Burning Vengeance
4.

"Does anyone in this God-forsaken place know how to knock?"

"Aw, come on. The night is over. Leave this used-up toy and spend time with a real woman instead." Celeste locks her arms around Alarik's neck and something painful twisted in Fay's gut. The dragon looks at her expectantly, probably wanting her to speak.

"Uh, Master. Is getting married a good idea?"

"What did you say?" Celeste storms over to her, but Alarik stops the dragon.

"She's my property, Celeste. You have no right. We're not even engaged."

"Well, not yet. But we will be, after tonight. Speaking of, half the castle's asking for you. It seems you've neglected some of your preparations."

Alarik grits his teeth as Celeste kisses him on the cheek. "Come, slave. Seems we have business to attend to."

"Leave her here. I'll go with you."

"No." Alarik sweeps out of his chambers at an alarming pace, leaving Celeste behind.

Fay runs to catch up to him. "So, you're going to propose to her?"

"No. She's the last woman I'd propose to. But she is one of several dragons vying for my hand. I have to choose one tonight at a betrothal ball."

"Tonight? That sounds impulsive. What's the rush?"

"If anything I've put it off for too long."

"Your Highness!" Alarik's pulled into a room where several tailors take his measurements. After awhile, he bats them off. When he reaches for the door, she moves to follow him, but he halts her.

"You stay here. I have.... other things to deal with." She opens her mouth to protest, but he shoves her into the arms of the tailor. "Take her measurements too. I want her shining tonight."

"Yes, Your Grace."

Alarik leaves and she stares after him as the dragons measure her from head to toe. Finished with their work, the tailors shuffle out of the room, locking it behind them. But they leave something behind: a small sewing needle on the ground.

She dives onto her knees in front of the door handle, picking the lock with the needle. The lock finally gives way, but just as the door opens, someone behind her grabs her wrist. "What are you doing?" She spins around to replace Alarik scowling down at her.

"Alarik, I was just going to come replace you."

"Uh-huh. I'm sure." He pulls her closer, forcing Fay to her feet. "When I leave you alone, I expect you to stay put."

She thinks he'll squeeze her wrist until it breaks, but he gently turns it over, placing two fingers upon it. "W-what are you doing?"

"As I suspected. Your pulse is weak." He runs his thumb over the fresh scrapes and cuts she got during the hunt, a low growl rumbling in his throat. "You realize you haven't eating anything since you got here?" The minute he says it, she feels it. Her stomach aches and her head throbs from the lack of food. Suddenly lightheaded, she sways on her feet. Alarik catches her. "Whoa, easy." He leads her to the couch, lowering her to sit.

There, in front of her, is a platter of steaming, savory food. She blinks in surprise. "You.... brought this for me?"

"Yes. I know it's not much, but it's what I could smuggle from the kitchens."

"But why? I'm just your slave."

"Have you forgotten? You're also my mate." The mark on her arm pulses at his words. She meets Alarik's piercing eyes over the sizzling plates of food. "I won't allow you to starve. Eat."

The meals in front of her are like nothing she's ever seen and her mouth waters. "Um, I think I'll pass, but thank you."

"Are you sure? You look pretty weak."

"I'm just too nauseous to try food right now. But I appreciate the gesture."

"Okay. Suit yourself."

There's a knock at the door. "It's almost time, Your Highness."

Alarik's familiar stoic demeanor returns as he rises off the couch and she follows. When they arrive back at his chambers, she's met with an array of stunning fabric, cascading like an iridescent rainbow across the room.

"I've never seen dresses like this. They look like they're made of rare metals."

"Some of them are."

She turns to look at Alarik and her breath catches. His custom suit clings to every curve of his muscular frame, accentuating the power and grace of his body. "Alarik, you look really handsome."

"Thank you. It's not something I prefer to wear, but I'm glad you like it." He smooths his hands over the gold brocade of his jacket, sighing heavily. "We'll both need to wear our clothes like armor tonight. Xander seems to be locked on you. He definitely suspects something between us." He drifts to the bandage that covers her Dragon's Mark. She shivers when he drags a finger over it.

".... why do you have to choose a wife tonight?"

"Why do you ask? Are you jealous?"

"No! I'm jut curious. It's a strange custom."

"Strange. I suppose that is a good word for it."

"And forgive me, but.... you don't seem like you want to get married."

Alarik turns away, but not before she catches the grim expression on his face. "I need to bear an heir, before...." his words trail off. He shakes his head, looking her up and down with renewed fire in his eyes. "... it's time you chose a gown. I'd prefer it to be long."

"Why?"

"Slaves are treated like accessories at events like this, forced into revealing, tight clothing. I'd rather you look.... different. Like more of an honored guest. You are the king's slave, after all." He eyes a rose gold gown that spills all the way to the floor. "Dignity, refinement, beauty... you're capable of all these things. I want women like Celeste to see that and cower in your shadow."

She selects a short dress from the rack.... but not too short. She coughs and Alarik turns to look at her, nodding. "I know it isn't much, but-"

"You look good, Fay. Just one more thing...." he walks to a cabinet and pulls something from it that tinkles gently in his hands. When he approaches her, he takes a key and unlocks her slave's collar.

"What's this? Are you afraid the collar clashes?"

"In a sense." The thick iron collar loosens with a sharp lurch and he lifts it from her neck. She feels 10 pounds lighter. "I'd like you to wear this instead." He holds up a thin, golden collar. One that looks far more like a necklace. "It's made of solid gold. I had it crafted for you." He wraps it around her throat. Compared to the iron collar, it feels as light as air.

"Th-thanks, it's-" but her words halt in her throat when she feels him clip a matching gold leash to the collar. "What? I am not a damn dog! I won't walk around on all fours and lick your palm, you perverted-"

"It's not about that. It's a custom. All slaves wear leashes at events like this. It's a symbol.... our status."

"It's a symbol of ownership and it's sick."

"You know I didn't choose this, for either of us." He threads the leash loosely through his palm, looking down at it with more disgust than her. "It's time. I'll try to make this night end quickly."

Unable to protest, she follows Alarik out the door, led by her short, golden leash. After a long, silent walk, they reach a set of double doors. They are thrust open upon his command.

She gasps when she's led into the massive, glittering ballroom. Acrobats swing from the high ceiling, through hoops of fire. Dragons dance, slaves attend, all in a swirling haze of finery. "This is like a dream."

"Or a nightmare. Depending on how you look at it." The crowd parts for Alarik as he strides into the room.

"Alarik. There you are." The leash in Alarik's hand tightens when he sees Celeste, who strides over in a tacky, over-the-top gown. "Doesn't your slave look.... cute." Celeste looks over at her new gold collar, her lip curled in jealousy.

"Thank you, Mistress."

"Learning her manners too."

"Yes. She's quite a replace."

Celeste watches Alarik get lost in looking at Fay and coughs pointedly. "And what do you think of me?"

"You look, uh, quite... shiny." Someone snorts at Alarik's comment. It's a slave, attached to a leash behind Celeste. She strikes him hard in the mouth.

"Agh!"

"One more word and I'll have your tongue cut out, Theo."

"Sorry, Mistress. I didn't mean to, it was-"

Celeste throws him to the ground and picks up a glass of wine from a passing slave. "You want to attend the party, laugh like a guest? Here. Have a drink." She extends her fangs and drips some of her painful venom into the glass. Then she holds it out to Theo. He stares at it in horror. "Come on, drink. It'll only hurt a lot."

"That's enough, Celeste."

"I'll handle my property, you handle yours."

"Please, Mistress. I'm sorry, I-"

She grabs Theo by the nose, pinching and tilting his head back. The poisoned glass nears his lips. Fay's whole body shakes as she watches helplessly. Celeste tips the wine into Theo's mouth.

When he starts to scream, Alarik sharply turns her away. "Don't look."

"I should have done something. I should have-" but she stops when she notices more and more people looking at them. "Alarik, we're drawing too much attention. Someone could notice the bandage and-"

"We'll just have to distract them then." He slips her hands around her waist, turning them masterfully until they're in the center of the dance floor. His steel gaze makes the rest of the room fall away. He strides toward her and she feels a jolt in her chest. "May I have this dance?"

"A dance, with me?"

"With you. Yes. It's a perfect distraction." With a wave of his hand, the music sours. Hundreds of dragons form a large audience around them. He draws her thin leash tighter, leaning down to whisper in her ear. "Dance with me, Fay." Alarik's large hands slide down to her hips and he starts to sway against her.

"I can't, Alarik. I'm sorry." She places a hand on his chest and gently pushes him away from her. She hears several onlookers whisper.

"It's okay, I can lead if you-" before Alarik can finish, several dragon women crowd around him, asking for a dance.

A guard takes Fay by the arm. "The king is busy. This way, slave."

The guard leads her over to a cushioned corner of the ballroom where several slaves sit unattended. She's shoved down on a pillow and her leash is tied to a post. Someone whispers beside her. "Hey. Fay, right?" It's Theo. Celeste's slave. There are burn marks on the corners of his mouth from the venomous wine. "I remember you from the hunt."

"I'm sorry I couldn't save you that day. I was scared."

"I understand. I would've been scared too." He places a kind hand on her arm. "We're in this together. If you ever need anything, please come to me, okay?"

"Thank you, Theo. That's-"

"What's this? Young, forbidden love?" Her heart pounds as Xander's cold, sarcastic voice slithers into her ear. "I'm sorry, boy. But I'm going to borrow your little girlfriend for a dance. After all, my slave is in a hospital bed. I have no one else to play with." He unwraps her leash and pulls on it hard, forcing Fay to her feet. As he leads her onto the dance floor, she looks around desperately for Alarik. But he's nowhere to be found. "Have you missed me, dear little Fay?"

"I've missed watching Alarik kick your ass."

"Are you trying to tell me you like it rough?" Xander pulls tight on her leash, throwing her into his arms. His hands slide down her hips. "Tell me. What is it that my dear friend Alarik sees in you? Is it this body of yours?" His hands move down toward her ass and she spins around to get away from him. And that's when she sees Alarik. He's dancing with a young dragonness, but his eyes sear into hers from across the room. Xander presses himself up against her from behind, his hand replaceing the slit in her skirt. "Looks like we have a royal audience. Let's give him something to look at."

"Xander, please-"

Xander bends her back into a low dip on the dance floor, licking a long path up her bandaged arm. Alarik tenses. "I forget. How did you get this bandage again?"

"We told you. I got it when Alarik punished me."

"Right. That's what you said. But is it true?" His slimy, cold fingers begin to pull at her bandage.

Her mark throbs painfully. Alarik stops dancing altogether, watching in horror from across the room. She feels other eyes on her too. Every dragon and slave in the ballroom is staring as Xander tugs at her thin layer of protection.

Rooted to the spot, completely overwhelmed with fear, she watches as Xander lifts her bandage.

But right before he's able to see what's underneath, someone slams into him from the side. "Run, Fay! Now's your chance!

Xander hits the floor. Taking her chance, she runs past him, stepping on his hand in the process. "Agh! You'll pay for that!" He advances on her, along with several grunts. She pushes past the crowd, past Alarik and sprints out the back door. "Get her!" Xander's gruesome voice echoes through the halls as she runs blindly for her life.

Finally, she sees a door. It has to lead outside. She flings it open, but the exit is a sheer mountain cliff. Harsh wind and lashing rain pushes her toward the edge. She backs up, hearing guards' footsteps grow closer and closer.

"Fay! Are you okay?" She whips around to replace Celeste standing behind her. The dragon gives her a sympathetic frown. "My dear. You're shaking."

"M-Mistress, please. I didn't mean. Xander-"

"Xander again? That horrible beast. Come here."

Fay wants to run, but she can't. Celeste pulls her into her arms, safely away from the ledge. "Men are terrible, aren't they? They can't be trusted with anything."

"They aren't all alike."

"No, but they all have the same vices. Drink, games..... and pretty little girls." Slowly, Celeste's sharp claws dig into her back. "It's best to take those distractions away, don't you think?" With a twisted red smile, Celeste shoves Fay off the edge of the cliff.