Chapter Seven Snippet
The room was white and silent around him, the air almost thick with a lemony acidic smell that stung his nose and made it itch. He could feel that his wrists were restrained tightly and, unlike the first time he’d woken up like this, there was no cool metal he could get his hands to. Unlike before, whoever had knocked him out and restrained him this time knew exactly what he could do with the little bit of cold he could get his hands on.
Well, what he could have done if his dragon were responding.
Haven decided he disliked waking up in unfamiliar places.
Haven opened his eyes, turning his head to look away from the bright lights above him and the momentary blindness that made his head hurt. Once the white spots had cleared and his head had quieted down, he looked around the room as he systematically began pulling his wrists in different directions, testing the strength of the restraints.
He had never seen a room like this before. White covered the walls, ceiling and floor to the point that they all almost blended together into a single piece surrounding him. One wall looked to be made up of tv screens with securely locked small doors underneath. From where he lay, Haven could see a thick screen of glass covering the TVs, protecting them without distorting the images. The floor was tiled in white and a drain was just within his sight below where he was laying, the grated circle looking like an angry mouth in the floor. Haven tried to sit up, only to find the restraints were made of leather and metal on top of that, keeping him from touching the cold storing metal. They were strong and as he gave a final tug with all his strength he only succeeded in shaking the bed he was tied to, but not enough to make it worth trying again.
“Answer me,” he hissed lowly, focusing on the lack of voice in his mind. His arm felt abnormally warm and his dragon was completely silent. Haven turned his head and twisted his arm as much as he could. He could make out where the strange bullet had hit his arm and there was a black and blue sore melded in with the crystal white scales and his own skin beneath. The sore stung and Haven wanted to scratch it, but couldn’t reach it — he didn’t even come close. He let himself drop back into the scratchy sheets and tried to relax. He couldn’t hear his dragon and he had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to for a while.
All his life he’d always been able to head I-lyan’s voice, this was the first time he didn’t have him. Haven swallowed the fear that started to creep in from that thought and stared at the ceiling, forcing himself to concentrate on something else as he traced the ceiling tiles with his eyes.
The only door in the room slid open with a hiss, a tall man stepping in wearing a business suit and a stern face. Haven turned his head and caught the glimpse of someone else as the door shut, a young woman with long blonde hair, but the door was closed before he got more detail. He quietly watched as the man moved to lean against the wall, watching him back.
“How is your arm?” His voice was taunting, a smirk hinting at his lips.
Haven didn’t bother to answer, he was too busy focusing on the fact that one of the restraints felt looser than the other. Making a show of struggling in the bed, he used it to cover twisting his arm in the restraint, feeling it loosen more. Now, if he just squeezed his hand flat enough he might be able to pull his hand through.
“You are very interesting. I haven’t seen an ice dragon in many years. I had thought there weren’t any left.”
Haven stopped moving as the man walked closer, circling the bed to stand next to his arm with the dragon — the same one he’d been working to loosen. The man brushed his finger over Haven’s numb arm and he twisted away, not wanting the man anywhere near him. Haven bit his tongue and didn’t speak to the man, remembering many times when his dragon had warned him to stay quiet because powerful people could learn more from your words than you ever intended to tell them.
“Does he have a name? Is it I-lyan perhaps?”
Haven stopped, a cold feeling washing through his body and it wasn’t one he was used to. This wasn’t the familiar cold from his dragon, this was the cold of being scared.
How had this man known his dragon’s name?
