House of Dragons (Royal Houses #1) - K.A. Linde Page 0,6

to herself.

Her eyes were glassy, and what she’d seen raced across her mind over and over again.

The first vision had been so clear, and the second had at least made sense. But this? What even was this? And why did it make her want to throw up all over the cobblestones?

Her vision dipped again. Her ears were ringing. She felt like she was going to die here.

A familiar voice sounded through the cacophony in her head, “Here you are.”

“Dozan?”

Dozan leaned over her. “Red, how many fingers am I holding up?”

“Six?” she muttered. “Wait…”

He said nothing more, just easily lifted her into his arms. She rested her head against his chest, ignoring all the reasons this was a bad, bad choice. But her vision was black at the edges. She had mere minutes.

“You shouldn’t walk alone on the streets in the Dregs after humiliating Basem Nix.”

Her eyes wrenched back open, fighting the spiral. “That was Basem Nix?” she croaked in despair. No wonder he’d been wearing that jacket.

Basem had started as a Dregs underling, who had reaped the benefits of new trade from the south to haul himself out of the slums. Now, he was a formidable merchant with terrifying, powerful friends. He was not someone she had ever wanted to meet… let alone get on the bad side.

“Why would I be fighting Basem?”

“It was a test, Red. You passed.”

She groaned, certain her head was going to split in two. Dozan was silent as he carried her through the back halls of the Wastes and deposited her into Clover’s empty pallet.

Kerrigan was unconscious before her head hit the pillow. Otherwise, she would have reminded someone to wake her for the tournament tomorrow.

3

The Tournament

Someone was shaking her awake.

Kerrigan groaned. “Just one more minute.”

“Kerrigan, are you out of your mind?”

Her eyes flew open to find a tall boy with short blue hair staring down at her. “Hadrian?”

“Yes, it’s me, you dolt. What are you still doing in the Wastes?” he demanded. “You were supposed to be at the arena hours ago.”

She jolted out of bed, her heart racing like she’d just performed a tight roll on a dragon’s back. She rubbed her hands over her eyes as she realized where she was. She was in Clover’s room. Her room in the Wastes. Oh gods!

“The tournament!” she gasped.

“Yes! You didn’t come home last night. We’re were all worried. I drew the short straw to come here and collect you.”

“Can you keep it down?” Clover grumbled from the pallet next to Kerrigan.

“Clover, get up! It’s the day of the tournament.”

“Scales,” Clover gasped, rolling over with wide eyes. “Are we late?”

“Late?” Hadrian asked with a stilted laugh. “We’ll be lucky if we make the trek back to the mountain before it starts. Now, get up. Let’s go.”

With this new information, both girls moved at lightning speed, throwing on fresh clothes, and scrambling out of the room.

Gods, how had this happened? She wasn’t particularly punctual, but she had never wanted to miss something this important. Then the night before came back to her—the fight, the winnings, Basem Nix.

She winced. She’d fought Basem Nix. Scales. That wasn’t good. She had never seen Basem in person before, but she sure as hell knew his name. And the echo of it still rang in her ears. He was full-blooded Fae, had money, and enough connections to make her shiver. She hoped that she never came across him again.

“This way,” Clover said, grasping Hadrian’s collar and throwing him toward another set of stairs.

Kerrigan followed at a close clip. They burst out a side door that led into the Dregs, all a little breathless from the climb.

“You are going to be in so much trouble,” Hadrian said as they started forward through the crowded streets.

“I know. Don’t remind me,” Kerrigan grumbled.

“You’ve always been reckless, but this is next level,” he said.

“Hey, leave her alone, pretty boy,” Clover cut in.

He shot a seething glare at Clover. “Did you really have to come in that?”

She glanced down at the Wastes uniform she’d donned without thought and then shrugged with a smirk. “You don’t like it.”

“Leave it,” she snapped at Hadrian. “I’m tired enough without hearing you two always at each other’s throats.”

Kinkadia was arranged into six main quadrants on the city. The largest section the Dregs lay to the north and west. Central, which was full to the brim with markets, merchants, inns, and taverns, especially with all the tourists in town for the tournament. Row to the east was the nicest, most affluent