Chapter 1
Saedra- age 13
“You’re nothing! Do you hear me?! Nothing!”
Saedra huddled in the corner of the kitchen by the freezer unit and nodded frantically at her father’s explosive declaration. Agreement was the only response. She was well familiar with how he got during one of his rages. Throughout the day she’d heard his voice lashing out at everyone in their household.
She’d done well, for the most part, staying in her room, keeping her bedroom door closed. As the hours rolled by with no lessening in the volume of his ranting, she’d watched the imitation sunlight through her window fade and give way to the purple-blue glaze of night. Her thoughts had strayed to her mother and Saedra contemplated if death had given poor Lady Florene the peace she’d never had under this roof.
Saedra would have stayed in her room forever to avoid the nightmare taking place beyond her door except hunger had forced her from her self-protective isolation. It was pure misfortune that Maurin came into the kitchen just as she finished stuffing the last bite of a quick sandwich in her mouth.
His yellow eyes glazed with madness and clashed with the dull hue of his Dragonian golden scales. Her father was descended of hybrid Dragons. Unlike their dragon ancestors, though, Dragonians couldn’t shift into menacing creatures of rage and destruction. They did have twice the strength of their humanoid counterparts and scales covering the majority of their body, which made harming them harder.
Saedra hadn’t gotten any of that. Not one noticeable sliver of her Dragonian heritage. Thus she was average in looks and abilities, making her father deem her useless. She took after her mother as far as her delicate constitution...and in terms of physical stamina. Something she felt fueled a lot of her father’s anger toward her.
Her mother had been a gifted Meeta, her people born with various psychic abilities from healing to telepathic thoughts and everything in between. Florene’s gift had been a magical voice capable of pulling others under her spell. On top of that, she’d been quite pretty to look at with her ice-blue eyes and fall of pure white hair.
Florene caught the eyes of men when she traveled with a music troupe and performed. So it was no surprise when Maurin fell for her but it was a surprise when she fell for him in return. Of course, she’d harbored the hope that he was wealthy enough to take care of her, so she didn’t have to perform anymore.
Instead, he was cruel and abusive, leaving her trapped with a monster. He’d slashed her throat the first night after their marriage to damage her voice so she couldn’t mesmerize him. It had been the beginning of her festering hate for her husband.
“Say something!” Maurin roared into Saedra’s face.
“I’ll go now,” she mumbled with her gaze aimed to the side as she hesitantly rose to her feet and slid her back along the wall in hopes of escaping back to her bedroom.
His eyes darkened from its gold hue to a deep shade of blue and the shoulder length brown hair she’d inherited from him in the genetic lottery stood on end. When his thin lips curled in that familiar way, Saedra knew it was going to be bad. Very bad.
His voice lowered but was no less frightening in its intensity. “You think to get away with no consequences?!”
She didn’t ask what she supposedly was getting away with. It didn’t matter when her father deemed her guilty of some transgression. It never did. That’s why she’d learned to be good at hiding in her room.
The door to the kitchen swung open and one of his men entered. Parson glanced around to identify the commotion, spotted her, and smirked. He’d quickly surmised the situation if his expression was anything to go by. His grin was as evil as his past actions. He did her father’s bidding without compunction.
“Do you need my help with anything, Lord Maurin?”
Parson’s voice was sickly sweet as he used the false title. There was no royalty in their bloodlines. Lord and Lady were just fancy titles her father claimed and demanded everyone use for them here on Quantoon.
Her father released her from his penetrating glare to face Parson. Something passed between them as they exchanged knowing glances that left Saedra shivering. Running would be pointless. She remained pressed against the wall, the food in her stomach curdling.
Would this be the time her father released his men from the unspoken order that no one touch her? She was thirteen and her woman’s time came every three months without fail, similar to a Dragonian female. Usually, her father confined her to her rooms during her heat cycles, so she didn’t ‘tempt’ his men. Her mother before she died had warned Saedra that no matter what happened, Saedra needed to be out of her father’s house and far from his reach when she reached legal age and gave her father the ability to sell her anyway he saw fit.
“No help needed, Parson,” Maurin drawled, eyeing Saedra once more. “I just need to teach my daughter a lesson. Send the other guards in.”
Irritation lit Parson’s gaze and the look he cast Saedra’s way contained barely masked violence. “Of course, my Lord.”
Parson bowed as he rushed out and another blast of terror filled Saedra. Excuses flowed through her mind. Something, anything to distract her father from whatever lesson he thought she needed to learn. “I was hungry. I’ll go to my room. I won’t come out. You won’t see me. Promise. I promise.”
Even to her own ears, she sounded like she was babbling but her gut burned and fear was a living beast inside her body as her heart slammed against her chest in a frantic pace that turned her breathing choppy.
“Shut up!”
Saedra shut up.
“Come here.”
Hesitating was never a good idea. Against her instinct to run and hide, Saedra approached. Her arm pits grew dampened. She was breathing so fast red spots floated in front of her eyes and she worried she’d pass out. When Saedra was within inches of his scuffed, large booted feet, Maurin arched his arm back and swung at her.
The open palm slap sent her to her knees on a sharp cry. She clasped her aching cheek and looked up in shock. Not because it was the first time he’d hit her. That had started mere months after her mother died, making Saedra the replacement receptacle for his rage. No, she was shocked because they weren’t in his room or a private corridor. He usually contained his violence toward her away from prying eyes.
Although no one here would race to her defense. Not if they valued their life and that of every member in their family. Maurin’s punishments were never simple and always trickled down.
He crouched on one knee before her and clasped the front of her neck in his thick fingers.
Please no, please no, she prayed to herself as her hands and feet scrabbled for balance on the floor beneath her.
“Do you know why I must teach you a lesson?” he asked quietly.
The door opened to the right of them and the creak and shuffle of multiple feet entering the kitchen area ratcheted up Saedra’s bone-chilling dread. Swallowing but unable to speak beyond the lump in her throat, she shook her head. There was barely enough air getting through to breathe.
Her father’s mouth tipped up on the edges. His expression was filled with malevolence and a promise. His fingers squeezed steadily until the floating lights across her vision became warning flares to her brain.
Maurin stood and lifted Saedra until her toes barely scraped the floor. Then he flung her as hard as he could. Saedra didn’t have time to gasp. Her back met the wall with a loud crack and an arc of pain shot up her spine. She slid awkwardly down, her legs sprawled before her.