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“You made them?”
Violet nodded. “For you. If you start your day with something sweet, then hopefully, it chases away the bitter dreams or nightmares.”
For a beat, Percy stared at the teenaged girl. She seemed so innocent, and caring, and many more emotions that the world would take advantage of and hurt her with.
Doesn’t her father see that and want to protect her?
Something stirred at the back of her mind, a tiny speck of purple light flashing at the same time, but then it died out. Percy searched, wondering if it was her dragon.Are you there? Do you remember me?
Silence.
Tears prickled her eyes, and she willed herself to keep them from falling. The guards and doctors had always liked it when she cried, and denying them had been one of the only ways she could say, “Fuck you,” to them.
Violet sighed and started to pull her hand back, then Percy plucked the biscuit from her. She sniffed, and the sugar-and-chocolate smell made her stomach rumble.
Her mouth watered, and she finally took a bite. The sweetness melted inside her mouth, a burst of pure bliss, and she quickly devoured the rest. Determined to get every last crumb, she licked her fingers. When done, she looked up to find that in addition to Layla and Violet staring at her, Bronx stood near the door, his pupils flashing rapidly.
Her cheeks burned. She hadn’t wanted him to see her moment of weakness. Now he’d probably use it against her.
Bronx cleared his throat, walked toward the plate of biscuits, and took one. After he finished it, he said, “These are all well and good, but you need some proper food, Percy. If you’re up to it, the refrigerator is stocked and waiting for you.”
“Did you poison or contaminate any of it?” Not that she expected him to be honest.
But the three dragon-shifters in the room all had looks of horror pasted onto their faces.
Violet was the first to speak. “No, Percy. I can taste any of it first, if you want. My dad sometimes calls me a seagull because I take bits and pieces from anything and everyone, so it’s not really anything different from normal.”
Bronx put a hand on his daughter’s shoulder and squeezed, but he didn’t say anything. Still, the small gesture and the way Violet grinned at her dad as they shared some sort of memory stirred jealousy inside Percy.
When she’d been younger, she was the perfect student. She’d kept to herself, stayed out of trouble, and earned good marks. And yet, none of that had mattered. She’d been sold to a bunch of sick bastards then continually punished each and every day for the last seven years.
Tears threatened to fall, and she willed them back. She wouldn’t cry in front of these people. She wouldn’t.
So she jumped out of bed, walked around them, and headed for the attached toilet. Once she was inside, she sat down, placed her head in her hands, and took deep breaths. She’d been so bloody good at keeping herself contained back at the facility, so why did unwanted emotions keep threatening to spill out now?
Something stirred in her mind but then died down.
After several minutes of deep breathing and pushing all her emotions deep, deep down inside her again, she did her business, washed her hands, and exited the toilet. Violet and Layla were chatting about something but stopped at her appearance.
Violet tilted her head. “Are you okay?”
With her inner shields back up, she shrugged. “Fine. Now, I want to eat. And yes, I need you to taste everything for me.”
Violet saluted. “At your service, Miss Percy.”
She almost smiled. Almost. “How old are you, Violet?”
“Fifteen. Why? How old are you?”
Yet another thing that would be inside her file anyway. “Twenty.”
Most of the time, she felt twice that, though, given her life experiences to date.
Violet motioned toward the door. “Let’s head to the kitchen. Layla’s going to stay a bit before she has to go back to the clan’s clinic. And if you have any questions for her, you can ask them.”
And as they walked out of the room and down the hall, Percy tried to come up with a list of questions. One of her priorities should be learning everything she needed to know to be a dragon-shifter in this country. Once she could handle her beast and shift, she would leave. And she was clever enough to know she wouldn’t survive with her current level of knowledge.
The more she asked, the better prepared she’d be. Even if she had no bloody idea where she’d make a home, at least she’d have her dragon. And at this point in her life, that was all she wanted.
