AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"Have you been terribly bored,mo chroí?" Conall asked, but he was pouring his drink, and both Laszlo and I glanced at one another, Laszlo's cheeks coloring slightly. I knewmo chroí—"moh kree" as it sounded—was an old Gaelic endearment for "my heart," but I didn't know which of us he meant. Indeed, when he looked up again, his eyes bounced between us with a mischievous glint, leaving the question intentionally unanswered. "Hywel's no closer to waking?"
"I received a few words from him yesterday," Laszlo said, "but I think he was still dreaming."
I'd spent most of yesterday down in the cavern with Hywel, even napping with him, and I wondered when Laszlo had visited the dragon, since I'd never seen him there.
Conall's gaze steadied on me at last. "You look lovely tonight. Have you been reading her poetry, Laz?" Conall asked with false delicacy.
Laszlo's brow furrowed. "Poetry?"
I laughed and shook my head. "I am feeling much improved."
"Good," Conall said brightly. "But we mustn't grow lazy with your recovery. I'm sure you'd benefit from a great dealmorepleasure still."
There was no mistake in the words and their meaning. Where Asterion was careful to the point of withholding, Conall had all but made a direct offer. If I wanted pleasure, he would grant it. Laszlo's stare moved slowly between us, and I savored the heat of a blush that rinsed over my cheeks and chest.
"Thank you for your concern," I said, dipping my head.
Conall grinned, sharp canines gleaming in his wicked smile.
* * *
Laszlo triedto leave again after Conall and I had finished eating, but the wolf was wily and charming, and instead we found ourselves around the fire. I'd started on the opposite end of the couch as Conall, but somewhere after a third glass of wine I realized I'd been coaxed to his side, my head resting on his lap and long fingers stroking through my hair and down my arm, the wide collar of the gown I wore pushed down to bare one shoulder. His touch was hot and teasing, provocative without being explicit, and the wine left me relaxed.
Laszlo watched us from his armchair and Conall's touch soothed me, tying my tongue and keeping me from offering the gryphon a more comfortable seat with us on the couch.
Shadows started to wander through the room, an indistinct murmur of conversation, a few words of passion muttered by the fire, and my eyes drifted shut on the silhouette of lovers embracing on the carpet.
* * *
There wasno fireplace burning my cheeks, only the deep black of being underground without a window. The cushion beneath my side was not dense velvet and Conall's strong thigh, but the prickle and stench of moldering straw. The air was cold enough for me to see my breath, and the taste of it was stagnant and sour on my tongue.
My cell. Birsha's dungeon.
Thump. A step. A drag of flesh over stone. Thump.
My heart stuttered in my chest. I opened my mouth to cry out, and my throat screamed, sore and dry. My belly gaped and my muscles withered in my limbs, too weak to even protest as I tried to sit up. I remained limp, helpless, heartbeat picking up and then dropping away again with every heavy booted step on stone.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
I'd heard them coming, known them by the slow, expectant pace, by the snarls they drew up from the other cells. There were no snarls now. I was alone, defenseless, and abandoned, waiting for the next of my visitors to finally make their way to the door, to my pile of straw, to my purchased body.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
"No," I whimpered, trying to twist, to crawl away.
Thump.Shhhh.
I sobbed, managed a flail, and outside of my cell the endless, impossible step stuttered.
"No!" I cried out.
