A Cage of Crimson (Deliciously Dark Fairytales #5) Read Online K.F. Breene

Categories Genre: Dark, Fantasy/Sci-fi, Magic, Paranormal Tags Authors: Series: Deliciously Dark Fairytales Series by K.F. Breene
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Total pages in book: 164
Estimated words: 152666 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 763(@200wpm)___ 611(@250wpm)___ 509(@300wpm)
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“Without royal pressure, all we need to worry about is getting past the port patrol,” Tanix said.

I took a deep breath. “That, and actually getting to the port. We have to join the main road leading to the port tomorrow. There won’t be any trees to hide in. Without royal backing, Alexander won’t be able to stage a fight in the city or near the port. Tomorrow, in the open, is where he’ll have to make his last stand.”

They wanted my true mate. Aurelia was a prize they would clearly sacrifice for. Kill for. Her worth couldn’t be measured by her humble lodgings and cheap attire. Granny had known the diamond she’d held, safeguarding it at the very edges of the kingdom, isolating it in the wilds. It wasn’t just Aurelia’s abilities, it was her intelligence and her ingenuity. Her hardworking nature and need to be of value. Those traits ranked higher than her power level, a prize for any shifter kingdom in its own right. Aurelia, simply by being herself, had blessed Granny with all the gold she could want.

Aurelia was a rare find and Granny had somehow known it upon their first meeting. That, or she’d taken a chance and gotten incredibly lucky.

My true mate was something special. Something rare. I could only hope the dragons would see it, too.

“So tonight was about Alexander preparing,” Tanix surmised.

“Yes. And tomorrow he’ll hit us again. Hard.”

Chapter 32

Aurelia

“No, Urien!” Hadriel shouted. “You pencil-dicked sonuva donkey,” he muttered. “Stop manhandling that horse. He doesn’t like—“ He stormed up the line. “I swear to the gods’ balls, I am going to thump that kid. What in the bloody cleavage is he even doing? Urien, that horse is going to—well, there you go. Don’t you dare cry to me, you deserved to get bit!”

I watched with what I knew was a lopsided smile as Hadriel went after Urien. I loved watching his antics.

Weston walked beside me in wolf form, sparing a brief glance for Hadriel before looking back at the trees. A lot of the other powerful members of the pack were also in wolf form. They were taking no chances in case Alexander ambushed us on the road.

A shiver of fear rolled through me and I did my best to put the thought out of my mind. There was nothing I feared more than falling into his hands.

Dante walked behind me in human form with a simple strip of fabric around his waist in case he had to shift quickly. As Hadriel bustled away, Dante stepped up beside me and I decided to bring up what had been on my mind since last night.

“Dante, I’ve been meaning to ask you . . .” I slipped my hands into my pockets as nervousness fluttered in my belly.

“Don’t put your hands in your pockets when you walk,” he said in response, scanning the trees to the left. “If you trip, you’ll fall on your face and chip a tooth or something.”

“Okay, mother.” My smile grew and I pulled my hands from my pockets.

“If you fell, you’d probably conjure a knife out of thin air and stab me when I bent to help you. I’m not saying it for you, I’m saying it for me. I’m tired of you attacking me.”

I grimaced, the nervousness amplifying. “Gotcha. Sorry about that.” I hesitated, feeling sheepish and vulnerable and more than a little embarrassed. But this was important to me. “Did you mean what you said, though?”

He groaned. “Listen, Aurelia, you have to understand, we’ve been eating cheese for days. There is only so much cheese a guy can eat without asserting that he’s never going to eat cheese again. Did I mean it? At the time, yes. Is it a testament to your cooking that I don’t want to eat the cheese you and the cook keep pushing on us? Again, yes. Am I serious? Not totally. I’m sure in a month I will forget all about this and once again eat chee—are you laughing with me or at me?”

“No, it’s just . . . I didn’t hear your comment about cheese. That one I get. I’m tired of it, too, and I love cheese.”

“Right? See, Sixten told me I was bitching just to bitch, but it’s a lot, right?”

“It is. No, I mean, last night after I’d . . . stuck you with the knife. Did you mean it?”

“Why? What did I call you? I don’t remember—I’d just been stabbed, after all.”

I bit my lip, hesitating. I felt oddly vulnerable and even more embarrassed now. I shook my head. “Never mind.”

“At the time, I probably did mean it, yes. But it’s like the cheese—I’ll eventually get over it.”

I laughed, shaking my head harder now. He was such a goofy guy. I loved it. “No, it’s not . . .” I looked away, and then just blurted it out. “You said you thought we were friends.”



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