After I was dry, I was prepared the same way as before, with an ugly dress and bad hair. We were led through another set of doors, although not to a throne room this time. We all waited in a line, the dragon handlers occasionally using their weapons to beat a dragon into submission.
“What is that now, a full dozen guards lost?” said Tamara, standing in her cluster of guards in front of me, looking around at them. “When are you going to learn that we don’t like going to your parties?”
“The second you’re not needed, I’ll take great pleasure in killing you,” replied the surly demon holding her.
“You won’t last that long,” Tamara answered, her confidence a great balloon around her.
The line started moving faster, our guards shoving us along. At a large double door, demons were checking people in as we came up. A green-skinned demon to the right, wearing a silk gown that matched the color of her skin, eyed me as we approached the front.
“Cage,” a guard said as we stopped in front of the attendants.
Tamara was beside me, her guard telling the male demon in a tuxedo the same thing. It was something they’d probably repeat about all the dragons.
“What is that smell?” the green demon asked, crinkling her nose.
“It’s something to do with her shifter mate or something, I don’t know. I’m just supposed to get her from the dungeon to the cage. Which one?”
With a pained expression, she took a step to the side, out of the way. “Put her in the fifth cage, next to the alpha dragon. They’ll be a nice spectacle.”
“Tenth cage,” the male demon said to Tamara’s guards. “Strip her.”
I could see Tamara’s jaw clench as we started through the door. She lifted her chin defiantly, though. She was refusing to let this get to her.
I let out a slow breath, my gut twisting. But at least she’d be in a cage, away from groping hands. Also, she was a shifter—she was probably mostly fine in her skin. Nyfain always had been.
Why would they bother dressing her up if they were just going to strip her? I asked my dragon as we were escorted into a huge room with crystal chandeliers dripping down in several places. Raised golden cages encircled the floor, mostly near the walls, although two were pushed a little closer together on the far right, just off the stage where a band was setting up. Those cages were a sort of focal point, like an attraction. I already knew we’d be gawked at as people sauntered to and from the dance floor.
Govam stood just beside one of the “show” cages, watching four guards pushing Micah in. Micah stared at Govam the whole time, and I could tell it was an intimidation tactic for the smaller-statured demon. If Govam was worried about it, though, he didn’t let it show.
My guard yanked and shoved me toward the second cage, acting as though I were resisting for some reason, and I wondered where all the wolves and faeries had gone. There was no sign of them. Only servants scurried around the huge rectangular room, seeing to the large food tables and fixing the various decorations.
The golden cage holding Micah clanged shut, and the guards stepped back, looking at him.
“You’ll want to behave yourself tonight,” Govam said as the golden cage next to Micah’s was opened for me. “The king has some important guests. He won’t take kindly to one of them being killed.”
“Then he better warn them to stay away from my cage,” Micah responded, his voice soft, his tone terrifying.
Govam glanced at me as my guards shoved me into my cage and closed the door.
“Turn,” Micah’s guards said, echoed by mine a moment later.
I did as Micah did, backing up and sticking my hands out through the cage. Our cuffs were removed at the same time. As I stepped forward, rubbing my wrists, he shoved farther back and grabbed the front of one of the guards.
“Watch out,” one shouted as another yelled. Govam didn’t so much as step forward to help.
Micah surged forward, the guard in his hands, and rammed the guard’s front against the cage. Incredibly fast, he turned and adjusted his hold, turning the guard toward him and wrapping his large, strong hands around the creature’s neck. Staring at Govam the whole time, he ignored the clubs whacking at him as he calmly choked the life out of the guard.
I stood, transfixed, my mouth hanging open.
He doesn’t fuck around, my dragon said, in awe.
Only when the guard stopped struggling did Micah release him and step away, out of reach of the guards and their clubs. His stare was still on Govam.
“Someday that’ll be you,” he said in a voice out of a nightmare.
Tingles coated my flesh, and my dragon stirred, a soft purr winding through her at the display of power and violence.