There were no words, just a deep humming that started with Benedict. He began with a low note, a resonating vocalization that vibrated the floor and sent goosebumps racing up my arms. The other drakens picked up his note until it felt like I was being consumed by it, drowning in a sea of sound as hundreds of drakens sang in unison. Benedict grasped my hand in his left, and he placed his other hand gently on the side of my face. His pitch changed, and half of the drakens changed theirs with him. I focused on the rough edges of his scales against my skin and closed my eyes.
The wide, open harmony had me on edge, clearing the nausea from my mind and allowing me to think clearly. His lips placed a chaste kiss on my forehead and each of my cheeks, all the while he kept up his drone. Didn’t he need to breathe at some point? As he finished, D’Arcy raised a hand, and Benedict changed his pitch again. This time, no one joined him, instead maintaining their own notes.
Outwardly, I kept my face blank, but awe filled me. How I wished I could sing! I had always wanted to learn, but the breeding house forbade music. My heart wished to join Benedict, and a nagging voice in my brain that told me to do it anyway, to join in with these men around me. I wanted to so badly, but fear clamped my tongue.
Benedict’s voice soared on its own wordless melody, the notes caressing my soul as I closed my eyes to just listen. Then his lips pushed onto mine, and I parted them on instinct. As his mouth moved against me, a small warble pulled itself from my throat, weak and audible only to him. He smirked and pulled away.
Immediately all sound stopped. It was almost deafening how quickly the hall went silent. D’Arcy raised our joined hands, presenting us to the drakens assembled.
“May the best drakens join the court!”
The drakens called their assents in a series of cries and calls, the sound reminding me of the falcons who hunted in the meadows near the breeding house. Then it was over. I blinked, my nausea and pounding headache returned with a vengeance.
I realized Benedict had gestured and waited for me to walk ahead of him.
“I thought you wanted to walk on your own power?” The thinly veiled threat only increased the turning of my stomach.
I took a few steps forward but froze at the sea of unfamiliar creatures in front of me. They were happily heading towards the loaded tables lining the edges of the hall, but the sight of them combined with the smell of food was tipping the battle with my nausea against me. Benedict’s lips thinned, and I wondered what I had done to make him mad this time.
“I imagine you’d prefer to dine in your rooms?”
I would have preferred to curl up in that massive bed and never move again, but it was a start.
“Yes,” I whispered, no shame in my voice as I practically begged him, “please.”
He rolled his eyes but put a pointed claw in my back as he nudged me towards the hall behind the dais. He gave a wry grin to his men, raising his voice enough to make my previous headache seem like nothing. “She is eager to begin creating the next generation!”
The men cheered, roaring their approval loudly at this idea. I froze, terror squeezing my heart until I couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t possibly mean what I thought he did, did he? I was not a breeder!
My headache throbbed in time with my heavy footsteps over the stone path. We made it into the tunnel before my body and nerves joined forces against me. I wavered on the path and grabbed onto his wrist in desperation. He shot me an annoyed look, but I couldn’t be bothered. Everything started to spin, and I lost my battle with the rising nausea.
“Wren?”
I threw up bile all over his boots, losing my battle with consciousness.
I woke up not in my bed, but on one of the lounge chairs in my sitting room. Benedict sat across from me, swirling a cup carefully as he watched me through hooded eyes.
“More concussed than I realized. You’ve been out for an hour or so.”
I tried to sit up, then fell back down as a wave of nausea overtook me. He shoved a porcelain basin at me and I dry-heaved into it, since there was nothing in my stomach to come up. I hadn’t eaten since my meager breakfast at the breeding house, which had been a slice of bread and a bite of an apple.
“What? You couldn’t sniff it on me?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Drink this. It will heal your concussion.”
What was concussion? I’d drink anything to make it go away, even if it was offered by him. It was becoming a habit, taking strange drinks that he offered. I took the cup from his hands and threw it back as quickly as I could. It tasted the same as the vial in the entrance chamber, except for one difference. This one was hot and slid down my throat much more easily. I made a face, but already the pounding of my head and its accompanying nausea were fading. Benedict stood over me and gave another tentative sniff.
“Stop that!” I batted him away, but he caught my wrist in his hands.
“It’s how we determine if someone is injured. You can cease your female dramatics.”
Female dramatics? My hands balled into fists, but I managed a deranged grin. “Where’s my knife?”
He twitched away what may have been an inappropriate grin.
“That’s more like it. You will need to be surer of yourself around the other drakens.”
He gestured at the ridiculous spread of food in front of us. “Eat.”
The food was rich and creamy, and much too heavy for my starved stomach. If I ate any of that, it was likely to come right back up. Benedict caught my wary expression, and his face hardened. “If it is not good enough for you, then leave it.”
I had no idea what to do with his anger, so I pretended to study the table. He growled and stomped to the wall that held the passageway.
“Wait!” I called.
He tensed, pausing in the passageway.
“You told your men that you would . . . that we’d . . . ” I flushed in embarrassment. I couldn’t wait all night terrified he would return to finish the job, to force me into something I’d had nightmares about since I was old enough to understand what went on in the upstairs rooms of the breeding house.
His gaze scrutinized me from head to toe, and I forced myself to glare back. In one burst of motion, he ripped the traveling cloak from my shoulders, his eyes roving up and down my body. I tried to cover myself, but nothing could shield me from the coldness in his eyes.
“The draken games begin tomorrow. In exchange for a carefree life here, you will serve as their prize, and you will do so without complaint. Seven days for seven drakens, each will win the right to your bed and a coveted place on my court. My only advice is to remember that they are not allowed to touch you without your permission. They are to win you over. As for me?” The disdain on his face made me flinch as he said, “I won’t touch you while you look like that.”
Benedict left, and tears of shame leaked from the corners of my eyes. I tugged uselessly on a curl of my frizzy, brown hair and vaguely wondered if I’d be better off back at the breeding manor. It was the same deal, wasn’t it? Sold to the highest bidder, forced to lay with men. At least he said I had a choice, but I really didn’t, did I? It was just a different kind of slavery.
I shook my head. Benedict was cruel and spiteful, but he hadn’t hurt me yet. Or at least, he hadn’t meant to bash me against the wall. That was more than I could say about Crullfed or the brutes they brought in to impregnate the women. Here, I at least had luxurious quarters, some sort of standing amongst the men, and more food than my stomach could cope with. If all I had to do was put up with Benedict’s prickliness and these . . . Draken games, then surely it was a fair price to pay, wasn’t it? I entered my private bedroom and crawled under the massive silk covers, not even bothering to change.
