Warriors of Wind and Ash (Merciless Dragons #2)

I sink down onto the steps, silent, my eyes bone-dry and wide with a horror too deep for tears.

He killed them both. Right in front of me.

Killed them. A moment ago they were breathing, speaking, warm and living—and now they lie limp, tumbled onto the cobblestones, their eyes empty.

Rahzien lifts Ondette gently, like a man might lift his bride, and drops her into the fish pond. The immediate frenzy of fins and silvery bodies makes me sick. My mother stocked that pond, not with pretty, harmless goldfish, but with vicious razorfins. And they probably haven’t been fed in weeks.

Rahzien’s bare back flexes as he picks up Callim and flings him into the pond, too, with a splash of glittering drops.

Then the King comes to me, where I sit motionless, devastated. He drops to one knee and tips my face up to his.

There’s no admiration, no humor, no mercy in his gaze now, only an endless void.

“I value honest communication between us,” he says. “It’s something my family never had. I want you to understand how important it is to me.”

I stare at him, incapable of feeling anything but shock.

“Now you understand what will happen if you try to run,” he says quietly, almost comfortingly. “Not only to you, but to others. Have mercy on them, Spider. Don’t make me do this again. Come on, now—repeat your lessons. These words are meant to guide you. Accept them, believe them, and we won’t have to experience such unpleasantness again.”

Hoarsely I begin to whisper the phrases. “I did not save my people, nor can I save myself.”

“That’s right, Spider,” he murmurs, kissing my forehead with rough, warm lips. “Good girl.”

I don’t cry. Not even when I’m taken back to my room and left there for hours.

My mind is dull, hopeless, and hollow. Not a note of music anywhere in my soul. Even if someone came and filled the room with my favorite things, I wouldn’t have the heart to touch any of them. They would give me no joy at all. I physically can’t do anything except sit on the bed and gaze into nothing.

When evening approaches and Parma comes to my room to freshen my hair and makeup, I don’t speak to her, because I can’t form words. Nothing I could say has any meaning.

She brushes my hair, and plucks the loose strands free from the spines of the brush afterward.

Rahzien himself comes to fetch me for the feast. He’s carrying two objects of silver filigree.

“This one is a mask.” He fits it over the lower half of my face and locks it in place with a tiny key. “You’ll be able to open your jaws enough to speak a little, and your lips are left exposed in case anyone wants to kiss you, but no one can put their cock in your mouth unless I give them the key.”

I stare into the mirror, at the silver cage that entraps me from chin to cheekbones. A triangle of silver fits over my nose, and small silver teeth surround my lips, angling inward.

“Lift your foot, Spider. Now the other one.” He slides the second contraption up my legs until it fits around my hips, over my undershorts. Rahzien latches the contraption shut, runs his finger beneath the top edge to make sure it’s tight, and locks it with the same miniature key.

A triangle of silver filigree covers my pussy, while a thin band of silver runs between my legs and curves upward again between my ass cheeks, rejoining the belt at my lower back.

“This is a chastity belt. It works the same way as the mask, allowing limited access unless I gift someone the key,” he says. “Ingenious, isn’t it? I’m glad it fits. I wasn’t sure it would. It was made for someone else.”

Maybe he wants me to ask who wore it first. I couldn’t care less.

When I don’t respond, he peers into my eyes. Whatever he sees there must please him, because he smiles. “Come, Spider. Our guests are beginning to arrive. I’ll dine with them, and you’ll join us afterward. In the meantime, you and the other women will rehearse your entrance.”

He takes my hand as we walk the hallways of my home. My white dress parts in the front, flowing open, revealing the silver prison around my hips. I cast one sidelong look at Rahzien, clad in a gleaming white suit with a white satin half-cloak pinned to one shoulder. The key glistens on a silver chain around his throat.

I can’t bring myself to care about what will happen to me tonight. None of it matters.

“You’re my pet,” murmurs Rahzien.

“I’m your pet,” I repeat tonelessly. “I do as I’m told. When I do as I’m told, I receive good things.”

“Excellent.” He pauses, gesturing to a door. “I’ll continue on to the banquet hall. You’ll enter here and practice with the other girls. Be good. Don’t make me come and chastise you.”

“Yes, Master.”