Ygdris is still talking. His face is twisted with hatred. “The Emperor-Prince hoards worlds and calls it protection. Tell me, Tay Walker, do you feel protected?”
I swallow. The Emperor-Prince. “Right now, or in general?”
I meant it to come out like a joke. Instead, my voice wobbles.
An instant later, Ygdris has leapt over the sofa and is stalking towards me.
I back up until I hit the wall. “Hey – what are you—”
The dragon stops close enough that I can see his chest heave, but he’s not touching me. He’s not even looking at me. So I stare at him, wide-eyed, my heart thudding in my ears. His eyes are blazing, all the glimmering jewel-tones of ice at dawn.
“You’re terrified.”
I don’t say anything. My whole body is wound tight with anticipation, and my breaths are shallow… I’m sure it looks like terror. Oh, God.
A muscle in his cheek twitches and I drop my eyes just before he looks at me. I keep my eyes locked on his chest. He’s breathing heavily.
“You saved my life. You brought me here when you could have left me to die or killed me yourself. Sun and stars, Tay Walker, I know none of your kind have any reason to wish my kind well. But you are…”
His voice changes, and my lips tingle with the memory of his kiss.
“You are so much more than I expected,” he whispers, and reaches out to me. “I never thought…”
Oh, God. What’s wrong with me? I’m not even looking into his eyes, he can’t be glamouring me… but I want him. My knees are trembling. My whole body is thrilling, not from the electric force of his gaze but from inside. This isn’t him, this is my yearning, it’s—
Go on. Let him degrade you. Isn’t that what you want? Let him use you. It’s all you’re good for.
“Don’t,” I burst out when his hand is so close to my face I can feel the promise of its warmth on my skin. “If you’re going to do this, compel me. Order me to enjoy it.”
He snaps his hand back like he’s been burned. For a moment, we both stand frozen, his gaze an electric storm on my face, me desperately hoping he takes my burning cheeks and ragged breath as signs of fear and not what they really are.
It works. He steps back, the hand he’d held out to me curling at his side, and I slump against the wall.
“Forgive me,” he mutters. “Yesterday, I promised you salvation, and today I terrorise you.”
I heave in a breath like a sob and wipe my hand across my mouth. It doesn’t help. My lips are still tingling, and as for the rest of my body… “Well, you’re a dragon. It comes with the territory. In fact, I think you just summed up the last twenty years of this planet’s history. Nice.”
“Tay…” Ygdris draws himself up. “I cannot ask you to excuse me. And I cannot tell you not to feel afraid.” His fists clench. “If the situation were different – but it isn’t. I can only believe that my investigation led to you for a reason. And, Tay, I swear to you, you need not fear me. I would never take you unwillingly, and I would never use my power to compel you to desire me.”
I should feel reassured. Instead I think I’m about to be sick.
A pit opens inside me, cold and black and suckingly empty. Black like the water under the Dome. Like the sea monster’s scales. But this time I don’t have any dragon glamour pushing me to escape. Just the blackness, pulling me in.
If Ygdris isn’t compelling me to desire him, then all this, everything I feel, is me. And it shouldn’t be. After what happened ten years ago, I should have been safe from that, at least.
But I’m not. All these years I’ve thought I was surviving, but I’m more broken than ever. Broken, and wrong, and depraved.
Ygdris is still talking. I fight to focus on him, to drag my mind away from the black pit inside me.
“…If I had any other choice… but there is none. I am running out of time. He sighs. “Regardless of any other considerations, I still require your assistance.”
I feel like I’m swimming against a current. My mind keeps getting swept away, down towards that endless black pit.
You’re broken. Useless. Just like he always said.
This isn’t a trap. He doesn’t care enough about you to set a trap, not anymore. You’re worthless. Less than worthless.
I struggle to the surface. “This job,” I choke out, filtering through what I caught of his conversation. “You haven’t told me what it is, yet.”