Caged by Her Dragons (The Inmate of the Dreki Dragons Book 1)

by Ginna Moran

  At least I won’t ever have to see him again, I hope. The judge will see that I’m innocent. Whoever these beings are and wherever I am can’t imprison me forever. I didn’t do anything wrong. I don’t belong here.

  “Guards, please show Ms. Noble to her seat.” A booming voice draws my attention from the door and to a man wearing all black, sitting on a high throne. He holds a scepter by his side, the top garnished with a shiny, multi-faceted onyx stone.

  Two massive shadows cut across the floor in front of me as the guards close the distance to me from behind. I don’t get a chance to turn to look before one of them grabs the back of my costume and tugs me to my feet.

  A hint of cinnamon wafts from behind me. I stiffen, half-expecting Maddox to suddenly reappear to man-handle me all over again. But it’s not him, though these two guards are just as bad.

  Kash pushes me toward a long table with a single chair. His knuckles dig into my spine, his strength completely unnecessary. I’d move regardless. I want to sit in front of the judge and plead my case to the best of my ability. Then maybe I can take whatever light portal or whatever the hell brought me here the hell home.

  Yanking the chair out for me, Rowan takes over for Kash and motions for me to sit. He locks my restraints in place on a ring welded to the center of the table. My arms ache from the strange position. The table restraint seems to have been made for a much larger person, and I have to sit on the edge of my seat as to not overstretch my body.

  A loud knock startles me, and I whip my head to the man sitting on the ornate golden throne. When our eyes meet, he flashes two long fangs, like those of a snake, and points his scepter at me. I flinch and duck, expecting a ball of electricity or fire to spew from it.

  “Nova Noble, trickster of the Mortal World, you have been accused of treachery, intent on seizing territory, and the murder of sixteen men and women, including one of our most powerful gatekeepers.” The judge shifts in his seat and points to a group of the strangest people I’ve ever seen. They look humanoid, but like the judge, something is slightly off. From glowing eyes to fangs, weirdly textured skin to wings. Even a snarling wolf-like man-thing sits on the end of the bench. “Jury, what is your verdict?”

  Wait, what? Their verdict? I haven’t even gotten to plead my case. Bouncing in my seat, I struggle to speak, to beg the judge to hear me out, but I can’t rip the sticky fabric off. I can’t do anything but mumble and whine. The woman in the interrogation room wasn’t kidding about this bullshit happening without me. And now I can’t even prove my innocence. This can’t be happening. It can’t.

  “With undeniable evidence brought forth by the two sole-surviving mortal witnesses of what I consider the vilest, most wicked massacre I have ever seen in my three-hundred and two years of existence, we, the jury, find Nova Noble permanently guilty under Magaelorum Law.”

  I scream, trying to make more noise. The fabric grows wider, creeping toward my nose. I panic and thrash against my restraints. I will not stand here and accept this bullshit. I won’t go down without a fight. I don’t belong here.

  The edges of my vision shadow, my rage burning through me hotter than the magical restraints biting into my wrists. The air turns heavy around me, slowing the world. I gasp, struggling to breathe as the fabric blocks one of my nostrils.

  I black out.

  At least I think I do.

  One second I’m thrashing in the seat, bound in place, and in the next Kash and Rowan restrain me. I catch sight of the chains on the floor, black and burning and no longer glowing with the strange magic. Voices yell through the air, and the judge stands in front of his throne.

  “Seize her! Bind her ability before she shifts!” the judge yells, motioning to someone I can’t see.

  I thrash and kick, using the two hulking guards as my support to swing my body up into the air. Landing on my feet, I hold my hands up. The woman from the cell—High Councilwoman Laveau—hesitates, a glowing metal brick in her hand.

  A heavy body tackles me, skidding with me across the floor. I yell, my voice muffled under the fabric, but it’s no use. Maddox grabs my wrists and pins me beneath him. He straddles my body, clenching my hips between his thighs.

  I sink under him, giving up on my fight. It’s pointless. I can’t escape.

  “Nova Noble, under Magaelorum Law, I hereby sentence you to life without retrial in the Maximum Magical Penitentiary,” the judge bellows, whacking his scepter to the floor.

  My eyes widen with his words. No. No! If only I could speak. If only—fuck. If only nothing. No one would believe me anyway.

  The judge waves his staff. “High Councilwoman Laveau, please proceed.”

  I can’t move or fight or do anything as Maddox flips me over to pin me on my stomach. Hot fingers lace around my wrists, bending my arms in a position that zings pain through my muscles.

  High Councilwoman Laveau whispers a few words under her breath a second before scorching pain blazes over the backs of my hands. It lasts only a second, but I feel the agony all the way to my soul. A part of me dies inside, a wave of hopelessness consuming me.

  “Inmate D64901 is ready for transfer,” High Councilwoman Laveau says. “Please notify the victims’ heirs that justice is now served.”

  Chapter 5

  Convicted

  “I KNOW YOU don’t believe me, but this is a mistake. I don’t belong here,” I say, glancing at the tops of my hands for the billionth time. My identification number glows in what I can only describe as a magical brand, three digits on each hand. It only hurt for a second, but it’s ugly as hell.

  “Strip and face the wall,” Rowan says, ignoring me. It’s just my fucking luck that the guys who found me at Rhett’s bar also happen to work in this prison. What’s worse is that Rhett was their friend.

  “Please, you have to let me explain,” I beg. I wring my fingers through the front of my torn and dirty costume, half the sequins missing. It doesn’t help that the last thing I want to do is to lose the last thing I have that connects me to the Mortal World. Ugh. I hate calling my home by another name.

  He flares his nostrils and glowers. “I said strip!”

  “You first!” I snap, refusing to let him intimidate me. I’m not a criminal and will not be treated like one despite what these assholes say.

  My words catch him off guard, and Rowan widens his eyes for a split second, something indecipherable crossing his handsome features. Unlike Maddox, he’s free of facial scars, but I spot a weird, swirly brand that weaves from his wrist to his elbow on the inside of his arm. It flashes orangey-red with his flexing muscles like fire burns through his veins.

  He tightens his jaw and trails his gaze lower, mapping out my body in a slow, sizzling sweep. “Inmate D64901, if you do not comply, I will remove your clothes for you.”

  Shit. My body totally loves the idea.

  He obviously does too.

  I swallow, catching a flicker of desire in his hazel eyes. And damn. Why does this douche have to be so hot? Why do I suddenly want to test his threat to see if he’ll actually do it? If I wasn’t so nervous over being wrong about his look, I would. Instead, I straighten my shoulders and stretch my arms behind me to unfasten the clasp on the back of my neck, holding my sequined top securely in place.

  The fabric loosens at the same time I tug the bow on my halter top to untie it. “You know, the last time someone demanded I take my clothes off was proceeded by a good time.” I flick my gaze from the floor and to him to see his reaction.

  He doesn’t give one apart from clenching and unclenching his fingers.

  “Do you know what a good time is?” I continue, his silence drawing out my nerves. “Probably not. Assholes like you turn women off with one word. Mood killers.”

  Again, he doesn’t respond. He doesn’t avert his eyes either. I’m not naïve toward his lustful curiosity. I bet this perv is just like the monsters in the bar. He thinks he can just intimidate someone into compliance. But he’s in for it with me, because I’m pi
ssed the hell off.

  Summoning my anger is the only thing stopping me from breaking down. From believing that this is it and this is how my life is going to be. I won’t let him break me, and I’ll never give him that kind of power. If he wants to watch me strip out of my clothes, then he can be my fucking guest. He’ll regret messing with me, because I know how to play games too. And I know his type. He wouldn’t be here in this position if he didn’t crave to hold power over people. It’s not that he’s serving justice. It’s about stroking his damn ego.

  “Enough, inmate. You’re wasting time,” Rowan finally says.

  Raising my chin, I offer him a smug smirk before darting my eyes down his tight-fitting uniform and straight toward his groin. My stare makes him shift on his feet and adjust his belt. I bring my gaze back up and ease my top down, steeling myself for what might be the last performance of my life. Too bad I’m wasting it, but if I’m stuck here against my will, I won’t be the only one suffering. I’ll use what I have to make life torture.

  Goosebumps prickle across my skin, my body reacting to the cool air and the intensity of Rowan’s gaze. Shifting on his feet again, he blatantly drinks me in, the firelight back in his eyes. His chest rises and falls with his breathing, and he winds his gaze down my stomach, following the glittering fabric of my costume as I take it off.

  “Everything must go,” he says, his deep voice humming through the air.

  Fuck. Me. “Would you like me to bend over while I’m at it?” I quip. “I don’t know how the hell this prison works, but I’ve seen enough TV.”

  He opens his mouth to respond, but the door to the concrete chamber flings open. I automatically cover my bare breasts and turn to face the wall. Maddox storms into the room and thrusts a one-piece, black jumpsuit at me with my ID number sewn over the breast.

  “Get dressed, inmate!” Maddox yells. “Next time I catch you trying to manipulate a CO, I’ll throw you into the damn pit.”

  The pit? What the hell is that?

  I don’t get the chance to ask. Maddox shoves Rowan toward the door and follows him out, leaving me alone. The metal door slams and the lights flick off. Utter darkness consumes me. Only a sliver of light seeps in through where the window cover slides open a few centimeters from the force of Maddox’s anger.

  “What the hell are you thinking, brother?” Maddox’s sharp voice hums through the closed door. I don’t think he intends for me to hear him, but I’m thankful that I can. “I told you to tell her to change and then leave her. Not fucking stay and give her an ounce of power over you. That’s probably how she got so close to Rhett. Whoever sent her knows Rhett had a damn soft spot for the unclaimed. Her acting is solid, and I will not allow her to make you a fool.”

  The unclaimed? What does that even mean?

  “Lighten up, Maddox. I knew what she was doing. If she wants to play these games, I’m going to enjoy every last one of them,” Rowan says, his voice light, almost amused. “You can’t deny she’s hot. Feisty when pushed. You wouldn’t call her cookie if you didn’t love the idea of her crumbling beneath you to enjoy her every sexy morsel. Those perky tits of hers—”

  Maddox growls and something slams against the door, startling me. “Just fucking stay away from her. We need to follow the damn plan. For Rhett.”

  Rowan sighs. “For Rhett.”

  The metal door flings open once more, and I stumble back, searching the ground for the discarded jumpsuit. Maddox glowers at me. If he could blow me up with his gaze, he would. He’s obviously not the one I can test. Not like Rowan. I can’t stop from stretching up to try to look behind him to see if he lingers, but he’s gone. Damn.

  “You have five seconds. Get dressed or this is how I’m taking you to the pit,” Maddox says, straightening his back to fill more of the room. “I’m sure the inmates would love a little show of your sweet meat.”

  Ew. This guy.

  I rush to get into the jumpsuit, no longer willing to test my luck. It was one thing to tease a guard in private. It’s a whole other hell to give a show while being paraded to whatever the pit is. Sliding on the sleeves, I adjust the bodysuit in place and cross my arms. Maddox turns his gaze from the ceiling to me and waves his arm.

  “You will fulfill your sentence in Cellblock S. Until we can assess what work you’re capable of doing that doesn’t include taking off your clothes, you will report to the corrections officer on duty at the Work Center in your block.” Maddox knocks his knuckles between my shoulder blades, herding me along a corridor that ends in a barred door.

  It automatically opens for us. I tense at the noisy, grand concrete room. I can’t stop my jaw from slackening in shock. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this. I mean, come on. People aren’t supposed to have wings. A mixture of men and women, all with wings sticking from their backless jumpsuits, eat something strange from bowls at metal tables. Maddox shoves me to get me to move my legs, and I sweep my gaze across the room.

  At least a hundred pairs of eyes all turn in my direction. If Maddox wasn’t herding me, I’d probably cower behind his massive muscular body, which is more solid than a block wall. Even with his snarling and yells and shitty asshole attitude, he doesn’t exactly scare me. It’s hard to fear someone your vagina appreciates and wants nothing more than to take for a ride.

  A man jumps from his seat and bares his sharp teeth at me. He gnashes his jaws, his face distorting into a series of hard lines that make him even more terrifying. Maddox yanks what looks like an iron baton from his belt and whacks the man on his shoulder. His skin smokes, and he scrambles back but continues to look on the verge of trying to devour me. I expect him to take flight as Maddox swings the baton again. He tries, bending his legs, but all he does is hop back. It’s now that I notice a series of rings clipping his wings together, preventing him from flying.

  Maddox ushers me through the room, the sudden silence digging into me. It feels as if the whole cellblock might be plotting for my demise. At least I can thank the universe that I won’t sprout magical wings that would ensure my stay in this section.

  “Look too long and you’ll lose your eyes,” a child-like girl says with a hiss. She stands on the bench of one of the tables and expands her arms. Jumping from the table, she lands on her feet a few feet away. “Hear what you shouldn’t and lose an ear. Touch what doesn’t belong to you and lose your hand. Heed my warning, beast. It’s the only one you’ll ever get.”

  Maddox waves his baton again, sending the winged girl back. He doesn’t say anything and ushers me the rest of the way through the room. The next barred door opens for us and immediately closes to lock in place. A few of the inmates slap their hands to the bars, trying to get me to look back. I don’t. I decide it’s best to stare at the floor and not to give the world around me even an ounce of attention.

  “Fucking fae,” Maddox mutters under his breath, sliding his baton back into his belt.

  A guard steps from a doorway and greets Maddox with a stern nod. My damn eyes disobey my request to remain locked to the floor, and I glance up and catch sight of the prettiest man I’ve ever seen. Despite his glare, his delicate features make him anything but a hard ass. And he also has wings—brilliant metallic wings that look to have been brushed in gold. Unlike the inmates, his aren’t clipped together.

  “Get your fucking block under control, CO,” Maddox snaps at the man. He whacks him on the back. “You’re too damn lenient.”

  The man untucks his gloved hand from his pocket and grabs his iron baton from his belt. Without a word, he disappears into the fae people’s cellblock. Fae. I repeat the word over and over again in my mind. I used to pretend fairies were real as a kid—but these winged-creatures are far from the beautiful, tiny flying princesses I imagined. Some of them were taller than me. And buff. Sexy.

  Maddox forces me to lead the way, even though I have no clue where I’m going. I drag my bare feet, wishing I’d gotten some shoes. Each step down the concrete corridor feels colder than the last
. I descend down a set of stairs to the next barred gate. It opens with Maddox’s presence, and I shuffle into the next cellblock.

  Holy. Shit.

  No one has to tell me what type of creatures remains imprisoned in this section. A dozen silver-flashing eyes zone in on me as I follow the painted, glowing pathway through the dimly lit, windowless room. And damn. I break the looking-rule the fae girl warned me about and devour the closest hot-as-hell guys with my eyes. Even in their inmate jumpsuits, I can see the definition of their bulky, delicious muscles. One of the guys—a dark-haired man with piercing black eyes—raises a bag of dark liquid and winks at me.

  He smiles, revealing his fangs and...what the hell? They’ve been capped. A vampire with capped fangs? I can’t stop the surprise laugh from escaping my lips. I know I shouldn’t, especially with how quickly his smile vanishes, but damn it. This place gets to me. And now I’m pretty sure the guy will try to get to me for laughing at him.

  I puff out my bottom lip and mouth, “Sorry. You’re still hot.”

  Maddox must notice the small exchange that softens the vampire’s features, because he shoves me in the back hard enough to make me stumble.

  “Damn it, Maddox. Chill out!” Ohmyhellno. I did not just scream at him, using a name I wasn’t given permission to use.

  A few of the vampires inhale sharp breaths, and another guy laughs. I tense and squeeze my eyes shut, willing myself to disappear. Where is the brilliant portal light when I need it? Because if the sudden heat warming my skin wasn’t bad enough, the nearly overwhelming cinnamon breath of Maddox sends my heart sinking into my stomach.

  I prepare for a monster’s wrath, for unbearable pain, for my end to come. What I don’t prepare for is the whack of a baton to my ass. I startle at the sting that weakens my knees for a second but manage not to fall over.

  “Gotta do it harder than that, CO. I think she liked it,” an inmate says.