me fucking feed you,” he growled. “I wanted you in a room so Remy could watch it without having guards posted.”
“You knew?” she demanded weakly as her legs sagged against him.
“I’m not a fucking idiot, and if you think I’d ever have another queen, you’re thicker than I thought. You’re mine, Fury is my son and my heir, and I’d never put another before you or him.”
“And Fyra?” she whispered.
“I didn’t know if she was with them,” he admitted. “Remy has our son, the others are being taken care of, but I need to get you to them so I can be sure it is being handled.”
“Go, I’ll get to them. I need to get Darynda out,” she murmured as she pushed him away and held onto the wall. “Go, dragon. I can save myself,” she growled as she reached for the guard’s keys and slid back up the wall. “Remove the wards. Call the Horde, Blane. They will fight for you.”
“I’m not calling your brothers for help. If I cannot protect my people, then I don’t deserve to be their king,” he growled. “Get Darynda and head to our son,” he ordered as he took the steps three at a time with his sword drawn.
She pushed the key in and ducked as Darynda threw a bowl at her head. “Gods, it’s me,” she complained as she leaned against the doorway. “There’s a hostile takeover going on. Get me to my son,” she explained weakly as Darynda rushed to her apologizing. She waved it away and leaned against her for support as they started up the stairs.
She was weaker than she thought and sweat beaded over her brow as they passed the bodies of the guards, and then more men who fought against Kerrigan. Obviously, he hadn’t had the backing he claimed, or there wouldn’t be dead people everywhere.
Once they reached the upper stairs, she closed her eyes as nausea swirled through her. Her head felt as if it had filled with iron and she dropped. Darynda cried, slowly falling beside her as she struggled to get her up.
“Ciara, get up,” she demanded.
“Get to Fury,” she ordered. “Darynda, get to my son and protect him.”
“I can’t leave you like this,” she murmured as she wiped at her tears. “You have iron poisoning. We need Eliran.”
“Go to Fury!” she screamed, turning on to her side as she watched Fyra approach. Fyra reached down, hefting her up as she headed towards the stairs.
“Fury better be fucking safe, and I’m going to kill Blane for not including me in the fact that some asshole was trying to kill him, you, and the babe. I may just kill them all,” she seethed.
Ciara felt the wards lower and sifted without warning to the top of the stairs. Zahruk materialized beside her, staring down the stairs as he withdrew twin blades.
“The fuck is going on here?” he demanded. The air electrified as the others sifted in, wearing full armor.
“Who the fuck invited bedroom eyes to the party?” Fyra asked as she reached them and withdrew her own blades. “We don’t need you,” she said icily. “Your blades are…lacking.”
Zahruk growled from deep in his chest as his armor materialized and he reached down to heft Ciara up.
“Some asshole is trying to take the throne, but Blane killed him. His men are still here, though,” Ciara answered. “We have to get to Fury and protect him.”
“And you have iron poisoning why?”
“Chains,” she said, excluding the fact it was Blane’s fault.
“Yeah, I’m going to need a little more about that when I finish here,” he drawled as his eyes followed Fyra’s ass as they walked down the hall.
“Darynda is right behind us,” she hissed.
“So she is,” he said with a quizzical look on his face, as if Ciara had gone daft.
“Where is the baby?” he asked.
“In my room?” she asked.
“The tower, Blane said he is in the tower with Remy,” Fyra injected, pausing as three guys raced towards them. “You don’t want to do that,” she laughed as she withdrew her blades and danced through them gracefully, as if she was dancing some macabre dance that only she knew the steps to. Body parts separated, and heads rolled down the hall projected by her blades and then she was strutting towards them with her hips swaying as if murder got her hot.
“Fucking hell,” Zahruk growled as his eyes started to glow as he watched her.
“Get me to my son,” she snapped.
They sifted, leaving Fyra behind them until Zahruk went back for her, leaving Ciara propped against the wall. When they sifted back in, Fyra was against the wall, and Zahruk was smirking down at her as she growled from deep in her chest.
Ciara opened the door as both of them snapped for her to wait. Ristan sifted in and entered the room without waiting for anyone’s approval. Ciara’s blood ran ice-cold as she took in the sight of Remy unconscious on the floor. Blood pooled around his head, and a blade stuck from his chest.
“No,” Fyra screamed as she rushed to him, sliding across the floor. She knelt beside him as more and more Fae sifted into the room.
“Get him to Eliran, now. We need him to wake up to tell us who took my son,” Ciara uttered as she slid down the wall. “He’s too small to protect himself,” she whispered through trembling lips.
“We will get him back,” Ryder snarled as he knelt beside her. She’d been in her own world, not noticing that everyone had sifted in between here and the stairs. Darynda sobbed as she watched Ciara, shaking her head as ice ran through her veins. “Enough; he isn’t dead. They’d want him alive to use against his father. We have to find him before they find his father and put him to use.”
Claiming the Dragon King Page 30
