Page 22 of The Dragon’s Captive

“Of course I’m not sorry!” There was nothing resembling repentance in her tone, because she didn’t feel bad for what had happened. She’d told Vilka from the beginning that she needed to return home, and that she wouldn’t stop trying until she did. The fact that he didn’t seem to understand what that actually meant wasn’t her fault. “You should have let me go!”

Vilka’s golden gaze seared fiercely into her very soul. “You have created not one, but two serious problems, awakened a world eater and opened a portal.”

“I’ve had a busy day,” she said, taking refuge in smartass responses. What the hell was she supposed to do about any of this? The portal, by all rights, should probably close on itself. Maybe. She wasn’t actually sure. As for the dragon, that was way beyond her pay grade.

Vilka gritted his teeth and for a moment she was not sure what he was going to do to her. She was baiting him and she knew she should stop. He was a man suddenly alone against the ferocity of a creature more powerful than any dragon. Many men in his position would probably have crumbled under the pressure, taken their anger out on the defenseless female in their grasp, but Vilka was better than that.

He took a deep breath and a slow smile spread over his face, a smile that Kate was certain did not bode well for her immediate future.

“I don’t know what I’m going to do about the world eater right now,” he said. “But I know what I’m going to do with you.”

“With me? Shouldn’t you be doing something about the massive fucking dragon out there?”

“There is little I can do about Avastias in this moment. We are in no danger here; this fortress was built to withstand a direct hit from a world eater. I am certain that Avastias’ emergence will draw attention and assistance—and if it doesn’t, the portal certainly will.”

He walked on, taking her with him, marching her before him.

“I have time to deal with you,” he said. “And I intend to deal with you thoroughly. If this is to be the end of one world, or perhaps even two, it will not end without you being thoroughly punished.”

They soon arrived back in his chambers, where her broken leash still hung from the bedpost, scattered links on the floor a silent reminder of just how hard she had worked to unintentionally unleash a beast of Armageddon.

“It’s a prisoner’s right to try to escape,” she said before he could say anything. “I just want to go home. Is that so wrong?”

“Yes,” he ground out. “For reasons I have explained to you several times already. You do not listen, and you do not obey. I have been too kind to you, human. I have allowed your weak flesh and your softness to make me treat you the same way—and it has done neither of us any good. Tonight you will face a proper dragon punishment. You will feel my fire and you will be chastised to the full extent of my capabilities.”

“Vilka…”

“Do not use my name on your lips,” he growled, his expression so furious she felt a true tremor of fear. “You have not earned the right to speak my name. You will call me Master and you will beg my forgiveness.”

Kate stared at him, uncomfortable with the knowledge that she had in some way brought this consequence upon herself. She kept forgetting that this was not a human man. He had not been raised in good society. He did not know about concepts like equality. He was the ruler of his domain and he expected to be obeyed. She had trespassed against him in a way he likely found unforgivable and she knew there was no easy way out.

“I don’t think you will be able to forgive me,” she said softly, casting her eyes toward the floor.

“You do not know my mind, human,” he growled. “Or my heart. I would ask that you stop presuming the state of either.”

“I mean,” she said with the beginnings of tears pricking her eyes. “I mean that I will never submit to this realm, or to your rule. This is not my world and you are not my master.”

She expected rage. Instead, his hand cupped her chin and tipped her face up toward his own. “You are wrong,” he said in tones that were determined and deeply controlled. “You are so wrong, you cannot begin to understand how wrong you are—but you will soon. You are going back on a leash. And I do not mean a pretty, malleable leash like the one you destroyed. I mean one forged from chains you will never break if you work on them for a hundred years. You are not going to leave my sight. Ever. I cannot trust you even a foot from me, I think, human.”

“You better not close your eyes, in that case,” Kate said petulantly. She was so frustrated with him and with herself for botching what would probably be her only opportunity for escape. The equipment had all been destroyed, leaving her with nothing. “I could escape beneath your nose, given enough time. You will never be able to keep me here against my will.”

“I know you are an intelligent woman,” he growled. “And I know that you feel something for me. I know you feel some measure of guilt for what has befallen the fortress, for Avastias’ rising. I can see it in your eyes, even as you lie to me and tell me that you do not care. So why is it you continue to try to plunge our worlds back into war?”

“I’m trying to go home!” she gasped in a plaintive attempt for him to understand that which he had thus far utterly refused to comprehend.

“This is your home,” Vilka said firmly. “You will have my progeny and you will live out your life here.”

His arrogance never ceased to stun Kate.

“You can’t just tell me what I am going to do with my life! I did not spend all those years studying to be dictated to by some… some…”

“Dragon,” he finished her sentence for her. “You came into my world. You made yourself my problem, and whether you like it or not, little human, your actions have consequences. I will never allow you to return to the human realm. You have everything you need here to make your radiation treatments, and when the time comes and my seed finds the spark of life which dances inside you—you will no longer need them.”

They seethed at one another, she so small and furious, he so large and angry.

“I am not going to carry your, your… progeny,” she spluttered. “How could you think of something like that at a time like this?”

“I think of it every time I look at you.”