Page 27 of Scalebound


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“You will?” I asked, more surprise in my tone than I would’ve liked. I was not expecting his willingness to comply.

“Yes.”

“Deal,” I confirmed. A small spear of relief flowing through me. “My name is Aurelia. Aurelia Demilove.”

“Damian Cadence.”

The moment he pushed his dark hair behind his ears, his onyx eyes popping from the moonlight streaming through the dead trees, I knew I got myself mixed up in a dance of death andtrickery. From the unsettling smirk that was sprawled on his face, he was thinking the exact same thing.

1.Ezu (Eh-ooh): Heaven

2.Haxnau (Hah-nah-woo): Hell

Chapter seventeen

AURELIA

As twilight descended, we stumbled upon a hidden alcove nestled amidst towering ebony trees, their branches reaching out like protective arms. Without a word, we set to work, gathering fallen branches and arranging them in a circle. With a subtle flick of my hand, a spark danced to life amidst the kindling, coaxing the wood to embrace the warmth of flickering flames.

He silently watched as the flames grew. “What else can you do?” His eyes were dark and enigmatic, drawing my attention. Resting on a log near him and the fire, I observed his obscure features emanating, his sharp jawline and dark facial hair cloaking his chin.

I almost forgot his question while taking him in from the light the fire provided. Even the darkness about him drew me in. Snapping out of the stare, I said, “I can speak to dragons, obviously start things on fire with just a flick of my hand… and that’s about it.” He started to fidget with his knife.

“How can you speak to dragons?”

“In my mind. I also know their names just by the sound of their voice. It’s like we understand each other.” I wondered if I shouldn’t be sharing this information with a stranger and if I could trust him. My mouth became dry, nerves riding my body with the fear of falling asleep for the night. I knew he couldn’t kill me, but it didn’t mean that there weren’t other ways he may try to get away with.

“How have you survived this long?” he asked after a few moments of silence. I pushed away the defense I felt, seeing the curiosity in his eyes. Most Scalebornes didn’t live past fifteen. Being twenty was an accomplishment in itself. It didn't mean it had been a fulfilling twenty years, but I still was alive, which counted for something.

“My parents made me live in a tower. I was only allowed to leave for very few occasions,” I stated as I traced the scattered lines on the bark beneath me.

“You live in a tower?” He cocked his eyebrow, surprise shining in his eyes as a subtle edge of humor lining them threw me on the defense.

“Lived,” I corrected.

“You must’ve been a royal pain,” he said, amusement filling his eyes as he warily watched the fire.

“You have no idea how right you are,” I said, adjusting uncomfortably on the log. I had never been outside for this long in my entire life. Two sides of me had an internal conflict. One side wanted the freedom of being out in the Forbidden Forest by the fire, even if I was with an assassin. The other side wanted to run back to the comforts and safety of my tower. No hard decisions, no lies, and no assassins.

He looked over at me again, his eyes intense, curiosity lining the deep swirling onyx.

“How do you mean?” he asked, moving to sit on the ground, his back propped up by the log. He was idly flipping the dagger he held within his fingers, the jewels lining the handle, gleaming from the firelight. One wrong move and the blade would sink into his skin. Perhaps one right move and the dagger would find mine. I swallowed. He couldn’t kill me so long as he believed the lie I told about Nana bringing back the dead. I had a death grip on that lie that I knewHaxnau1 would envy.

“Kings like to lock up their precious jewels, only wanting to flaunt them when the timing suits them.” I slid to the ground, leaning my back up against the log, pulling my knees up to my chest. The familiar dread curled in my stomach. The memory ofLaneux2 being slaughtered by a cowardly knight to take my rightful place on the throne.

“You’re a princess.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. A single eyebrow on his face hitched upward, his pools of dark shadows examining me.

“Technically, yes.” A light flush grew on my face from his look–the intensity. Something about the utter lack of care for anything drew me in. He was free in the sense that he had no responsibilities or burdens that he had to care for anyone else, no kingdom dying before him, and no burden of golden blood or golden eyes. It allured me, yet made the blood in my veins boil.

“The Clandike Kingdom. King Myre Demilove’s blood heir,” he muttered, staring in the direction that I had come from, toward the kingdom that was relying on me. I was going to save it, but I couldn’t help but to think that wasn’t the only reason I was running away.

“Not quite the heir.” The assassin looked my way again, his eyebrows still raised. “He decided a random brute would be more fit for the throne than his own daughter.” I finished, staring at the fire. I willed the familiar flame to bring me warmth and comfort.

“Makes sense considering,” he said, pointing his dagger up and down, tracing my body.

“Considering what?”

“That you’re scale slum,” he said coolly, his empty eyes staring me down.

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