Junia's POV
I heaved out a breath before knocking on Ashmaris's study door. And now I am regretting my decision. I shouldn't have agreed to Ignara.
I was doing this just to make Ignara happy. I had said a lot of things despite the fact that she was nice to me.
I knocked again when there was no response.
Is he ignoring me?
But Ignara told me he was working in his study. How can he not hear me ?
Still no response.
I pushed the door open in anger.
"I have been knocking, you can't tell—" my words hung in my mouth.
Ashmaris had his back to me, and his upper body was naked. Red markings covered almost every part of his back.
His back was broad and powerful, the muscles layered like sculpted stone under his skin. Every movement caused them to ripple along his shoulders.
He turned.
And my mouth opened wide.
"I wasn't in the study. I just got back a few moments ago," he said, putting on his shirt.
"..."
"Do you need something?" he asked.
"The markings… do they hurt?"
"No."
"Were you born with them?"
"No. They were carved into my skin when I came of age."
"That is cruel."
He chuckled lowly.
That chuckle snapped me out of whatever trance I was in. I actually sounded like I cared.
"No, it wasn't."
We stayed silent for a while. I looked everywhere but at him. It was awkward, and I was trying to act nice to him.
Like I had forgiven him.
What should I say to him?
"How long have you and Malrien been friends?" I asked. It was stupid, but I didn't know what else to say.
He wasn't saying anything, and I hated when things got awkward.
"Since we were children," he answered shortly.
"Could you shape-shift into a dragon when you were a child?" I asked. It was stupid, but I was curious.
Back home, it was different. I learned about dragons, and I had been taught that some were kind and some elegant.
"No. We could only shift into a half dragon–human form," he replied. He didn't delay his response.
"Can I see?" I stepped closer. Something was pulling me toward him. I didn't miss how quickly he responded to me.
"See what?"
"Your dragon-human form."
He didn't say anything, His gaze settled on me.
His horns ripped through his skull.
His fingers changed into talons in a split second.
Then a large set of wings emerged.
I stepped even closer, my hands finding their way to his face. He leaned down to give me access. My hand slipped into his hair, then to his horns.
"What kind of element do you have?" I asked. His body wasn't tense; he was relaxed.
"Fire, ice, and acid," he answered.
I pulled away from him. "I am a prismatic dragon."
"I haven't heard about that one."
"What do the Seelie fairies learn about?" he asked, his voice laced with mockery.
"Anything but unruly dragons," I retorted. I was ready to spit out every insult I knew.
And he laughed, like what just happened was funny. I furrowed my brows.
"I shouldn't have listened to Ignara and come here," I mumbled and turned to walk away.
He caught my arm, stopping me in my tracks.
"Stay."
I turned, yanked my arm from him, and folded my arms under my bust. "Why should I? Do you have something to say to me?"
"Yes." He cleared his throat. "I wanted to ask you to mate with me after the seal has been removed. I want to ask you politely."
Politely?
That sounded like a command.
Wait. He told me if I couldn't remove the bracelet—
I agreed without even thinking. I palmed my face.
What have I done?
"No," I refused, making sure my voice was firm.
"We agreed—" he started.
"We didn't agree to anything. And that wasn't polite. And there's something called wooing. If you want a lady, you woo her," I told him, averting my gaze.
"How do you want me to woo you?" he asked.
I turned to him.
Does he not know how to woo a woman?
"I don't know. Don't ask me," I huffed. I was pissed. He was an idiot.
He was silent for a while.
"Have lunch with me," he said suddenly.
My eyes widened, and I smiled. He figured it out quickly. "I can't today. Maybe another day."
He didn't even try to convince me.
I walked toward the door, moving slowly. Maybe he would stop me. I was about to push the door open when he spoke.
"What about dinner?"
I smiled without turning back. "I will think about it."
I walked out of his study.
On my way to my chamber, I realized I hadn't argued with Ashmaris and I wasn't angry when I left his study.
"Lady Junia," a female voice called.
I turned. It was a maidservant.
"Yes?"
"Lady Ishkara told me to bring you to lunch." The maid bowed her head.
"Okay." I smoothed out my dress. "Please lead the way."
The maid took me further into the palace, far away from the women's quarters.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
"Just a little further," the maid murmured as we descended a staircase that led to a tower.
The breeze slapped my face, and the aroma of food waltzed into my nose.
"Junia," I heard Ishkara's voice.
There were other Draconian ladies seated there, poised and elegant.
"Ishkara," I greeted with a smile.
Her nostrils flared, like she smelled something.
She frowned but quickly schooled her expression. "Join us. The ladies are excited to meet you."
Ishkara led me toward the women, who already had their eyes on me.
"This is Junia. I know we all know who she is," Ishkara said.
They nodded, smiles on their lips.
"Hello," I said, waving.
Their gazes were intense, as if they were trying to figure me out.
I shifted uncomfortably.
"Please, come sit." Ishkara was already seated at the table.
I joined them, sitting next to her.
The dinner bored me. The ladies didn't bother to include me in their conversation—except Ishkara. They talked about various things that didn't interest me.
I stood near the tower window, staring at the sky.
"Did you enjoy your food?" Ishkara asked from behind.
I turned to face her. "Yes," I smiled.
"I wanted to talk to you." She stepped closer.
"Do you miss your home?" she asked.
"Yes."
The Dragonhold was different from my home. It wasn't colorful. No loud music.
T
his place felt like walking on thin ice. Every movement was calculated. Careful.
"I can help you escape," she said softly.
My body stiffened. I knew none of them wanted me here. It would only benefit them if they got rid of me.
"Why do you want to help me?"
"You want to go home, don't you?"
I hesitated. "Yes."
But do I really want to go back?
"When would you like to leave? I could make arrangements—"
"I'm sorry." I stepped away from her.
"Don't you want to leave? I know you do," she pressed.
My heart beat hard against my ribs.
Here was an opportunity to run.
And I wasn't taking it.
"I will come talk to you when I am ready," I said.
Without waiting for her response, I walked away.