Chapter 5

Chapter Five

SIYANA

My heart thundered in my chest as I rode away from my home, filled with churning emotions of anger, fear, and despair. The rhythmic clopping of the horses' hooves only amplified the turmoil within me, and I couldn't shake the sinking feeling that this journey would not end well for me.

As we left behind the familiar, rolling green hills of my lands and our glistening, white stone castle disappeared from sight, I could feel all hope slipping away. The realization that I may never see my home again weighed heavily on me, threatening to break my spirit.

Upon asking my captor if he had a blanket I could wrap around myself to shield me from the biting wind–considering he’d forced me onto the horse in a dress fit to be inside a warm castle– and him telling me to toughen up, I’d decided it was far past time to make his life as difficult as he was making mine.

“Stop right this instance!” he growled out as my horse let out a neigh, alerting him as I wiggled out of the saddle for the fifth time and dropped onto my feet with ease, despite having my wrists bound together with a coarse rope. After the second time I’d slipped to my feet to walk, he’d thought that would stop me.

I was proud to say it had not, despite the ground between our feet growing uneven as we cut through a rocky mountain pass.

“I don’t even know how you’re managing to do that in a dress,” he whispered under his breath.

I’m so glad I was able to hear the whispered words, reveling in his annoyance. I was practically preening as he glowered at me, and I couldn’t help but send him a wink.

"Till death do us part, dear husband," I taunted with a sardonic smile. "It's a lovely day for a stroll."

It was, in fact, beginning to turn into a frigid day that had my nipples pebbling beneath my gown, and a shiver began to work its way through my body despite the rays of sun peaking through the lush trees surrounding us. I couldn’t let the weather force me into servitude just like he wanted, though.

I was more grateful than ever for my flexibility and agility from training with the sword, as well as my countless hours on horses as I explored the mountains around our home. If he wanted to force me to become his wife and ride all the way back to the snowy fortress in the north, I was going to make it the most excruciatingly long trek of his life.

Maybe if I was lucky, I’d freeze to death before we made it to the prison I was to call my home. If not, I’d settle for making this trip a blight on his memory.

It was clear from watching him on his horse for a bit that the beast within him was making the horse nervous, and the king himself had an awful seat. His ass was going to hurt from this trip, if I could drag it out as long as possible.

Hopping off of his large white and gray speckled horse, that stood about seventeen hands in height, he let out a heavy sigh and rustled through the large saddle bag. “Miserable wench,” he muttered.

Glancing over at the beautiful black mare I’d been meant to ride, not walk next to in companionship, I whispered, “What do you think he’s going to pull out of his bag of tricks next, girl?”

Her ear swiveled toward me as I spoke, before going forward once more, entirely focused on the king and his movement.

Neither of us trusted him.

I glanced at the king, wondering how he could make such a large horse seem small as I continued to walk forward with the reins in my bound hands. As I passed him, his scent enveloped me once more, and I scowled at myself for finding anything about this man appealing. Maybe I needed to stay ahead of him so the scent of horse dung wafted back onto him.

“Come on, you’re going to make us late,” I groaned dramatically, as if he was the problem here. “I don’t know about you, but I’d like to get there before sundown.”

Truly, this was marvelous work. Maybe he’d just send me home and be done with it.

“You’re infuriating!” he shouted, drawing my head back toward him as he pulled out a long coil of rope from the depths of his bag. With quick, determined steps, he closed the distance between us, his strong hand gripping my arm with a painful force. I winced at the pressure and tried to pull away, but his grip only tightened. "Get on the horse," he growled.

It was honestly infuriating how handsome he was when I looked at the side of his face that was entirely human looking. His full lips drew my eyes to them each time he spoke, and I marveled at how they could look so soft as such a harsh voice spilled from them. The sharp lines of his jaw and cheekbones, however, matched the severity of his personality, and they were exaggerated every time he scowled and glared at me.

I let out a hum as if I was considering his demand.

The universe had done us all a favor with the curse, ensuring we couldn’t be forever fooled by the fake charisma he’d used at the meeting this morning and a beautiful human face to pair with it. Those silver scales and calculating, slitted eye reminded me exactly who I was dealing with, no matter what tricks he pulled.

I let out a sigh and attempted to look compliant, even though every fiber of my being rebelled against it. "I still don’t know how to get back up on my own," I argued, holding up my bound hands with pleading eyes. “You’ll have to help me again.”

I absolutely could have done it on my own–but where was the fun in that?

He tightened his grip on my arm, causing me to wince again. Each time I’d slid off my mare, he’d practically tossed me back on, and it seemed he was tiring of my antics more now than each time before.

The pulsating pain intensified as the stitches from this morning's injury protested against the strain. I gritted my teeth and refused to give him any satisfaction as a familiar warmth ran down my arm from the reopened wound.

His nostrils flared, as if scenting the blood instantly.

“Make that stop,” he now demanded, taking a small step away and dropping my arm like it had personally offended him. “It will attract the beasts of the forest to this narrow pass.”

I made a show of glancing around me before throwing my hands in the air in annoyance, “Yeah, I’ll just go ahead and restitch the wound you tore open with the rocks and air around us! Great idea!”

His lips curled into a snarl as he shouted, “How was I supposed to know you had a pre-existing wound there?”

My voice rose to match his. “It wouldn’t have mattered at all if you wouldn’t have manhandled me like I’m cattle to be herded!”

A scoff of indignation worked its way out of him as he tilted his head and gestured at the mare. “You do have to be herded! You are the one that insists on getting off of your horse, or is your memory really that horrid?”

I swallowed the words on the tip of my tongue, hating that he had a point there. Instead, I deflected, “Why are we even on horses? We should be in a carriage befitting a king and a princess, if not just flying back, considering you can shift into a dragon!”

Save a horse, ride a dragon, or whatever–right?

He stilled at that, and the sudden silence wrapped us like the blanket I’d been asking for. We stood a few feet apart, glaring at each other until he finally spoke.

“You will never ride a dragon,” he quietly seethed, training his serpentine eye on me as it began to glow. “Only those with a bond befitting a rider are given the honor of that, and you, dear wife, are not worthy.”

It felt like the biggest punch to the gut, being insulted like that, and I didn’t have the mental capacity to figure out why it impacted me so deeply.

Did I even want to be on the back of the beasts?

Feeling completely disrespected, I couldn’t help but retort, “You act like I’d enjoy it. Your kind disgusts me.”

“We are wasting time,” he stated through gritted teeth before grabbing my hands slicked with the trail of blood that worked itself down my arm during our shouting match. I dug my heels into the hard, dirt-packed road as he dragged me over to his horse.

It wasn’t lost on me that he managed to sidestep the carriage question.

“You can either be tossed over the horse on your stomach, or you can sit,” he stated dryly. “You have three seconds to decide before I decide for you, and my choice will be the least comfortable, I promise you that.”

My lips pursed as I countered, “I think I will just get on my own horse,” and tried to tug my hands out of his grasp.

His grip tightened as he let out a deep chuckle that sent shivers up and down my spine. “Oh no, you’ve had plenty of time to choose that option.”

As his free hand reached for me and my stomach clenched in anticipation of the saddle digging into it, I swatted it away and snapped, “Fine! I will get on your horse.”

He let go of my hand and in the span of a blink of the eye, a claw-tipped finger sliced through the bindings around my wrist.

So he could transform pieces of his body at will? The thought was unnerving.

Knowing that refusal would get me nowhere, I put my boot into the stirrup and hauled myself up into the saddle with a sigh. Upon getting comfortable and staring down at him, he cleared his throat and motioned me back with his hand.

“Surely you didn’t think I’d be a gentleman and let you have the saddle after you made it so clear you wished to be anywhere but on your own horse? Move to the back.”

I clenched my jaw and my teeth ground together.

How the tables were turning and consequences were meeting actions. It turned out my ass was going to be the one unable to sit tomorrow.

I pushed myself up and worked my body over the cantle of the saddle before settling in with my legs widened to accommodate the thicker part of the horse's body. I eyed the ground with longing. How I truly wished to be walking now.

Holding up the rope still in his hand, he instructed, “Wrap this around your back and hold it until I’m in my seat.”

One of my eyebrows rose in question but I did as he said. The horse let out a grunt as he hoisted himself into the seat, and suddenly I felt awful that the poor animal was having to carry both of our weight because of my antics.

“You know, I really do promise that I’ll stay in my seat if—” I began, but was quickly cut off as he reached back for the two ends of the rope and roughly tightened it, making me huff.

My mouth widened in shock as I realized what he was doing. I scrambled, pushing away from him, but it was too late. My chest and cheek squeezed flush against his back as my body was tugged forward with the force, my hips tilted back with the saddle still between us.

The asshole had literally tied me to him.

My back and ribs flared with pain when I attempted to wiggle back and put space between our bodies, finding no slack in the rope to work with.

“Bastard,” I ground out, hating him more than ever, but a part of my body softened against him, seeking the warmth he had to offer in this frigid air. It was far more than any human I’d been in contact with.

“Wench,” he shot back before clicking his tongue for the horse to walk forward.

Instantly, I was jostled with the way my body moved along with the horse's hips in motion, and my arms fell to the drackya’s hips to steady myself. He didn’t respond, which shocked me. I thought he’d snarl and tell me it was a disease to be touched by a human.

I thought fondly of my dagger he’d taken, wishing I’d left it sheathed against my thigh to be used to cut the rope at this moment.

“We will need to make haste if we are to avoid the first snowfall and the last minute hunting parties the beasts will take to prepare their bellies for it,” he announced before the reins snapped against the horses neck, sending us into a canter as we neared the end of the pass. Trees beckoned to us from the end.

Although we were heading into the winter season now, we shouldn’t be due for any snow for another couple weeks. The ley lines ensured stable weather patterns, and the only place that should have snow was the more northern territory of Andrathya, where it laid upon the mountainous peaks year round. Our people had specifically settled in the southern part of our lands long ago, due to the warmer climate that was more habitable for humans to exist within during the harsh winters.

Just as the thought crossed my mind, the smallest drops of snow began to fall around us, coating the tops of the trees and open path cutting through the forest. As it settled onto us and melted, wetting my dress, I gritted my teeth and pressed myself further into his body as a new chill settled into my bones.

How was this possible? Were the ley lines growing unstable?

The tiniest of chuckles shook his body, the vibrations flowing into my own, and my brow pinched into a scowl as a thought occurred to me. If he had magic and control of ice, did he call the snow down on purpose to ensure I stayed close to him for warmth to further humiliate me?

To show that I needed him in some small way? Perhaps it wasn’t the ley lines at all, but his errant magic.

“Don’t ever say I didn’t offer you assistance in your time of need, wife,” he tossed out, as if hearing my thoughts.

I swallowed down what little pride I had left as I tucked my hands under his coat and encircled my arms around his abdomen in an act of self-preservation.

I guess it turned out that I didn’t want to freeze to death, after all.

“You are truly a chivalrous drackya king,” I muttered with all the faux sweetness I could conjure.

He chuffed, “You can simply say dragon king.”

My brow knitted between my eyes, confused at his claim. “But you are a drackya.”

“I still turn into a dragon and have the scales of one on my being for you to see, do I not?” he retorted, a kernel of anger beginning to unfurl in his voice.

Perhaps I didn’t understand their hierarchy and way of life, like I thought.

Sensing his annoyance, though, I pushed further, unable to help myself. “Still, you aren’t a full-blooded dragon.”

A deep howl echoed through the forest around us. Wolves.

“And you’re insufferable, since we’re pointing out the obvious now. Your presence gives me a headache,” he muttered. “Be quiet, there are predators that will track the scent of your blood easily enough without your yapping giving away our location.”

Why was he voicing concern over this when he was clearly the biggest predator here?