The Dragon King’s Substitute Bride
Chapter 60

HERA

I HATE HIM

Gods above, I hate him so much.

I cannot believe that there had been a moment...moments, where I had ever considered him to be anything more than a cruel, heartless king.

And what in all the realms did he mean by warnings?

What warnings?

Could it be...

I cease my pacing around the room and my blood runs cold.

Could it be that he knows the real reason why I had agreed to this sham marriage in the first place?

Why I had accepted my fate without fighting, why I had not even attempted to escape or run away from the palace that night before the wedding in Averia. Could it be that he somehow knows?

I shake my head, willing the thought to go away. "No... he can't know."

If he did, if he had even the slightest inkling of my real reasons for coming into his realm, I have no doubt he would have killed me by now.

So he can't know.

But then his words come back to me again.

The conversation playing itself over and over again in my head in some sort of endless, infinite loop until the words are seared into my brain and anger pushes everything else into the back ground "You are trouble Hera, coming into my castle, changing things. I can smell it, sense it, even without the warnings of the kingmakers."

Trouble... I'm trouble?!!

The one dragged from her realm and forced to marry the man she hates most is the one who he calls trouble?

Oh he has no idea what trouble really is.

Not yet.

When they had told me, that day in throne room, that I was to take the princess Cassiopeia's place and be wed against my wishes to the man responsible for destroying my realm, a part of me had died inside. The thought of leaving the only home I had ever known and turning my back on my brother, the only family I had left without so much as a last goodbye was more than my heart could bear.

But as I had lain in bed that night, weeping quietly to the sound of chirping crickets and noisy, croaking frogs outside of my window, I had realized something.

A thought, like a tiny flame of white light, pierced through the fog of my hopelessness

And like a phoenix rising from the ashes of my broken heart, that single thought, had been the only reason, the one thing that had kept me from losing myself completely.

The dragon king may be immortal and powerful beyond a mere human's comprehension, but he is still a being created by the gods.

And as with every one of their creations, for everyone the gods have gifted with immense power, there is and would always be a weakness.

Some sort of loophole that could weaken them, something that could take away their powers, something that could destroy them forever.

I came into the dragon realm with this one aim bundled tightly to my chest, keeping me warm against the cold harshness of what had seemed like a very bleak reality.

To replace the dragon king's weakness, to hurt him exactly the way he had hurt my people, to destroy him forever.

But then...then he had come for me in that forest.

Even after I had lied to him and ran us straight into danger he had come for me, had saved me.

Had made me begin to doubt everything I had been so absolutely certain of before the first time I ever looked into those liquid gold pools.

And yet, everything that had previously made me unsure seems to have disappeared in the space of one afternoon.

I think about the look in his eyes when he had asked me who I was and what I was hiding.

Cold and unfeeling...exactly like the first time, the day of our return from Averia, when he had discovered that I was not who I claimed to be.

It hurts...to see him look at me that way again.

It actually bloody hurts.

But more than that, it makes me angry.

Because who in Hades does he think he is to threaten me and ask for answers to questions that threatened to take me back to memories I would much rather forget, memories I had buried in the shadows of my mind? How dare he make me feel like a criminal when he is to one who is to blame for everything?

I exhale shakily, feeling the first throes of a budding headache beginning to sprout its ugly wings.

Everything, all this pacing and thinking, switching from anger and fear to hurt and then back to anger again is beginning to make me immensely exhausted.

I keep waiting to hear a knock at the door.

No, not waiting, wanting...wanting terribly for him to come back, to change his mind, to understand me.

But my door stays closed, lifeless.

No one comes, not even Henette.

I can feel myself starting to panic.

Did he change his mind about having Henette bring up my meals?

Perhaps he now intends to starve me to death or until I break and give him the answers he seeks.

Gods, he really is heartless.

And I have been the great fool.

The one who let herself be deceived by the way he had kissed me, like a man starving, obsessed.

The one who let herself get lost in the heat of our bodies moving together, each curves and angle falling into place like we were made to fit against each another.

The one who had let herself get lost in his beautiful eyes and started to foolishly believe that maybe everything would somehow be okay.

A

quiet voice, tiny and unsure... Why don't you just tell him?

"I can't! I just can't!!"

I am aware that I am yelling but I do not care.

The yelling helps; helps to scratch at the raw itchiness that I feel, helps to drown out the voice in my head asking me to trust him.

I sit on my bed, shaky hands holding my head. "I just....can't"

And it is not just because he might think me insane or a liar.

But telling him the truth would mean admitting to something I have tried so hard...so bloody hard to deny.

A secret so heavy and dark, I hid it away, pretended it never happened.

And If I have to say those words out loud, to give him the answer he is asking for, it would rip open a wound that is much too fresh, much too raw and it would leave me bleeding and exposed, the darkest parts of my past laid bare. Read more free novels at Ebookex.com

I have fought so hard, for so long to crawl out of that place, that memory and if I had to go back to it, I do not think I will be able to return again.

I wipe at the tears threatening to fall.

"Enough Hera. No more tears. Not for him."

Deep breaths...in and out...until I can finally breathe without feeling like I am on the verge of dissolving into a pool of tears.

The bell rings out for the seventh time as if mocking my predicament.

The grey sky has already begun to turn a deep inky blue, and the moon, a single round diamond has taken its place high up in the night's sky, casting brilliant light on some areas while throwing the far corners of my room into semi-dark shadows. Much like my heart.

Still, no one has come and angry or not, my stomach is beginning to make little un-lady like noises.

I look out the window, at the main courtyard far, far below at the little people walking about the castle grounds.

Ryders and workers that do not live in the castle are heading home for the day.

Heading home, unafraid even though it already almost dark, to their loving families and giggling children, to bowls of hot soup and warm beds and pleasant dreams.

Everything I had been denied of for so many years.

And as I watch them, I feel the strangest of urges to scream, to shout at the top of my voice until someone hears me.

But I know it will be no use.

Even if they heard me, no one would care.

And I have never felt more alone in my entire life than I do right at this moment.

I turn away from the window.

If this is his intention, then I am not about to make this easy for him.

He thinks that I am going to just sit here quietly and starve to death or lose my mind well have I got a surprise in store for him.

I have no plans of running away, not before I get my revenge, but I also do not plan on telling him anything.

So I need to make sure I can leave this room, one way or the other.

I glance back at my window and dismiss the idea immediately.

It is much too high up although if it eventually came down to it, I could always tie together a rope from my wonderful new clothes and lower myself down.

But it is much too risky, not to mention extremely stupid, seeing as I cannot possibly get revenge if I am lying at the feet of some tower with my neck snapped in two. Unless of course mother was right and ghosts are real.

In which case the dragon king had better be prepared to be haunted for the rest of his goddamn immortal life.

This leaves me only one real option.

I steel my nerves and walk cautiously to the door, raising my fists and rapping loudly on the hard surface.

No one answers.

I knock again.

"Garwith... Leo...anybody?"

But the only response I get back is cold silence.

He must think me so completely helpless, so utterly at his mercy locked in here that he has not even bothered to station someone outside of my door.

The corners of my mouth lift in a cold smile.

His mistake.