Claimed By The Pure-Blood Dragon Tyrant

a P

eavy hammer slamming straight into my

weeds toward the firewood shed, and kicked the ro

by her wrists to a wooden post, her plain linen dress shredde

the air was Agatha, the cruelest head servant in Lady Malo

to

ght hand out to catch the whistling barbed whip

d spilled between my fingers, yet I barely felt th

she saw my face under the single wall torch, h

ading your legs for those mercenaries at the Scarlet Flower Pa

courting

d yanked it forward with all my weight. Agatha's hea

le chin. With a sickening crack of bone, she screamed and flew

saw the blood dripping from my hand. "Run, Miss... Second Miss Camille sent word back ahead o

to death at the brothel, her people were alre

r bleeding jaw and scrambled to her feet,

here! Grab this shameless whore! Lady Malone or

wooden clubs burst in from the back al

n my hand, and prepared to tear them apart when a suffocating,

s? That sounds like

the moonlight behind him casting a long,

e puddles of dirty water on the ground

ha and the four washerwomen flat onto their stomachs,

neck, and the moment she recognized the infamous tyr

on my bleeding palm, the fury in his red-gold dragon ey

angerously soft. "Smash that

our Hig

word in its iron scabbard, and brought the solid m

ight sky, loud enough to wake every

st, used my clean left hand to untie the coarse ropes cutting int

whispered hoarsely, holding her tremb

oak around both me and Erykah, his large hand resting gently

e, no one touches a hair on your heads," he m

ng through my chest. For a ruthless war god, the security he g

a blaze of bright torches lit up t

tyards in the middle of the night?" a sharp, a

aightened up, staring coldly at the group of

wept into the dilapidated yard wearing a dark-red silk nightgown embroid

a man with an iron-grim expres