Cruel

Ash 1917

"I am a hundred," I say aloud as I get my clothes on. "I am an adult by the royal's standard. Therefore, I am free to make my own choices."

I'd been saying that for the past two hours. I'd been preparing myself for the inevitable argument.

It wouldn't go well, and I knew that going in.

Neither of them would like this, and I was sure I'd get the lecture from both ends. For different reasons, but there was no getting around this. I was going through with my plan, with or without their blessing.

I was leaving tomorrow, and it would be a long time before I returned to Alaska. I was considering a few decades.

My parents couldn't expect me to stay here forever, but I knew they both did. My mother wanted me to wait another ten years before I lived alone. 

To stay inside the territory and accept my father's offer for a little while.

'Let me pretend you're still a hatchling for a little longer.' So she'd say, and that tactic had worked for a while.

Then there was my father. Now that I'd completed my three years of royal duty, he was pushing for me to take the position he'd bargained for with the king fifty years ago.

I'd met my future mate a dozen times in thirty years, and I was confident we would never get along. If she were a self-centered snob, I would've been alright with that, or even if she'd been a shy, quiet creature who hadn't found her voice yet.

Zayla wasn't either. She wasn't anything. I don't know what her family did, but they sucked the personality out of her. 

When we first met, I thought it was her nerves causing her to act like that, but after a few more times of seeing her. I realized it was the way she was.

Maybe there was a hidden dragoness underneath the cold blandness that didn't trust me, but it was buried deep inside her, and I don't think I was the one who could unlock it.

I was possibly being unfair, but if we were going to spend the rest of our lives together, I wanted someone I could find common ground with. Zayla gave me nothing. I asked her what she enjoyed, and her answers felt rehearsed.

Everything Zayla did was practiced, calculated, and done so many times it looked flawless. I don't think that was something she did naturally. I could have accepted that a lot more than what was going on.

The first night she stayed with us, Zayla entered my bedroom after everyone had gone to bed. I'd taken it as a sign that she reserved her true self for when things were private, and I could accept that. Especially  when she climbed into my bed naked.

I don't want to be misunderstood. Zayla is beautiful. A stunning dragoness with a body that could make a grown man cry and a delicate nymph-like face, but that was as far as it went.

Since the first girl I went to bed with, I've made it a point to make sure my bed partners leave my side satisfied. It's a matter of principle and pride. It doesn't matter whether it's a woman or a man. I want the experience to be something they don't forget.

Zayla got on her back, opened her legs, and closed her eyes with the statement, here, do what you want with me.

I'd given her the benefit of the doubt, thinking she was a virgin and was uncomfortable with the concept of sex. I was wrong again. She was not, and when I asked her, she shrugged and said she always did things that way.

That did nothing for me, and I still haven't bedded her. There was the argument that I could show her how to enjoy the act, primarily since we were meant to be mates, arranged or not. Still, Zayla lacked any interest in trying anything. she just wanted it to be done so she could sleep.

Things hadn't improved in that time, she still lacked much of a personality, and the most we'd done was sleep in the same bed.

I didn't blame Zayla for the way she was. I blamed her family and asking her to be with me the way I was unfair.

Zayla saw me as a duty she had to fulfill. Not as a lover, mate, or even a friend.

It made me think my father had arranged me to a blank canvas. I think the idea was to have me give her the personality I wanted in my mate and have her adjust herself to what I wanted. 

That didn't sit well with me. Not only because it was morally wrong, but because I didn't know what I wanted from the person who'd be with me forever.

So, no, I had no intentions of mating with Zayla.

I knew my mother would back me with that idea. She'd said as much when we'd met Zayla, but I knew I was still in for a fight when I told them my plans.

Landing at my father's cave entrance, I quickly shift and change into the clothes I bought. 

"Lord Ashari," My father's servant, Cassia, bows her head when she sees me. 

"You don't have to do that with me," I remind her. Cassia was young and had only worked for my father for the last five years. Only twenty-five and she still got overwhelmed by the position. "Is my father here?"

"He is, but he's with your mother," she explains, and I frown. Why was my mother here? She rarely came here, preferring to meet him in the fortress.

"That's fine. I have to speak to both of them," With a sigh, I start walking to my father's study.

"He's not there," Cassia calls out, running after me. 

Pausing, I turn to face her. Cassia was glancing around to make sure no one was listening.

"Where are they?" I whisper, knowing she wasn't supposed to tell me.

"Your father's chambers," Cassia leans into my ear. "Having a terrible argument."

"About what?" I start walking in the direction of those caves.

"You," She hurries to keep up. "Gemma said no one is allowed over there."

"Are they cleaning the tunnels today?" I ask her quickly.

"No," Cassia shakes her head. "So you can sneak in without being seen."

"Will you keep an eye out for me?" I ask carefully. I knew I shouldn't, but Cassia had been my friend longer than she'd worked for Nerva.

Nodding without a word, we ran to the long tunnels that connected the caverns to each other. Although most were formed naturally. To make it easier for the servants to get around in their human forms, smaller paths had been made like a spider's web that existed behind the main walls of the caves. 

I hear the sounds of yelling before I reach the end of the path, but it isn't my mother or father.

Is that Halona?

"You cannot do this, Nerva," she cried out. 

"It is already done," My father snaps back. Cassia tapped my shoulder and pulled me to the other side of the tunnel, where we could see what was going on.

My father was standing by the table. His arms crossed, with a scowl on his face.

My mother paces silently back and forth in the cavern, and Halona is in my father's face, looking angrier than I'd ever seen her.

"You promised me you would never do this!" Halona screams. "How can you be so cruel?"

"I am protecting my son!" My father yells, then turning to my mother, he growls. "Daliah, control your mate!"

What did he say?

"