Chapter Six

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It's really happening. My absolute, worst nightmare.

Naomi studied the damp, cement walls of her cell. Prison looked exactly like she'd imagined. Dreary, cramped, horrifying. The gray room closed in around her with the suffocating smell of mildew and dank dirt.

When she was younger and first learning what it meant to be a dragon shifter, Naomi had had this same recurring nightmare of being found out and executed. Her mother soothed her when she woke up screaming. She could still see her mother's face: heart-shaped, mahogany, and with such kind eyes—loving eyes that lulled Naomi back to safety. That made her think things would be okay.

How wrong she'd been.

What if they killed her? Her good deed would end with her demise.

She'd been down here for hours—at least that's how it felt. Every passing minute brought increasing dread and disconcerting thoughts. Images of her death flashed through her mind, haunting her. Right when she feared she'd lost her sanity, a sharp rattling on her cage bars startled her.

A sturdy man with bronze skin and a wolfish smile stood in front of her cell. He gazed at her with the mild amusement and curiosity one would have while looking at a new pet.

"Hey, dragon girl. How you holding up?"

"Um, not well, sir. Do you know when...if...they'll release me?"

The guard guffawed.

"My, you're optimistic. They did tell me to come get you, but I doubt it's to set you free, jailbird." The man cocked his head with a sense of urgency as he unlocked her cell door. "Come on. The king wants to see you."

Hesitantly, Naomi got up but paused at the door. She remained in chains so there was no way she could make a run for it and get far. But maybe...

Sensing her calculating thoughts, the guard placed a hand on his saber. If the weapon was anything like the ones in her dad's shop, the threat wasn't an idle one. Her father and Orin often embedded charms to enhance the swiftness of the blades or to add shockwaves every time they made contact with an opponent. The guard took his menace one step further by shifting his hand into a griffon claw. Flashing his vicious nails at her was only the tip of the iceberg. If the guard transformed into his full griffon form, half eagle and half lion, his strength and ferocity would be vastly superior to her shackled state.

The guard followed up on his threat: "Don't even think about it. Just shuffle on out and follow me."

Naomi did as she was told, trekking behind him. They traveled up from the dungeon to several floors until they reached a grand, wooden door. Her ward knocked and a voice encouraged them to enter.

The guard pushed the door open, and Naomi stepped inside. King Drewell stood at the window, his back to them. From his stately stature, Naomi knew right away this was a man unafraid to make harsh decisions. And at the moment, he held her fate in his hands. It wasn't a comforting thought.

When he turned to her, Naomi froze. What was she supposed to say? Should she bow? Oh yes, she was probably supposed to bow.

Naomi started to drop into a curtsy, realized she was doing it completely wrong, and then settled for an awkward, standard bow instead. Her bound hands hadn't helped her in her poor attempt. From behind her, she heard the guard snicker.

"Your m-majesty..." Naomi mumbled, her head bowed. Eyes on the floor, she heard the king walk toward her. His thick boots clomped against the tiles as if even they issued commands. She saw the tips of the king's shiny, immaculate black shoes as he stopped to stand in front of her.

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