Page 25 of Dragon King’s Bullied Mate

“Beckett!” Lyra screamed again as she struggled violently against the guard holding her. “Please, someone get him!”

She had one final glimpse of the little boy as he vanished near the bakery through the sea of moving bodies. Then he was gone. A sickening emptiness opened inside her so suddenly she could barely breathe.

“Please,” she said hoarsely as she twisted toward the guards, genuine panic breaking through every ounce of restraint she possessed. “He’s just a child. I need to find him.”

No one listened.

Villagers shouted angrily as the guards dragged her through the square, but their voices blurred together beneath the roaring panic filling her ears. All she could think about was Beckett alone somewhere in the freezing streets, frightened and running with no idea where to go.

By the time they forced her into the prison transport that waited at the edge of the village, Lyra was shaking hard enough that the chains around her wrists rattled softly.

The journey to the castle passed in a frozen haze of snow, fear, and disbelief while the accusation repeated endlessly through her mind.

Poisoning the king.

The irony of it made her feel almost sick. She had protected him, saved his life. And now she was being dragged away in chains for it.

The castle towers emerged near dusk through the falling snow. It jutted up against the fading sky and hatred surged through her at the sight of it. Everything in her life had begun unraveling the moment she dug Mikael out of the snow.

The dungeon smelled of damp stone, rust, and old smoke. A guard shoved her into the cell hard enough that she stumbled before she caught herself against the wall. Pain flared through her shoulder as the iron door slammed shut behind her.

“You can’t hold me without proof,” she snapped as she spun back toward the bars. “You can’t accuse me of poisoning him when I was the one trying to keep him alive.”

The guard refused to meet her eyes while he locked the door. Footsteps faded down the corridor until she was left alone with nothing but cold stone surrounding her. For one brief moment, anger burned hotter than fear.

Then she thought of Beckett again.

She pressed her trembling hands against her face and forced herself to breathe through the terror that threatened to consume her. She had no idea where he was now, whether someone had found him, or whether he was hiding somewhere freezing and frightened. And there was nothing she could do about any of it.

For the first time in years, Lyra felt truly helpless.

And somewhere deep beneath the fear and anger, another terrible realization continued echoing relentlessly through her mind.

It wasn’t over.

Whatever darkness had followed Mikael out of the mountains had finally reached her too.

Chapter 11

Mikael

The physician arrived shortly before dawn beneath a sky heavy with more snow. The frozen courtyard buzzed with activity as the servants hurried through the cold to unload leather cases stamped with the crest of Stagholt.

By the time Mikael woke fully enough to separate dreams from reality, Dr. Martin stood beside the bed with sleeves rolled past his elbows and silver spectacles perched low on his nose. His weathered face was lined with exhaustion from travel but sharpened by unmistakable fascination as he studied Mikael. Martin had the focused intensity of a man who had spent half his life chasing ailments that no one else could figure out.

There was no greeting or small talk. Mikael barely had time to swipe a hand across his eyes.

“You should already be dead,” Martin informed him plainly while preparing a syringe filled with pale amber liquid that shimmered strangely in the morning light. Any other man might have found the statement alarming, but Mikael only huffed a tired breath through his nose because he lacked the strength for anything else.

“I’ve heard worse. You must be Sven’s physician.”

“Guilty.” Martin snorted softly before gripping Mikael’s forearm and pressing the needle into the vein with practiced precision. “You may already know this, but this vaccine was developed after Sven was almost killed by the same toxin a while back. It took us a bit to realize that his queen actually slowed the progression of his poison, otherwise he would have died.”

“How do you know it’s the same poison?”

“The blood sample that accompanied the courier sent to fetch me. I’m well versed enough to have a quick test for the toxin. It’s the same one the Skelvarns created. The same one that prevents you from healing yourself.”

Mikael struggled to focus on the conversation. “You know?”