My brows lift.
According to Ruse, Sabersythes drop their tusks every shed, but they’re remarkably hard to find.
I think back to the first time I purchased a sliver for Essi. Ruse said they don’t dislodge until the beast is well into its spurt of growth, often swallowed by Gondragh’s volcanoes since that’s where Sabersythes flock to complete their shed, burrowed away from anything that might harm their delicate state. I also quickly found out they’re worth ten times their weight in dragon bloodstone, serving as a bonding agent most Runi’s use for their etchings.
Wrook’s nose twitches, his scratching foot coming slowly down to rest against the floor. “How big is the t-t-tusk?”
“The size of my leg.”
My gaze drops to said leg, eyes widening.
“Deal,” Wrook spits, his response swifter than the snap of Rekk’s whip.
I smile, pride warming my chest.
Good for him. Love a happy ending.
“I’ll purchase your sentence and have you out by the rise,” the male says, just stalking by my cell when he stops, drawing a deep sniff of the air, his head turning in my direction slower than a setting aurora.
My breath flees.
His gaze rakes across my shadowed form, like he’s trying to sweep past the curtains of filth and shadow to my unveiled face.
I tuck my chin to my chest, loose tendrils of hair falling forward to curtain me.
Leave.
Leave.
Leave—
“It’s you,” he rumbles, and my heart drops, the hairs on the back of my neck lifting. “Come forth into the light.”
“Who died and made you king?” I rasp past my ruined throat.
“My pah,” he deadpans, and a laugh bubbles out of me, tapering off before the excess motion has a chance to rip my wounds and make them weep again.
“Funny.”
Silence reigns.
He steps closer to the bars, arms crossed over his broad chest, the uncomfortable absence of sound dragging on for so long it pecks at me.
“Were you … waiting for something?” I ask, frowning.
“Yes. For you to shift into the light so I can see your face.”
I snort-laugh.
Righteous asshole.
“No, thank you. You’ll have to step through those iron bars and drag me into the light yourself.”
There’s a moment of pause before he grips the lock hanging from my door, knuckles blanching. The metal creaks and groans, and he rips his arm down—
I suck a sharp breath as the lock comes away.
Broken.
He lifts his hand and makes a show of loosening his fingers, letting the useless lump of metal fall to the ground with a clatter that echoes off the walls to the tune of my rallying heart.
Fuck.
“I’m not usually one to take things from a female that aren’t given freely,” he rumbles, swinging the latch off the hook. “However, your voice reminds me of somebody I used to know, and I’ve spent five sleepless slumbers convinced I’m going mad.”
He boots the door open, the sound of squealing hinges carving across my nerves, reminding me of times I was dragged from another cell—feet first, fingernails gouging the stone while I snarled through gritted teeth.
He takes the first step in, and I pull my feet back toward my bum, gritting my teeth against a bludgeoning howl as I push my weight against my shredded back and leverage myself to a wobbly stand. “Hate to break it to you like this,” I hiss, “but I’d never seen you before that slumber on the south side of the wall.”
“For your sake,” he growls, stalking forward, packing the space full of his massive presence, “I hope you’re wrong.”
“And if I’m not?”
He steps into my shadow, almost close enough for me to reach out and touch him, my next breath laced with a drugging punch of his rich, molten scent.
He flips back his hood, revealing that beautiful, hard face.
My lungs snag at the sight of him.
Lips pinched in a line, he steals another step forward.
“And if I’m not?”
“Vaghth,” he whispers, the scalding word a flame against my conscience.
My spine stiffens, every nerve in my body tingling in all the wrong ways.
The lantern overhead rattles—like something inside is trying to escape. One of its tiny panes pops, a shred of flame fluttering down into his cupped hand and cradled before my face like a mold of clay.
His thick black brows collide, his face blanching as my teeth clamp together, heart seizing.
Eye bulging.
I look at that flame like the spitting, scalding enemy it is, waiting for him to drag it across my flesh and paint a puckered trail.