Page 11 of Dragon Revealed (Dragon Kings 1)
Chapter Seven
Varek’s words lingered long after Jeyra left him. She suspected that he would most likely tell her more, but she needed time to absorb what she had learned so far. She sat in her flat, staring into the empty fireplace as a candle flickered on the table beside her. Her mind drifted back to when Varek had spoken about his realm and the battle with the humans. There was no way to know if he was telling the truth about any of it. There could be a grain of accuracy in the story, or it could be completely made up, simply to save his hide.
For a Dragon King who had known immortality for eons as he’d said, and had magic every day of his life, he must be suffering greatly. And yet he hadn’t complained once. He hadn’t asked for anything regarding his injuries, either. He wasn’t at all what she had anticipated. Though, to be fair, she hadn’t planned to share one word with him once she delivered him to the authorities. Being told she had to get information from him had been an unexpected blow.
Jeyra couldn’t stop thinking about the poignant loss she saw in Varek’s eyes when he talked about the dragons’ deaths. Or worse, when he told her about how they’d sent the dragons away. She didn’t want to feel sorry for him, and the fact that he’d managed to make her continue thinking about him and his story irritated her.
He was the enemy. Nothing he said should matter.
But it does. There’s no getting around that.
She was really beginning to hate her subconscious. Yet, she couldn’t disagree.
Her thoughts then turned to his excitement at the prospect of her realm having dragons. She knew he was thinking of somehow freeing himself. That wouldn’t happen, but she didn’t bother to share that tidbit with him. It suited her purposes to allow him to believe that there was a chance—however slim—of getting out of the dungeon and going home.
Jeyra refused to spend another minute thinking about Varek. She rose and grabbed the base of the candle to carry into her bedroom. After removing her clothes, she doused the flame and climbed beneath the blanket. However, sleep evaded her. Through the long hours of the night, she tossed and turned, catching brief moments of rest before she woke again to stare up at the dark ceiling.
And each time, her mind went to the one place she didn’t want it to go—Varek.
When the first streaks of light crossed the sky, she rose, washed, and dressed. Jeyra briefly considered going to the arena to train, but her head wasn’t in it. All she would do was find her arse planted on the ground because she wouldn’t be able to concentrate. And that’s the last thing she wanted.
Instead, she stopped in the market district for a loaf of bread, some dried venison, and a block of her favorite smoked cheese, along with a jug of goat’s milk. Her stomach grumbled, and she realized that she hadn’t eaten the night before. The fact that Varek and his words had troubled her enough to miss a meal, as well as sleep, vexed her. A lot.
To complicate her already bad morning, two council guards stopped her and ordered her to follow them. Jeyra tried to pretend there weren’t numerous eyes on her, watching everything. The one thing she detested most was the gossipmongers looking for anything and everything to blather about. With yesterday’s council meeting and then being requested to return, she would definitely be the talk of the city.
Jeyra followed the guards through the streets to the extravagant building that housed the council meetings. Once inside, she was shown to a table where she set down the food items she’d bought before being brought before the assembly room.
She took a deep breath as the large door was opened, and the guards waved her inside. Her gaze immediately went to where Rankin always stood, but he wasn’t there. Her eyes quickly scanned the large room, but he was nowhere to be found. Other warriors were there, so his absence was intentional. Was it because he didn’t want to be around her? Or could it be because he was on a mission?
Jeyra kept the questions to herself and bowed her head to the council as was expected of her. Five pairs of eyes stared at her. She studied the three women and two men, each as different from each other as night and day. Yet, they were also similar in many, many ways.
“Do you have news for us?” Arn asked.
She barely held back a snort. “I received the council’s request only yesterday. It’s going to take time to build rapport with the prisoner.”
“That means she doesn’t have anything,” Palmira stated.
Jeyra’s gaze slid to the older woman. There wasn’t much left of the faded red in Palmira’s gray head of hair now. She kept the long coils loose with the sides pinned back by brightly colored gemstone pins. The years had not been kind to her, lining her face with a multitude of wrinkles, particularly around her mouth. She wore a perpetual frown, her blue eyes cutting like shards of glass. She only wore various shades of yellow that accented her golden-brown skin. With her penchant for sweets and her considerable girth, she always had a shawl that she used to cover her arms, and the lack of armbands—an adornment she didn’t wear because of her size.
“I need more time.” Jeyra wasn’t sure why she said such a thing. She could’ve given them the story Varek had told her the day before. She still wasn’t sure why she hadn’t. Or why she’d asked for more time when the very thought of having to face him again made her want to do literally anything else.
Yet those weren’t the words that fell from her lips. And she couldn’t take them back now.
Arn looked at the other four council members, each bowing their heads at him in response to some silent question. The leader then swung his attention to Jeyra. “Do what needs to be done, but get the prisoner talking. Report to us tomorrow morning.”
Jeyra turned and walked from the room, wondering what the hell had come over her. She blamed it on lack of sleep as she collected her food and made her way out of the building. When she strode into the dungeon, she seethed with anger. Anger at the council for giving her the order, anger at Rankin for not standing with her yesterday, anger at herself for asking for more time with her enemy, and anger at Varek for making her feel sorry for him.
She came to a sudden halt when her gaze landed on him. Varek had his back to her, and despite what little light was available from the torches, she saw he was naked from the waist up. There was a large bruise on his left side that extended onto his back. Her thoughts quieted when he dumped water over his head, and the sound of the chains rang loudly. She watched droplets run down his back and into the waist of his pants while more fell onto the packed ground and beaded there.
Even as she told herself not to look, her eyes moved to his head. His blond hair fell onto his forehead and cheeks as he bent at the waist. He splashed water on his face before dumping more over his head. Her eyes followed his right hand as it scrubbed at the back of his neck, then down his left arm. His left hand repeated the movements on the right side. He then tossed his head back, spraying her with water.
