The Dragon King’s Substitute Bride
Chapter 21

HERA

I remember what it is like to run for your life.

The only thing faster than the force and speed at which your feet hit the floor is the racing of your pounding heart; loud and brutal in your ear as it struggles to pump enough blood through your veins in an effort to keep up with your unrelenting speed. Trying your best to avoid stumbling because falling would mean certain doom and it was not an option you could afford, yet having no time to look at the rapidly changing, uneven treacherous floor disappearing beneath your feet. The air around you suddenly starts to feel thicker, almost like you are struggling to cut your way through it, to fight against its resistance and get away from the monsters that are coming after you.

Your muscles want to cramp up from exhaustion but you push through the pain and the fear and keep running because you know that should you dare to stop, it is all over.

And as Midas stands in front of me, dangerous energy radiating of him in waves, I know that soon, this is what I will have to do.

I do not want to.

He is glaring and talking through his teeth at the woman who is not really a woman.

I do not know her kind.

She has narrow pointed ears like the Fae from my mother stories and her skin is alabaster porcelain, as white as the elves they say inhabit the realm below the dragon's realm yet she and the creatures with her are different. They have runes and sigils similar to but not quite like that which the healers of Averia used to draw.

The marks squirm and wriggle in flickering colors of jade and sickly amber beneath their skin and when the one who is their leaders speaks, her scarlet red mouth stretches in that unnerving smile like a stain across the stark paleness of her beautiful face and when her lips part slightly open.

Skies above

I fight a shudder at the deadly sharpness of her teeth, involuntarily imagining her sinking those deadly fangs into my neck, draining me of my blood and my life force.

It is not a picture I wish to think about again.

I want to look away from her but it is almost like I am under some sort of spell.

My hands hang limply by my sides, mouth dry, heart pounding even as my mind cries, screams for me to look away before I lose myself completely.

But I cannot bring myself to do anything besides stare at her. My mind no longer has any control of my body.

I cannot even close my eyes.

I exist simply to gaze on her malignant perfection, to please her, to feed her.

I replace myself remembering the tales we were told as children.

Only one form of sorcery in all the realms has the ability to induce hypnosis.

But why would creatures that look like elves be in possession of dark magic from the shadow realm?

Then he steps in front of me, an act of protection that surprises me.

His actions completely cut me off so I am no longer looking directly at her and the spell instantly breaks.

I gasp lightly, one hand flying to clutch at my chest.

It is almost like emerging out of a smoke filled haze and I feel bile rise to the back of my throat.

I struggle push it down and focus on the solid wall of muscle standing between me and that monster, for I have since concluded that is what she is.

His voice is calm and disinterested even though I can tell she is trying to provoke him.

Somehow looking directly at her places me under some hex that apparently has no effect on him.

But I can see in the way he holds his hands to keep from clenching into fists that though he hides it well, her words are getting to him.

And when she points her finger at him and does whatever she does to him, he doesn't cry out but I can see the pain in his stance, in the way the muscles of his shoulder clench and tighten.

I want rest my head against the firmness of his back and wrap my arms around him.

Which I realize is an odd way to feel about someone I loathe with every fiber of my being.

Gods above, what is happening to me?

I bite my lip and stare at his back.

There are rips in the fabric of his shirt and through it I can see rapidly fading scars, surrounded by red inflamed skin and somehow I just know.

That the wounds healing even before my very eyes at a speed beyond normal, had been where those magnificent dark wings, now long vanished, had initially torn out of his skin.

I know I should have been frightened of them and of him, and maybe for a moment, when I first saw them, large and looming, a wide span of colorful iridescent darkness blocking out the moonlight behind him, I was.

But as he held me cradled against him in the air, my fear became awe and when he lowered me to the ground, refusing to meet my eyes, my awe became curiosity.

I wanted nothing but to feel its texture beneath my hands, to brush my fingers against it, to touch it.

To touch him.

The same feeling courses through me even now as I watch him struggle with a pain I do not understand. So I give in.

I reach out, hands shaking to place my hand on his arm. I feel incredibly stupid.

What was I thinking? That he cared one wit for the touch of some human slave girl?

You're trying to tell him he's not alone. And maybe your touch doesn't manage to erase the fact that you're standing there shivering like a coward behind him, utterly helpless but you hope it's helping in some way. I know what my mind is telling me is true but I refuse to believe it.

Because why would I want to help the King whose Ryders attacked my home realm murdered my family?

I'm so focused on this tiny new piece of information, I don't even hear her ask me a question but Midas does.

"Speak to her again Hermani and blood bond or not I will cut out your tongue"

The defensive, possessing way he utters those words, like I am something more than just the slave who tricked him, does something to my insides and my knees that I do not wish to feel.

I know he does not mean anything, by it, not truly anyway but even knowing that does nothing to stop my heart from soaking up the words.

She does it again, pointing and twisting her finger at him and this time he groans and nearly doubles over.

I yell at her to make it stop but she merely laughs at me, enjoying the agony splayed on his features. I

And when I look at him, it's almost like he isn't here anymore.

I know that look.

He has gone somewhere, somewhere in his head, in his memories that he does not wish to be.

"Midas...Midas, please come back to me."

His eyes snap back and focus on me like a man drowning.

Dazed, searching and filled with so much pain it makes a tiny part of my chest hurt.

And in that moment I hate her for doing this to him.

But there is something else there, a message passed in that that brief second when our eyes meet.

His pupils are dilated and the golden orbs are rimmed with red.

I can tell he's fighting to retain control of his rage. I just don't understand why.

But the message is so clear I can almost hear his voice in my head.

It nerves me how easy it is for me to read him.

His eyes are asking me if I remember.

They are asking me if I am ready to run.

I hope mine tell him the message running through my head.

That I have been running for as long as I can remember.

That it is all I know how to do.

And when he throws the dagger with alarming, sudden speed, instantly killing the elf blocking the direction through the trees that he said was closest to the edge of the forest, I am ready. I don't even take one last look at his beautiful face.

But as I tear through the forest, headed in as straight line as I can manage, I realize I don't want to run anymore.

I know he is immortal but he can still get hurt. I don't want to leave him alone to face whatever those creatures are.

It is my fault that we are here anyway.

I also know it is no use going back. I would only be a distraction to him.

But what's worse is that I would definitely be killed and I could not afford to die.

Not before getting my revenge on all the people responsible for putting me in this situation.

The debt collectors who had driven us from our home, the royal house of Averia, and the ruler of the 5th realm to whom I now belonged.

Maybe that is why I do not want him to get hurt at the hands of those monsters.

Because I want to be the one who hurts him the most.

Too late I hear something behind me, advancing at a speed greater than my own.

I try to run harder but I am no match for whatever they are.

I shout in fear seconds before a blinding flash of white hot pain sears through my side and I am knocked off my feet and sent flying into the side of a tree.

It knocks the wind out of me and I am unable to even muster up the energy to scream a second time.

Groaning and clutching the side where they had struck me, I roll unto my back on the muddy forest floor.

I must be near the edge of the forest. There are no trees directly overhead.

What a beautiful moon.

A shadow falls over me and the moon disappears behind it.

Claws extended, the tall shadow opens it mouth to reveal terrifyingly sharp teeth, runes of dark magic dancing beneath its stark white skin.

I feel a tear roll down the side of my face, salty wetness on my cheeks and I drag myself up to a sitting position, back resting against the tree I had hit.

At the very least, I would get to see my family again.

Then a flash of blinding light rents the shadow in half, black blood sprays and the elf guard crumbles in two separate gory parts to the floor.

I am still unable to move and I stare unblinking at my savior.

My knight in shining Chief dragon Ryder amour.

He stands over me, his sword shining silver in the full glare of the moon.

"Where is the King?"