Breeder For The Villain Dragon

CHAPTER SIX

Juta rushes through the castle hallway, servants' gossip already reaching his ears.

Without money and with a dying mother, how did Faelyn think it would be easy to escape or even survive outside?

Juta can't shake the worried feeling and guilt that maybe Faelyn made this desperate decision because of his constant advances. Did his pursuit scare her into trying to flee the castle?

As Juta bursts into the long hallway leading to the King's chambers, Princess Amiral blocks his path. She stands before him with a cold smile gracing her beautiful features.

"I was just coming to find you. There are some things we need to discuss."

"Get out of my way!" Juta snarls impatiently.

"Our wedding is in a few weeks. Can't we at least show each other some respect?" Amiral's voice drips with false sweetness, but her eyes burn with barely contained fury.

Juta usually isn't this cold to her, but right now he has more pressing matters that can't wait.

"Not now. We'll talk later."

He tries to sidestep Amiral, but her voice stops him like a blade.

"Are you looking for that half-blood slave sister of mine?"

Juta halts and spins around, his eyes narrowing dangerously. "What do you know?"

"Why do you care about her so much?" Amiral's voice rises, her mask of composure cracking. "You can't have feelings for a mongrel slave! It's humiliating to my reputation! Your obsession makes people mock me behind my back!"

Her beautiful face twists with rage and hurt, but Juta doesn't seem to care about her feelings at all. When he starts to turn away again, Amiral grabs his arm with iron fingers.

"I'm afraid you're already too late," she hisses, her eyes gleaming with vicious satisfaction. She made the right choice getting rid of Faelyn. It will teach this unfaithful dog of a fiancé a lesson he'll never forget.

"She made the mistake of trying to escape, so my father gave her a very special punishment. I do hope she succeeds in her new… duties."

Fear stabs through Juta's heart at the cold triumph blazing in Amiral's gaze. He rips her hand away from his arm as if her touch burns.

"What have you done?" he demands, his voice deadly quiet.

Amiral shrugs, her smile growing wider and more cruel. "I had nothing to do with it. I don't know why Faelyn made such a foolish choice. Maybe it was your unwanted attention that drove her to desperation!"

Inside, Amiral's hatred for Faelyn burns like acid in her veins. She loathes the half-blood for making Juta lust after her, but her fury runs even deeper because she knows Faelyn doesn't return his feelings. Is she supposed to marry someone rejected by a worthless slave? A man that not even a mongrel wants?

But she loves Juta with obsessive devotion, so her wounded pride demands punishment for both the half-blood and her faithless fiancé.

She's planned everything perfectly. Juta will learn who should matter to him now. As for Faelyn… 'Let that dragon burn her alive until nothing remains but charred bones,' Amiral thinks with savage pleasure.

"She's probably being ravaged by that beast right now," Amiral continues with sickening sweetness. "Dragons are known for their… appetites. I wonder if there will be anything left of her when he's done."

Juta's face goes white with horror and rage. He pushes past Amiral violently, striding toward the King's chambers.

"My Lord!" Juta bursts in and bows hastily, his voice shaking with barely controlled emotion.

"She is your daughter, after all - your own flesh and blood. Will you let her be destroyed by that savage beast?"

- 

- 

In the dungeon, thick starlight chains bind Amendiel's wrists and ankles to the stone walls. Days have passed since he was locked in this dark, reeking pit. They've tortured him, drugged him, starved him, yet his spirit burns as fierce as dragon fire.

His golden eyes track the half-blood's trembling form. She shakes like prey before a predator.

Amendiel's lip curls with disgust. The fae blood running through her veins makes his skin crawl. For over a century, dragons and fae have spilled each other's blood in endless war. Her kind murdered his father, burned his ancestral lands, enslaved his people. And now they send him this pathetic creature - half fae, half human - as if her mixed heritage makes her any less revolting.

If anything, she's worse. A mongrel born from the union of his enemies and the cattle they keep.

"The food is not p_poisoned!" she gasps, her green eyes streaming with tears of pain.

Lies. He tastes the deception on the air like ash. This isn't the first time Jaelan has tried to poison him this week.

No point killing the messenger. This slave has probably endured worse than him. Her terror saturates the air, but underneath… something else. Something that makes his nostrils flare.

Ignoring her whimper, he tears into the bread with teeth sharper than any creature's.

Ordinary poisons barely affect his draconic blood. He needs strength for what's coming.

The soup tastes surprisingly rich at first. Too good for a prisoner. But then something else hits his tongue - something that makes his entire body recoil.

Blood. Mixed blood. Fae and human combined.

He spits violently, the taste so revolting it makes his stomach turn. They didn't just drug the food - they contaminated it with her mongrel essence. The very thing designed to weaken dragons, to strip away their power.

"Filthy," he snarls, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Now he understands Jaelan's true plan.

His gaze never leaves the half-blood. She stares everywhere except at him, trembling like a cornered rabbit. If she's meant to seduce information from him, she's failing spectacularly.

Her flame-red hair caught his attention during that humiliating parade. But now, in this enclosed space, something else draws him.

Her neck. Pale and exposed where her rags have torn. The sight makes something primal stir in his chest - not quite hunger, not quite anger.

Then it hits him. Fire races through his veins like molten metal. His muscles tense, every nerve screaming with sudden, overwhelming need.

His pupils dilate to black slits. Nostrils flare. The scent of her fear transforms into something intoxicating, something that makes his fangs ache to pierce soft flesh.

"You dare feed me your mongrel blood!" He hisses like a vicious serpent as the drug burns through his system like liquid flame. His vision sharpens until he can see every frightened breath she takes. Her pulse throbs visibly in her throat - rapid, terrified, alive.

Amendiel lunges at the half-fae. His chained hand wraps around her neck, feeling her rabbit-quick heartbeat under his palm.

Her eyes go wide - those strange green eyes filled with pure terror. Recognition floods her face, understanding of what's about to happen.

The need claws at his insides like a caged beast, every instinct screams at him to take, to claim, to dominate. But another part of him - the part that still thinks like a king - rebels.

With a roar of fury, he hurls her away from him. She hits the stone wall and crumples like a broken bird.

'Not like this. Not with her.'

He cannot mate with a fae!

But the fire in his blood doesn't care about his pride. It only burns hotter, demanding satisfaction.

Faelyn scrambles to the door on hands and knees, her movements jerky with panic. "Let me out! Please!" Her voice cracks with desperation.

The sound of her terror does something terrible to him. Makes the beast in his chest purr with satisfaction. Makes him want to chase, to hunt, to corner his prey properly.

His breathing turns ragged as steam rises from his skin as his internal temperature spikes. The chains around his wrists grow warm, then hot.

She pounds on the door until her fists bleed. Sobs rack her small frame. She knows. She understands what they've done to both of them.

When he moves, it's with an impossible speed, Faelyn doesn't seem him move until his clawed hand tangles in her red hair, yanking her back into the darkness where monsters dwell.

Her scream echoes off stone walls. But no one comes to save broken slaves from hungry dragons.

- 

-