Astra's POV
My breath left me, and I straightened on the seat, gripping the armrests so tight until my palms felt like they would bleed.
The guards pushed Nathan in like he was no better than a sack of grains.
His wrists were bound. His lip was split. Dirt streaked his small face. His wide and terrified eyes searched the room for me until they fell on me.
"Astra?" he whispered.
I turned sharply to the Elders. My throat was clogged with so many lumps I had to force them down with hard swallows. "Let my brother go. He has nothing to do with this. He didn't do anything." I pleaded, looking eagerly from one to another.
But the dark, scheming glints I saw in the pairs of eyes around reminded me starkly I was appealing to stone.
Nothing I say would make a difference. Nothing.
The bastards were really serious about this. They must really want my blood to have brought Nathan here to threaten me.
The elder with the white beard clasped his hands behind his back as though he were discussing something trivial and not threatening me with my brother's life. "You see, lowborn, we value cooperation," he said.
But I wasn't listening to him. My eyes were ahead, watching as the guard forced Nathan to his knees.
My nails dug into the soft cushion wrapped around the steel armrest as I fought my rage "Just let him go, Elders. Let my brother go," I yelled.
One of the elders smiled, a smile sharpening as the minutes spread. "We simply require a vial of blood from you." His eyes glinted. "Refuse… and accidents can happen."
He glanced back, nudged his jaw up, and the guard unsheathed his sword. The sharp sting of steel rang in the room, and the guard pressed the blade lightly against Nathan's throat.
I shut my eyes tight, trying to look away, but I snapped them open instantly. I couldn't look away, not when Nathan was on his knees because of me.
Not when he was whimpering, hands trembling, as he forced himself not to cry, trying to be brave for me.
I knew what the Elders were capable of. I knew they could carry out their threats. I wasn't so concerned about my blood. I'll gladly give all up for Nathan, but the problem was I had no idea what they would do with the blood.
I knew how magic in Nirvada works, especially dark magic, to know, a lot of things could go wrong if my blood falls into the wrong hands.
"You wouldn't hurt my brother," I said, forcing my voice steady. I lacked much conviction to make my threat effective. "You won't because you know I am Drayven's guide. If you touch me or my brother, he'll have to act."
I didn't fancy using Drayven's name to get something, but right now, I didn't have a choice.
The Elder with the white beard laughed, still playing with the monstrosity of a beard that filed his jaw, a dark bitter laugh that burned up my blood with rage.
"You seem to think because you are his guide, you can control him to your whim. If it were exactly so, you think he wouldn't have been domesticated for centuries? You have no idea what you are dealing with."
Another elder moved closer to me until his face was just a few inches from mine. He tilted his head to the side. "You misunderstand your position. You are a magicless lowborn who awakened the Destroyer of Worlds. Once the dragon is resealed, you will be unimportant, no better than a bag of bones. As a guide, you aren't exactly useful, but if you are his mate, you can."
I knew nothing about dragons. Only old mages had an idea how to deal with a dragon. So I couldn't tell if they were genuine, but I felt if they were this interested in my blood to check for my matehood to Drayven, then there must be some truth in their words.
I stared around at their faces, the greed glowing behind their eyes. They were planning something, and I couldn't help but think that my blood was just a key to it.
I made sure my gaze encompassed the six of them, and I asked. "When you say useful, do you mean to him, or to myself, or to you all?"
Some of them laughed, amusement lighting their faces as if I had just told the world's funniest joke.
The elder with the white beard leaned closer, fixing me with a hard, unflinching stare penetrating me like a blade.
"You don't need to know some details. Just do what we say. Choose wisely," he continued smoothly. "Your blood… or his." He glanced back to reference Nathan.
Nathan forced a smile with clenched teeth, still keeping up the fake bravery act. I couldn't let them harm Nathan, especially not over just a vial of my blood.
I shut my eyes tight until the room blurred into darkness. And I assured myself that I wouldn't regret whatever they would do with my blood. "Fine," I whispered. "Take my blood."
The elder with the syringe stepped forward, grinning.
And just when he was about to jam the syringe against my neck, the doors to the hall burst open.
A pressure flooded the room, and the elders all went rigid instantly. They parted quickly for their respective seats, except the one with the white beard, who hung around my seat.
Drayven stood at the entrance for a moment, his gaze ransacking the room, jumping from one elder to another and then to me.
A naked, yet invisible, tension gripped the room, so tangible I could feel it zing over my skin.
His deepening brows and the tightness in his jaw were hints that he suspected something, but he said nothing.
While the elders remained like statues around me, ghosts of their earlier scheming selves.
The blade had vanished from Nathan's throat as the guard stepped back, like everyone in the room, trying to avoid Dryven's interrogating stare.
I waved Nathan to come. He hesitated for a moment, looking up with quivering eyes at the guards who had dropped back from him.
I waved him again, assuring him with my best smile, and quickly, he broke free from where he knelt and ran toward me.
In a blink, Drayven teleported to me, his hand shot out, and he caught Nathan by the throat mid-run, lifting him off the ground effortlessly.
A terrified scream tore of my throat. "Drayven, no!" But he was already strangling Nathan.