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FLORENCE

The manor house had not stopped shaking. The long, violent tremors came every minute or two in waves that made my bed frame tremble and my tray rattle. Molindra was clearly attacking. But why? And would she stop or would the children and I wind up buried down here in rubble?

I sat on my bed, listening. Deeper in the dungeon, children were crying. Some of the voices were so high and thin that I knew they must be very young. My heart ached for them; I longed to go to them, to open their cells and take them all in my arms. I was a dragon rider. I was supposed to be brave, to be able to act. But instead, I was one of the imprisoned and helpless.

The children’s crying stopped abruptly. Every muscle in my body locked up, the silence hitting harder than the tremors had. The children only went so quiet for one reason—when one of them was coming down. And when they came, children disappeared.

Footsteps sounded in the dark hallway outside my cell, quick and hurried.

Then Viktor Drakharrow appeared, looking foul and furious. His face had already been ravaged, but lately, it was even more wrecked-looking. Blackened veins webbed his skin, streaking down his cheeks and throat. His red eyes burned in a gaunt face carved by time and cruelty. His white hair was slicked back, and he wore a dark coat of rich black velvet, with cuffs of crimson lace. Evil could be so decadent.

His gaze moved quickly, darting around the hall, then checking my cell. His jaw was clenched with strain, but then it relaxed slightly with relief. My heart sank. Whatever he’d come to find wasn’t here. And Viktor was glad. My tormentor’s eyes snapped to mine. He smiled faintly. “Still here, I see.”

I held very still. Was he going to open the cell? I hoped with every fiber of my being he would not. I couldn’t even flinch or press myself against the wall. I couldn’t ask him what he wanted. But he knew my thoughts.

His mouth curved upward cruelly. “If I wanted something from you, Florence, believe me, I would take it. You would already be on your knees.”

My stomach turned.

He stepped closer to the bars. “Soon, pretty Florence. Very soon. But not yet.”

He lifted a hand lazily, and pain speared through me. I gasped, my body folding in on itself. I hadn’t done anything—and he knew that. He was hurting me because he was angry and because he could.

“Do not hold so fast to hope, little Florence,” Viktor said coldly as I finally straightened up. “It is a wasted emotion for one such as yourself. Resign yourself to your life with me.” He smiled slightly. “Who knows? Perhaps in time we will come to cherish one another.”

The words were mocking. I knew love was an emotion Viktor had long since stopped allowing himself to feel.

I was still shaking as he turned away, his coat sweeping out behind him as he started back up the corridor. Then a voice came out of the shadows—not from nearby my cell, but from the other end of the hall.

“Searching for someone, Viktor?”

My breath caught.

“Who are you?” Viktor barked.

I felt terror for the man standing in the dark. Yet he did not move. That was the first thing I noticed about him—he stood firmly, feet planted with the same arrogance Viktor possessed. He wore a hood, and it shadowed his face. But I could make out the silhouette of his form. He was taller than Viktor by at least a head and solidly built.

“I asked who you were.” There was a hint of confusion in Viktor’s tone now. “How did you get in here? If you are a guard, you should be outside with the other men, helping to subdue that bitch dragon.”

“Her name is Molindra.”

Viktor had stopped in his tracks. “What did you say to me?”

“Oh, Viktor. Do you really not know me? Has age made you so forgetful?”

Viktor made a hissing sound, like the sound someone might make when blinded by the sun.

The man in the hood gave a soft chuckle. “But then, I suppose I look a little different than the last time you saw me, my old friend.”

Viktor still had not moved, but his shoulders were tense. “Enough games. You know my name. Do me the courtesy of reminding me of your own.”

The man spread out his gloved hands in a mocking gesture. “But this is so much more entertaining. It’s been such a long time since we met truly face-to-face. Long enough that you should have been grateful.”

“Grateful?” Viktor hissed.

“Grateful that you had so many years in peace before we were forced to look upon one another again.”

Their attention was so locked on one another that neither was looking my way.