AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I study him warily. “Why can’t you expose it?”
“Because it would make me even more of a target.”
“A target?” I think of how valuable and rare dragon parts are in the Crossroads. Scales, tears, blood, even toenails. I know several treasure hunters in the Crossroads who would kill for a score like that. Uziah’s guys, especially.
Still… this is Legion.
I can’t see a single one of them getting the upper hand against him.
“I don’t understand,” I say. “Everyone in Tartarus knows you’re a dragon, and they haven’t targeted you for it. Hell, you’re the general of an entire army. I’m pretty sure no one’s coming for someone in your position.”
“It’s not about being a dragon.”
“What is it about?”
“My blood, specifically.”
“I don’t?—”
“I was sired by a god and birthed by a demon.”
“You…” It takes me a second to recover from that one. “Your father was a god?”
“A good one, from what I’m told.” He lifts a brow. “Is it so shocking that I might have some good in me?”
I feel my cheeks flush, and I glance away. “I only meant it is an unlikely pairing, a demon and a god,” I explain.
“Yes, apparently, my father was under the mistaken impression my mother was a fire fae. He didn’t discover her true nature—or intentions—until after she conceived.”
“You mean she tricked him into getting her pregnant?”
“That’s her favorite part of the story.”
“Why?”
“My mother cares about nothing and no one apart from power. For centuries before I was born, she razed civilizations, cut down her opposition, and took entire peoples as slaves to serve her. But it wasn’t enough. Humans were too easy to conquer. She wanted supernatural kingdoms. When she realized she could go no farther in her domination without help, she began to seek a tool of destruction to accomplish her goals. Since a weapon like me didn’t exist to her satisfaction, she decided to breed one herself.”
“Wow, she sounds lovely.”
He grins crookedly. “Where do you think I get my charm?”
I snort, but my amusement dies quickly. “Are you saying your demon mother made sure you’re more like her than your father?”
“I’m saying that was her intention, yes.” His tone is sharp, twisting with a self-deprecation matched in his gaze. “Dark magic was involved in making me. Helping to shape my qualities and my gifts to her liking. She only needed his seed. And his DNA. She bent everything else to her own will. She made me what I am.”
“And what is that, exactly?”
“The death dragon, of course.” Bitterness coats his words. “The monster of nightmares, apparently.”
My anger softens as the darkness in his eyes is finally recognizable: self-loathing. “Do you think you’re a monster?” I ask.
His gaze snaps to mine. “Do you?”
“Do I think you’re a monster?”
I’m tempted to offer a quick and definitive yes. That would be the obvious answer given all the stories about him—and the things he’s just essentially admitted to doing. But for some reason, it doesn’t feel quite so obvious anymore. Or true.
“I don’t know how to answer,” I hear myself say. “The rumors about you…”
