Draygon Inferno | Book 2 | ✔️

Chapter Sixteen

            Siobhan gritted her teeth, pounding a fist against her thigh. This man couldn't be her brother. It was a trick. A vile, sadistic, trick. Her brother was dead and she was sick and tired of people playing games with her head. She growled and grabbed her dagger from the ground and lunged toward her false brother. He didn't move when she pressed the dagger to his jugular, her hand trembling, but ready to slice a smile into his throat.

"Who are you?" She hissed, showing him her fangs as if she was ready to bite into his flesh. Against another Draygon it wasn't a particularly strong threat.

"Do you always greet people you're suspicious of with a dagger to their neck, Sibby?"

"Yes."

Siobhan didn't acknowledge Wren answering for her, nor did she offer an answer of her own. She growled and narrowed her eyes. Fake Cion continued to stare back at her with those familiar white Draygon eyes. She had to hand it to the phony; he was realistic, complete with the birthmark above his left eye that closely resembled a smiling face. He even had Cion's same braid hanging over the right side of his face, curving under his jaw. Siobhan had braided it for him when he was younger and he always came to her for a refresh when it grew too long. It was the only lengthy part of his hair, the rest was a smooth shave of black and white.

"Do you really want to spend what little time I have in this form questioning me? It took you longer than I anticipated talking to the dragons, my hour is almost up."

"Who the hell are you?"

Fake Cion sighed. "It's me, Sibby. I'm Cion. If you don't believe me then we have a perfectly good tool at our disposal for it to be proven." He pointed toward the Dragons glass. "Ask it how I'm here. Wren can take over the task of holding a dagger to my throat if you wish."

Siobhan grunted and stepped back, keeping her dagger raised. She didn't take her eyes of fake Cion as she walked backwards up the stairs. It wasn't until she reached the top of the dais that she sheathed her dagger and turned to the dragons glass.

"Take this vial, Wren, because by the time she's done my hour will be up," fake Cion said.

Siobhan took a breath and touched the glass, ignoring everything else. Whoever he really was, he was going to be lucky if he left this cave with any appendages intact, let alone his life. She didn't even know why she was using the glass to prove it wasn't him. Maybe there was a part of her that hoped it was true. Maybe it would be easier to see it was a lie then to think it's one. Her fingers trembled against the glass as she took another breath.

"What happened to the real Cion?"

The glass turned to white as it did with Wren, before shifting to a bedroom . . . her bedroom. At least what used to be her bedroom in the palace of Draygon. Her teal curtains remained tied to her bedposts as they were the last time she'd used the room herself. Cion, the real Cion, paced in the room slamming a leather-bound book against his palm. He whirled on his feet when the door opened.

"What has gotten into you?" Siobhans step mother Kaylis curled her hands against her hips, glaring at her son. "We have guests and you rudely interrupt our dinner."

"Guests? You call those Vanguard guests?" He raised the book. "Is this true?"

"You'll have to be more specific, Cion. What is that?"

"A book of potions and spells, like the Witches of Drakewood use. Particularly spells and potions of poisons. Untraceable poisons."

Kaylis shook her head. "You know I used to be with the Witches before I met your father. Does it really surprise you I still have my spell book?"