CHAPTER SEVENTY FOUR
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Daela jerks awake from the dreadful dream.
Her chest rises and falls in sharp gasps, cold sweat beading on her forehead. The nightmare felt so real - visions of the dragon king descending upon Faelyn with fury in his golden eyes, his flames turning the small village to ash. She can still hear the screams echoing in her mind, still smell the smoke and blood.
Thankfully, it has only been a dream.
The morning starts slowly, and Daela grudgingly watches the dragon move about the cottage with predatory grace.
Some minutes later, Daela is served a meal consisting of dried fruits, smoked meat and vegetables arranged on carved wooden plates. She meets Drakar's watchful gaze and instantly looks away, her skin prickling under his intense stare.
Daela has no appetite, but she also has no wish to upset her captor. She doesn't want a repeat of what happened last night.
