Mate Of A Dragon Villain (Skeleton Key)

by Mandy Rosko

  Amanda finished up. There was something that looked like it could be toilet paper beside her on a wicker stand, so she used it.

  It was pretty gross and flaked off. Amanda needed to wash her hands in the sink when she finished, and she thanked God one more time for the running water. She just wished she written this world to have better toilet paper.

  Her guard nodded. “Good, now come with me.”

  “Do you know why I’m being locked up?”

  Her guard said nothing, he just put his hand on her back and guided her away from the water room, back to her tiny cell.

  “What happened with Alger? Is he alive? When will Eldric want to talk to me?”

  Her guard glanced down at her. “He lives,” he said. “The king will speak to you when he’s ready and not one moment before.”

  That didn’t sound good. How the hell was she supposed to explain how innocent she was when Eldric didn’t want to talk to her?

  Others walked through the halls. Dragon men, warriors who wore chainmail and kept their swords loose at their hips, along with maids and young boys who occasionally pushed through these parts. Almost everyone had wings protruding out of the backs of their clothes. Some people didn’t have wings. They either had pointed elf ears and dark eyes, or nothing overly special about them at all.

  Those were the humans.

  “How much longer do I have to wait?” Amanda asked. In books, it was easier. She could write in a quick transition scene while mentioning that several long, boring hours had gone by. It wasn’t the same as being forced to sit in a room where her only form of entertainment was to count the thread in her scratchy blankets.

  Blankets that itched like there were bugs in them.

  And it took a long time before she got desperate enough to start doing that. Long, boring, long hours.

  Despite her fear of being summoned, she was desperate for it just to get a change of pace. This was driving her up the wall.

  “Don’t bang on the door anymore,” her guard snapped in that same gruff voice he’d used before, slamming the door shut behind him, so hard and loud Amanda was stunned he hadn’t left a huge crack in the thick wood.

  Amanda was tired, but didn’t want to sit on that bed, or lie down on it, and her feet were starting to ache from standing and pacing so much. She was antsy in a way she wasn’t used to. She wanted to bang on the door again just to have someone to talk to, even if her guard would only yell at her to cut it out.

  Stupid skeleton key and her stupid editor and deadlines making her have this stupid hallucination. Wake up! She needed to wake up!

  Amanda paced the room five more times, concentrating on her new goal to returning to the real world, but that didn’t happen. She contemplated shrieking in a rage and throwing the small stool against the door, smashing it to pieces so she’d have something to take her anger out on, but she didn’t do it. The thing that stopped her was the tiny scratching noise that came from her window.

  Amanda frowned and turned her head, no longer ignoring the noise like she’d been doing without intending to.

  She jumped back at the sight of glowing red eyes staring at her, shrieked a little, and tripped over the chair she’d been planning on throwing at the door.

  She fell down, hard. It was a small miracle she didn’t break her collarbone or any of the bones in her hand.

  When she looked up again at the thin window, the eyes were gone.

  Amanda panted for breath, her heart slamming up into her throat, and the door opened.

  The big, dark-haired warrior pushed half his body into the room and looked around. He spotted her on the floor. “What the hell was that?”

  Amanda couldn’t think, and for a split second, she had to remind herself how to speak, too.

  “I, uh, tripped over the stool.”

  She quickly righted herself, putting the stool back into its proper position and jumping up into a stand. “I’m okay.”

  The guard stared at her, his brows drawn together in a frown. He slammed the door open and went to the window. He pulled something from his pocket that almost looked like one of those annoying selfie sticks she hated so much, but then she saw what it really was and what was on the end of it.

  Not a phone, but a mirror. There was a mirror on the end of that stick and he was pointing it out the thin window to have himself a good look around.

  Amanda froze. Her body seemed to be recalling the threat Eldric had made if he found out she was associated with his enemy, and she waited with held breath for the guard to turn back and look at her with those accusing eyes.

  Amanda turned to the door. The guard had left it open. She could run, but there were a lot of people out there who would see her and stop her.

  But it was probably a lot safer out there.

  The guard grunted. Amanda jumped. He turned to look at her, his expression more annoyed than the last time, but he didn’t look like he was about to kill her.

  Amanda’s spine went an extra level of straight as he walked by, all big and growly and mean, one large hand on the sword at his hip in a telling way.

  “Keep quiet,” he said, then slammed the door again. This time, Amanda thought he really did leave behind a crack in the wood.

  She blew out a hard breath. She wasn’t going to survive this.

  Another light scratching noise, and a hiss. Amanda didn’t want to look, but she did.

  Glowing red eyes. They were back. He was back. He stared at her, but he said nothing. Amanda said nothing either. She looked down at her feet. Her still bare feet that were cold on the stone floor.

  “Come here!” Hargreave said, his voice low and hissing.

  Amanda shook her head, biting her lips together. “You’re not real.”

  “Woman, come here, now.”

  Amanda glared at him. “I have a name.”

  Hargreave adjusted himself. She didn’t know what he was hanging onto, but he seemed to be struggling to keep some of his balance where he was.

  “Then by all means, come here and tell me what it is.”

  Amanda rolled her eyes. She approached the window, but she remembered his spear, how long it was, and still made sure there was a good ten feet between them. “My name is Amanda.”

  “Amanda,” he said, grinning brightly, as though even saying the name was a treat to be savored.

  Amanda didn’t know why that made her feel so light and warm in her stomach.

  Hargreave reached his arm through. About as much as he could, considering his bicep was wider than the narrow window itself.

  Amanda nearly went to him. She forced her knees to lock into place before she could do it, but it felt wrong. Her body itched and the desire to go to him was strong. It was almost like fighting an instinct.

  Not that she would let him know that. She looked at his outstretched hand, then at him, as if the gesture meant nothing. “What?”

  Hargreave clenched his fist before stretching out his fingers again. “Let me touch you.”

  Yes.

  Amanda shook her head. “No way.”

  Hargreave growled, but he must have realized she was serious because he pulled back, a light scowl still on his face. “Did he hurt you?”

  He was talking about Eldric. Amanda shook her head. “No.”

  “Did he touch you?”

  “Well, yeah, of course he had to.”

  The red in Hargreave’s eyes brightened as his lips pulled back in a fierce scowl, revealing his white, pointed teeth.

  Amanda realized her mistake. “Oh, you mean…no, not like that. I meant when he picked me up and carried me away.”

  The scowl on Hargreave’s face didn’t diminish. Amanda could feel the anger and raw hate vibrating off this man. She’d never felt anything like that before, and she considered herself to be incredibly empathetic towards other people’s feelings.

  “I’ll get you out of here. I swear it.”

  Amanda’s heart skipped at the promise, but she shoved the feeling away, squash
ing it down before she could make something out of it that wasn’t there. “Why do you care? You’re the bad guy.”

  Those red eyes widened, and that had been Amanda’s next mistake.

  “I’m not trying to be mean about it, but you’ve done some pretty shitty things. You’ve killed people. Why would you care about me?”

  “Is that why you won’t come near me?”

  “Well, yeah, pretty much.”

  Through the long but thin window frame, Amanda watched Hargreave’s lips turn thin. She heard the rustle of his wings before he pushed himself away from the window, as though jumping from the tall ledge.

  “No!”

  Amanda rushed to the window, staring out of it as she tried to find Hargreave’s body in the air.

  Of course she wouldn’t be able to see him. He was smarter than that. He wouldn’t be flying towards the moon right above his enemy’s castle. He’d get shot down in an instant. There was no moon or stars out that night at all, which had probably made it easier for him to sneak onto enemy territory.

  Whenever Amanda had been writing his character, the fact that he had black wings and dark skin had been helpful to his nightly raids.

  Now she was left standing there by the window, wishing he was brighter so she could see him flying away. So she could see if he would come back.

  Chapter 4

  Stupid. Stupid and foolish of him to have left her there like that. Of course she would think him a monster. Why would he be insulted by such a thing? He’d done monstrous things, but he was not a monster. It did not come close in comparison to what Eldric and his father had done, and he’d left her there, no warning of what to expect. No nothing. He wanted to go back, to fly to his woman and explain, but he couldn’t. From his landing place, far enough in the distance that he wouldn’t be easily seen spying on the castle, he could see that someone had come to take her from her holding cell. His eyes were good, so he could see it even from his perch so far away, and even through a window small enough to be a nuisance to arrows.

  Now he was forced to watch and wait for the right time. If Eldric hurt his queen, just one hair on her head, Hargreave would rain down hell on him, no matter the cost.

  He thought of his mother, nailed to that cross, her body rotting, and he couldn’t stand the idea of something like that happening to the woman with the blue-tipped hair. Hargreave clenched his fists, his body itching for war. He was jumping out of his skin. Something needed to be done. He readied his spear, spread his wings, and took to the skies once more.

  Eldric had called for her. Almost immediately after Hargreave left her, the door opened again, and for the third time, that annoyed-looking hulk of a man came into her room. He sighed, half rolled his eyes, and announced the king wanted to see her before he grabbed her by the arm and yanked her so roughly out of there that her feet barely touched the stone floor.

  “Hey!” Amanda struggled, but she couldn’t exactly fight against him. He was too strong. She might as well have been a five-year-old pulling against a parent’s hand, and when they got out into the hallway, there were other guards waiting to escort her.

  Eldric couldn’t really think she was so dangerous, could he?

  She tried not to look back at all the men behind her, with their huge muscles and sharp weapons, tried not to feel their eyes glaring into the back of her head. Some of them were muttering amongst each other.

  “Where did she come from?”

  “Whore of the enemy.”

  “Hargreave’s little bitch.”

  She was going insane. People in the world she’d written about were insulting her and calling her nasty names. That wasn’t normal. None of this was the least bit normal.

  Then Amanda realized where they had to be going. She expected to be brought to the throne room. She was going to see it with her own eyes. The excitement of being able to see that place for herself—the tall, stone, arched ceiling, the sweeping blue banners, and the gold trimmed dragons and griffins, took away her fears and worries about her mental health for a moment.

  She wasn’t taken to the throne room. Amanda had only ever imagined this castle in her head as she’d been writing in the details, but while some things felt different than she’d imagined them, she was pretty sure they weren’t going to the throne room.

  The halls would have opened up, become wider, and there would have been way more people than what she was seeing. There was a distinct feeling of more comfort around her. A carpet had suddenly appeared after they’d gone up another flight of chilly stone stairs, which was welcome on her cold feet, and the torches had slowly become electric lights, but they were definitely not close to the throne room.

  Also, the people she did see weren’t just castle maids and apprentices. The maids wore white this time, with white little caps on their heads.

  There was extra security around one door in particular, and Amanda heard murmured voices before they made it there.

  When she and her guards rounded the corner, Amanda’s eyes flew wide at what she saw.

  Alger was in bed, propped up, his wings stretched out on either side of him and held up with stands and pillows, while nurses gently dabbed a cream into the cuts and slits, trying to encourage healing so he might one day be able to fly again.

  Eldric was beside him, and his hand was on Alger’s cheek, barely touching because of the long, jagged cut, but the way his fingertips grazed against the unblemished part of his skin was telling. The king’s eyes stared intently down at the man in a way that was more than just brotherly affection.

  A lot more.

  Alger stared at Eldric with a similar expression on his face, his mouth slightly red and plump. They looked like they’d just been kissing.

  Holy hell. When she’d been writing them, Amanda sure as hell hadn’t pictured this.

  Amanda’s guard cleared his throat. “Sire, here she is.”

  Eldric barely glanced away from Alger, then he stood straight and faced her. He didn’t step away from Alger’s side. He didn’t so much as put a foot of distance between them, as if that was his place. Right there.

  Amanda’s guard didn’t sound so shocked to see his king cheating on his queen. Amanda hadn’t written this in at all. Eldric was supposed to love and adore Jane. They were meant for each other. They were supposed to be soul mates. Why was he looking at Alger like that?

  Holy shit. Had that been why she’d had such a hard time with this series? Because all this time she’d been writing with M/M characters and didn’t realize it? King Eldric was gay this whole time and he’d been in love with his best friend from childhood and…

  That actually sounded like a better, more compelling story than what she’d written for him. Fuck.

  Oh, right. Eldric was staring at her, arms crossed and looking not too impressed.

  Amanda tensed. “Uh, you wanted to see me?”

  It felt like a fist punched her in the back, shooting her forward. Amanda barely caught herself from falling over.

  “Hey!” she snapped at the man behind her.

  “I barely touched you, and show some respect for His Majesty.”

  Dickhead.

  “Sir Garrison, please no more of that,” Alger said.

  With one last glare at her, Garrison backed off.

  “Sir Garrison was merely doing his duty,” said the soft voice of an older man in the room.

  Amanda hadn’t noticed him before. She’d been too caught up in Eldric and Alger. He wore fine clothes, mostly white robes with blue shields and swords and dragons sewn into them.

  He also looked like he was over a hundred years old.

  That had to be Udolf, Eldric’s adviser and the best friend of his father. Amanda felt better already now that he was in the room. He might be sticking up for the guy that had shoved her, but Amanda had written him to be fair and good. Before Jane, he was the one who kept Eldric from losing himself to the rage and anger of war.

  “Alger wanted to thank you himself,” Eldric said, glanci
ng at Udolf. “And so did I.”

  Amanda looked Alger over, noted his wounds, and his wings. “You’re looking pretty good, considering it’s only been a couple of hours. I’m glad you’re all right.”

  She meant it. It was a miracle he was awake at all, not to mention sitting up, but as for everything else, he still looked bruised and ripped up. Landing against all those rocks had done a number on him.

  Alger smiled softly, then winced, and put his mouth back in a neutral position. “You saved my life. Why did you do that?”

  She felt like a squirrel looking at the tire of a car that was about to run her over. “What?”

  Eldric reached down and touched Alger’s shoulder. Again, not some graphic show of affection, but what it was spoke volumes.

  “Alger tells me that when he wasn’t breathing, he still felt as though he was trapped in his body, like a living death. He said he felt you come to him, and he felt the way you put air into his lungs and brought his heart back to life. Had it not been for him, I would have continued to think of you as just another enemy of Alzriandra.”

  “I would still warn caution on that,” Udolf said softly.

  “I’m not an enemy of your country,” Amanda said, shaking her head quickly and trying not to glance at the guards who were still behind her.

  She was starting to rethink her opinion of Udolf, especially with the way he kept looking at her like she might be getting ready to spring.

  “Then explain to me why it was that Hargreave, this country’s greatest threat and enemy, was defending you so viciously. You were in his arms in the sky,” Eldric said.

  Amanda was silent, though her heart slammed around in her ears. She thought about the skeleton key, how it seemed to have brought her here, but the fact that she didn’t have it to give any form of evidence over what happened put her in a pretty bad spot. What the hell was she supposed to say to all this?

  “Your silence does not help you,” Eldric said. Alger reached a bandaged hand out and touched Eldric’s wrist. They glanced at each other, then back at her. Eldric sighed and rolled his eyes. “An explanation would be welcome, my lady.”