The Broken Wolf

Chapter 4 - Dragon

My answer is a coy smile and a wink that has a vein on her forehead pulsing. The cell door creaks open. I step out calmly, brushing my arms off with the palms of my hands as if getting rid of the invisible layer of dirt in the cell.

"The faster we leave here, the faster I get home." Bianca is already moving towards the exit.

"Wait, before I forget." I say as soon as I'm beside her. Waving my hands over her own, her wrists bind together in a purple smoke. Bianca's eyes snap up to me with a growl, but I quickly throw my hands in the air in surrender. "Optics. It has to look like I'm transferring a fugitive."

"I am not a fugitive." She snaps.

"Semantics." Placing my palm up, I give her way first. "Shall we?"

***

Bianca

The Mind Fucker.

Of course it had to be him. He lets me walk a step-in front of him as if I can't feel his presence. My blood boils at the very sight of him. He just had to be the one to show his face in my prison cell. It couldn't have been anyone else in the world. No, it had to be him.

Dressed in his absurd Royal Attire—a black shirt underneath a dark aristocrat vest. There are intricate details sewn into the vest so whenever he breathes it shimmers purple as if the seams are glowing.

I've noticed his dark hair is longer and I wilder than I remember, curling slightly around the edges. It wasn't until I got closer to him to realized that the purple tendrils of his Magic seem to be curling with it.

I met Killian years ago during my first visit to the Palace and I've ignored him since. For years I eluded him like a phantom in the night. The idea of having someone in my head makes me dizzy and nauseated. It makes it so much worse that he acts as if his Gift is nothing to be feared.

I would be stupid—idiotic—not being afraid of him. The notorious, scary Mind Warper. Never did I realize just how powerful he is until this last winter when he latched his powers onto the God Fenrir.

Even my own people, the Sierran's of the mountains, have given him the title of warrior—Drengr. It's our word for hero. Reserved for our most valiant and brave warriors. It just gives me another reason to be so pissed at him.

Killian does a good job hiding. With the partying and drugs and notorious bachelor life the entire supernatural community knows about. But I can see that power behind his violet eyes, no matter whatever façade he chooses to wear.

There are too many things to hate about him. More than I can count. His relationship with my sister-in-law, his closeness to the Crown, the fact he's an outsider. Most importantly, the secrets. There's an array of red flags I can't even begin to process.

But the worst of all is that he knows my past just as much as my family does.

Anger bubbles up in the pit of my stomach as I think back to that flashy grin he gave me just now as if he weren't completely aware of everything.

I try, for the life of me, to forget the night on the deck. Every fiber in my body is screaming. My wolf has to reign me in.

Be nice. She encourages me. Take a deep breath.

He cuffed me.

You know he's just trying to help.

I don't give a shit. I snap at her, He cuffed me.

You can still shift, Bi.

I get ready to fight her on it when I suddenly realize it too. The Magic around my wrists feels strange, like catching smoke. But my wolf and her abilities are fine.