She’d never been able to figure out exactly what the dragons had hoped to do.
They’d never touched her—but she’d been lost in the potion-induced nightmares for so long that in the end, she hadn’t even felt safe in her own mind anymore. Shadow and fire had eaten away at her, as if they were trying to burn the humanity out of her.
And perhaps that was what they’d been trying to do. But in the end, Alyx had turned out to be a failure. She was still just as human. The shadows and fire that invaded her mind left as soon as the potion was out of her system.
After two weeks, Alyx had been released from those terrible experiments and cast aside, a useless, defenseless human trapped in a realm of terrifying fire dragons.
Alyx traced the brush inlaid with mother-of-pearl, forcing herself to take in its beauty. Once, beauty had been what she’d lived for.
And that part of her wasn’t dead yet, no matter what the fire dragons had tried to do.
One day she’d escape. And until then, she’d be grateful that Zena was bored and lonely and wanted a human woman to keep her company.
“I’ll read to you while you do my hair,” the woman said imperiously.
Zena was a bit of a mystery. She had to be at least in her forties, although her tastes were those of someone born a century or two ago. For all that she had an entire chest of books in her rooms, they were all books written in the nineteenth century.
Zena had never heard of Bridget Jones or Sex and the City. Meanwhile, Alyx’s only exposure to the old Russian novels Zena liked was a period drama her mother had adored.
In the end, they’d settled on Jane Austen. They’d made it through Pride and Prejudice and Sense and Sensibility and had now arrived at Mansfield Park.
For a precious hour, Alyx felt all her worries and fears vanish as she allowed Zena’s voice to carry her away to a world of mansions and gentleman callers and balls.
There was something very soothing about sinking into the stories and characters Zena loved. There’d be a happy ending and people ended up realizing who truly loved them.
As she ran the brush through Zena’s hair, Alyx felt herself relax. Slowly, carefully, she braided the long red hair. There was a single lock of white hair in it, which gave away Zena’s age, although it didn’t make her look old exactly—just experienced and mysterious.
Once she’d arranged and pinned the braids in place at the back of Zena’s head, Alyx began to put Zena’s makeup on.
Who knew that all those years of being a fashion expert would be so useful one day! From the hottest column of the city straight to being a shifter’s maid.
She smiled at herself, carefully applying the highlighter along Zena’s cheekbones.
Really, it was something to be grateful for. She didn’t kid herself—Zena belonged to the shifters who’d kidnapped her and kept her captive.
But all the same, Zena was safety. Better to pretend to be some sort of old-fashioned maid than return to those terrifying days of the poison ravaging her mind...
“What’s wrong? You stopped.”
Zena’s voice broke through the terrible memory, and Alyx quickly shook it off.
“Nothing. Sorry. Continue, please—I want to know how it all ends.”
Alyx forced herself to smile as she reached for the small box of jewelry.
She couldn’t trust Zena. She needed to remember that.
I’m just another human to her. A toy to entertain her and keep her company. Like how other people keep a toy poodle. But ultimately, she’s a shifter and I’m a human, and she wouldn’t raise a hand to protect me if it meant she’d endanger her own standing here.
As Zena continued to read, Alyx carefully fastened golden clips sparkling with yellow, red, and orange gemstones to her hair. Then, at last, Zena sighed and put the book away, rising to choose a dress to wear.
As Zena reached out for an elaborate red dress of embroidered silk, Alyx felt her heart sink.
That sort of dress meant that Zena was leaving her rooms for a meeting with the fire dragons. Which meant that Alyx would be sent back to her tiny, drab cell, with no entertainment or company to make the captivity more bearable.
“You might want to use the mirror and fix your hair.” Zena arched a brow at her. “It looks like some bird made its nest in it.”
Alyx hurried over to the mirror, grimacing at her reflection. She was a far cry from the city’s sexiest curvy fashion expert. She looked as if she’d come straight out of one of Zena’s nineteenth century novels, all gray and mousy and terrified.