To Bind a Dragon - Dragon Affairs, Book 1

02. Dragon of Stone

 — Oli —

But for real, Oli, be careful with The Hellraiser. They're a Demon among dragons and still blame us for the Hunt. Whatever you do, make sure you'll stay away from them.

Those had been Celeste's exact words. And maybe, just maybe Oli would have listened to them—if only anyone in the Council had warned her that The Hellraiser herself would drive her to her den.

Still.

Hel's shoulders tensed and relaxed as she walked through the mansion, almost as if she had to force herself to calm down. There was a limp in her walk that she could almost completely hide and a trail of blood coming from under her long hair. Hel had wide shoulders and sharp claws—as Oli had the displeasure of discovering—but not as wide or as sharp as she'd expected. Not for someone with a moniker like hers.

The stories Oli remembered about the Fourth Wild Hunt said Hel alone had held back an entire legion of mermaid hunters while her squad ran away with their dragonlings. She had managed to fight her way through hordes of magic-eating hounds, hunters, and the abominations they controlled, and when she arrived back home, the first thing she did was to break a cask of Fire Ale and start a party that lasted three days and nights.

Oli didn't know what she expected, but it wasn't this weird mix of gym clothes, combat boots, and lesbian-approved flannels.

She took a deep breath and let her eyes roam along the corridor they had just turned into. The red runner rugs, family photos, and the white porcelain goose on a corner table reminded her of home, except deader. It was late at night on a Friday, and despite the loud music in the distance, the silence in this place was as thick as tar. This didn't seem like the kind of tormented and dangerous place Mother had described, though. So far, Oli hadn't seen any sign that anyone in the Council was right.

"Get going," Hel snarled. She held Oli's arm and tugged her to her side. "And don't even try to escape. All you'll manage to do is to make me angrier."

There was only this one thing. The mansion was freezing, a stark contrast with Hel's warm palm on her arm.

Sure, Oli' socks were wet and made a funny sound against the soles of her boots as she walked, but the chill in this place felt almost unnatural. Maybe that was the sign she'd been looking for. That coldness was magical, dangerous, alien to a sourcerer like her. It surely represented these lizards' hearts and her body's temperature once she was a half-chewed corpse on the floor!

Then she saw the AC unit on the wall. Huh.

Oli cleared her throat. "Why would I even try to escape? I asked to come here." She tugged her arm free and hoisted the strap of her duffel bag up on her shoulder. "Although not like this. Your Matriarch's letter mentioned a welcome soirée." The bag was too heavy, so it slipped.

Hel caught it before it hit the floor. "Not anymore. C'mon."

She opened the heavy iron door with a hard slap. It swung back with a groan of metal.

"Hipátia!" Hel shouted—a thunderclap in an eerie evening.

Oli followed her into a spacious, octagonal greenhouse attached to the mansion. As she did, a dozen of faces turned to her.

Sinuous CLT wood framed the large glass panels around the room, casting living shadows on the burnt cement floor. Unlike Mother's messy rose garden, the plants here were almost too organized; they were separated into pockets of color by the shades of their flowers and leaves. Every plant had hanging tags and small metallic rings around its stems while the many gardening tools were painfully clean. This room made its plants feel more like subjects in a lab than a part of nature.