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Summary
A twist of magic, and the metal of the throne and Aron’s chains bends to Reyk's will, twisting and melting until Aron’s knees are spread wide over the arms, his wrists tugged up over his head until he has to arch his back. The thin white cloth of his robes strains around his thighs.
“I’ll kill you!” Aron snarls, his voice echoing off the empty space that had once been his to rule. “The gods and my father, they’ll have your-”
His voice dies out as Svartr emerges from the outer courtyard, a great beast of shadow and scale, his silver-blue eyes burning.
“I smell him,” Svartr says, and the ground beneath Reyk’s feet shakes with his approach. “Reyk. Let me have him.”
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The dragons of the seamount need a new breeding slave. Reyk is thrilled with the one they've found.