Mr. Baritone appeared in front of me like a phantom. A fucking enormous phantom with his broad shoulders and thick chest.
He flexed and leaned toward me. A blast of his power sandpapered my face, rich and heavy. It commanded me to back down. To submit.
Nyfain and I had clearly released his dragon. He wasn’t from Wyvern, I didn’t think, so it was only a matter of time before the suppression spell kicked back in. In the meantime, he thought he’d pull alpha around these parts.
He thought wrong.
I cut through his power with my will, slicing his skin with it on the backstroke. His eyes widened and jaw dropped. Surprise!
He barely lost a beat, though, before grabbing me and swinging me around. He walked forward and shoved my back against cell bars, so quickly I didn’t have time to react. His power beat into me again: Submit!
Kill this motherfucker, my dragon said, and I was pretty sure this last week had made her a little too hungry for blood.
Before I could respond to her with thoughts, or him with will, a great tide of power welled up in me, the likes of which I had never experienced before. Ruthless and volatile, vicious and uncompromising, it made my body quiver as it coursed liquid magma through my blood. A scent curled around me as the power gushed into my middle, pine and lilac with a hint of honeysuckle, a delicious, balmy smell that I knew as well as I knew myself.
Nyfain had felt another alpha try to pull rank with his mate, and he was losing his fucking mind.
I used it, pushing aside Mr. Baritone’s command and then hammering into him with my will. I didn’t lift a finger. I didn’t try to get out of his hold. Nyfain had always said male dragons had the upper hand with physical force, but females had the power of will. I could manifest that will physically, and I wanted to prove it beyond a shadow of doubt.
Gush after endless gush of power battered Mr. Baritone, pounded against him, sliced his skin and pummeled his ribs. Still, Nyfain sent more, his dragon joining the show, turbulent and wild, as they pummeled this other alpha to prove their dominance.
Mr. Baritone seized up, his fists locked in a hard grip around my upper arms. Sweat broke out on his face. His eyebrows stitched together. His eyes kept increasing in size, fully rounded and a little panicked. He’d had no idea what he was messing with.
“Let go,” I said, loud enough for everyone to hear. I stuffed magic into the command.
Mr. Baritone didn’t struggle with the command like Nyfain always did. He didn’t make me wonder whether he would ignore me.
No, his fingers peeled away almost immediately, and he dropped his arms at his sides.
“Step away,” I said, making that command a bit spicy. It would race down his spine violently and tingle his balls uncomfortably.
He took two halting steps, giving me space. His chest rose and fell quickly, and his eyes had taken on a wild edge. Accustomed to being the dominator, Mr. Baritone was now being dominated.
“Submit,” I told him, my dragon right near the surface, riding me hard to make a statement. I could feel Nyfain’s dragon through the bond, pumping in more power, wanting to make a statement just as much as my dragon did.
Mr. Baritone stared at me but didn’t act or comment.
Tell him to kneel, my dragon thought. Saying he’s submitting won’t be enough. Not after the way he manhandled you. Make him kneel, and make sure you don’t have to tell him twice. You’ve already fucked up, allowing him to resist your first command—you need to make this one count.
That seemed a little extreme, but this wasn’t some milquetoast human interaction. There were dragons in the mix, and they were crazy.
I summoned the power. I straightened my body. If there had been any pain left over from the whipping earlier, there was no way in hell I’d feel it with all this power running through me.
“Kneel,” I barked, giving the command everything I had.
My dragon made an ohhhhmmm kinda thought, which typically meant she’d fucked up somehow, and the entire dungeon of people crashed down onto their knees. A few cried out in pain, busting their kneecaps in the process. Some tipped forward with the blow, landing on their faces.
Nyfain’s dragon swelled in pride, which was a pretty solid tip-off that I’d gone too far.
Too much power, my dragon thought. You were supposed to make them, not force them.
What the fuck is the difference? I thought-shouted at her.
She retreated, slinking away and leaving me to deal with the fallout. What a shithead.
“Damn it,” I muttered, facing the other shifters, all of whom looked up at me with wary and/or pain-filled eyes. “Sorry, everyone. Sorry! Honestly, my dragon has been suppressed most of my life. I’ve never even shifted! Remember me saying that? It’s true. The only reason I know she’s a dragon is because Nyfain, the prince of Wyvern, is my true mate. We have a bond, and his dragon and my dragon are a couple of real assholes. I’m serious. They said to make a statement and…sorry.”