CHAPTER 26

My dragon made an ohhhhmmm kinda thought, which typically meant she'd fucked up somehow, and the entire dungeon of people crashed down onto their knees. A few cried out in pain, busting their kneecaps in the process. Some tipped forward with the blow, landing on their faces.

Neff's dragon swelled in pride, which was a pretty solid tip-off that I'd gone too far.

Too much power, my dragon thought. You were supposed to make them, not force them.

What the fuck is the difference? I thought-shouted at her.

She retreated, slinking away and leaving me to deal with the fallout. What a shithead.

"Damn it," I muttered, facing the other shifters, all of whom looked up at me with wary and/or pain-filled eyes. "Sorry, everyone. Sorry! Honestly, my dragon has been suppressed most of my life. I've never even shifted! Remember me saying that? It's true. The only reason I know she's a dragon is because Neff, the prince of Jerman, is my true mate. We have a bond, and his dragon and my dragon are a couple of real assholes. I'm serious. They said to make a statement and…sorry."

"It can't be true," Tina said softly, her gaze rooted to me. "It can't be true."

"You can smell me now, right? You know it's true."

"But…" Another woman with a gap in her teeth blinked at me, intense longing in her eyes. "The curse. If…"

I pointed at her. Clearly Daniel had only lifted the magical gag from Neff. "You have the magical gag, right?" She nodded. "I don't, because I was born in one of the villages. I'm common. Basically, as a sum-up…" I glanced at the stairs and licked my lips. I doubted anyone was listening…but still. I continued in an undertone. "The curse hasn't been broken, but the suppression has been lifted. If you are from Jerman, I can give you access to your dragon. Or…I probably just did. But since the curse is still in effect, it might hinder your ability to shift."

"So that's what that feeling was," someone muttered. "It felt like something magical had shifted or changed, but I couldn't figure out what."

"The prince had his wings shorn off," said a man with a large forehead and pointy chin.

"Yes, exactly," I said. "It doesn't matter anyway, because if you shifted, they'd just kill you. It's better if you keep all of this to yourself and relish in being with your dragon again. Unless your dragon is an asshole like mine, and then…sorry about the return to drama."

You're just as much of an asshole, my dragon thought.

Not even possible.

"He's your true mate, but you didn't…" Tina bent her head a little, willing me to finish the sentence.

"Imprint? No. The curse hasn't been broken." I showed her my teeth, not sure how much to say. "The demons took me away before it could happen." Close enough and mostly true.

"But, Strange Lady, why don't you use the sword?" Vrans said, lying on his side with his head propped up on his elbow. He hadn't stepped into the fight, but he hadn't been able to escape my command to kneel, either.

I lifted my hands and then dropped them in defeat. "The sword was a gift. I was dealing with some trouble—from Jandri, actually—and Neff was trying to help. He gave me a bunch of weapons, most of which I could use. The sword never worked for me. I can work a pocketknife like a motherfucker, but a sword? No. We didn't have enough time to train with it. I wear it now because the demons apparently think it's a great joke that I can't use it."

"No," Tina said softly, pain in her eyes. "You aren't wearing it as a joke. You are wearing it to remind us of what we lost. You are wearing it because the demon king knew the effect it would have. He's not taunting you—he is taunting us."

Her words hit me like a sack of bricks. I sagged a little, digesting them. Faces fell around me. Tina's pain was shared.

I took a deep breath. Part of being a hero was building people up. Probably. It was about all I could do right now, at any rate.

"Well then," I said with determination. "Fuck them. They don't get to decide how we feel. Let it serve as a symbol for a future we will regain."

Fire sparked in their eyes—all of them, hearing the call for any sort of future, not just for the Jerman kingdom. Heads nodded. Backs straightened.

"And, hell, maybe someone can show me how to use it!"

A few people smiled, and even more chuckled. They might not have realized I was serious.

Tina climbed to her feet, that fire still raging in her eyes.

"A villager." She huffed out a laugh and offered me her hand. "The golden prince's true mate is a villager."

I could hear the irony singing through her words.

"A really poor one, too," I replied with a grin. "The mad king is probably turning over in his grave."

Tina laughed. "Probably."

"There is nothing wrong with growing up in a village," Vrans said, and many nodded.

Tina sobered a little. "The queen was from a village in the Fenomenal Kingdom. A village in a different kingdom, with a lot more status, but a village nonetheless. I wonder if she would've been pleased. She also wanted humility for her son. She wanted him grounded. A poor villager who unabashedly kills officers and comes in front of guards must surely keep him on his toes."

I pinched my face without meaning to, my cheeks flaming red again. She laughed.

"So, I have a few questions," I said to quickly change the subject.

Mr. Belvin rose, walking closer. His gaze flicked to Neff's mark, and hunger flitted through his eyes. A push of his power made me bristle.

"Ooh-wee," Vrans said, sitting up and rubbing his knees. "Micah's dragon smells another alpha and wants to accept the challenge."

Mr. Belvin was clearly Micah. Neff had told me there would be shifters who saw his mark as a challenge rather than a threat. He'd told me one of them could give me a future—something he thought he could not.

Don't you even think about it, my dragon warned me, and I rolled my eyes.

"It won't be a problem," Micah told me. "I can already feel the tug of the suppression magic yanking on my dragon. I'm not from Jerman. I haven't been freed. When my dragon is suppressed, he won't thrash at me to take the challenge and work to claim you."

I wanted to ask how his dragon intended to meet a challenge from another dragon who wasn't even here, or stake his claim on a woman who wasn't interested, but it was irrelevant right now. There were larger issues at hand.

"If you can get out of your cells, why aren't we leaving?" I asked.

"They have a magical lock at the top of the stairs." Micah glanced behind him at the stairs. "Try to go through it and get something cut off."

"Ah," I said, having forgotten that in all the commotion. "And the lock-picking tools?"

"Stolen, obviously," Vrans said, scratching his head. "When we are…treated to their fancy parties, we grab anything we can. Sometimes there are useful things, but most times not. They watch us closely, so there's very little we can sneak out, especially given the state of mind we usually leave in."

"I hate to say it, but the wolves are our saving grace," Micah said. "They are generally thought to be more compliant than we are—"

"Because they are more compliant than we are," said a woman with light brown hair soiled with oil and grime. "They show their lack of worth where it counts the most."

"They don't raise such a ruckus." Vrans winked at me.