Betrayal Foretold: Descended of Dragons, Book 3 by Jen Crane Read Free Book Online Page A

they were!”
    A mammoth of a man, whose animal form may very well have been a mammoth or mastodon, produced a weapon and stepped ominously to the front.
    The situation was dire. Not for us, particularly. We could burst back to dragon and kill the throng of people where they stood. But the larger truth was painfully obvious: the people of Thayer would never accept me; would never accept my family. Their fear was too deeply ingrained.
    Even though we had just defeated the evil sorcerer responsible for the most violent attack in Thayer’s history, we dragons were still looked upon as the enemy. Despite all evidence proving dragons weren’t inherently evil, but had been manipulated as weapons by said evil sorcerer, the people of Thayer wanted us dead. Although the true evil lay in Brandubh and Livia’s manipulations and murder, the people around us couldn’t see past their prejudices or defeat their fear.
    I let out a pent-up breath and scrubbed my weary eyes.
    “Stand back,” Gresham ordered the crowd. “I’ll take it from here.”
    The big man in front puffed his chest. “The hell you will,” he said. “You’re one of them .”
    “One of whom?” Gresham shook his head irritably. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m not a natural dragon; I’m an omni. I took the form to fight Brandubh.”
    The crowd didn’t care. Fear overrode their cognition; they had no interest in rationale. They circled us, and not just Mother, Bay and I. Gresham and Ewan were lumped in with us.
    “This is ridiculous,” I said and stomped a foot, growing ever more irritated with, but also fearful of the crowd. “We’re not your enemies. Brandubh and Livia were the bad guys. Brandubh’s the true cause of all this, and as you can see, he’s not a threat anymore. We just want to live our lives. Like you.”
    “You’re nothing like us,” a pinch-faced old woman sneered.
    Bay vibrated with anger. She wasn’t as even-keeled as the rest of us, and still had difficulty controlling herself after her recent imprisonment. She was dangerously close to changing again.
    A disturbance at the edge of the forest sent more murmurs through the crowd before the chatter slowed and quieted completely.
    The mob was awed.
    I stood on tiptoes and stretched to see what was happening, but couldn’t catch sight of it. I looked to Ewan, who shrugged. He couldn’t see either.
    Finally, the crowd parted and a tall, distinguished, sandy-haired man in an impeccable suit approached with authority.
    Gaspare .
    Prime Minister Gaspare Shaw, my uncle, had arrived. My first instinct was to rush to him. We had made a connection the moment we’d met that had strengthened with time. I trusted him. He was my family. And as prime minister, he had the power, the influence, the position—he was the one person that could get us out of such an impossible predicament.
    Gaspare wasted no time in taking control of the situation. “Ms. Stonewall, Mrs. Drakontos,” he nodded to me and Bay, but then he paused and seemed to look into my mother’s soul while searching for the right name. “Ms. Drakontos,” he finally said. She did not look up. “I must take you into custody. It’ll be best for all involved if you go with me willingly.”
    Bay bristled at the idea of being incarcerated. “Where do you intend to take us?”
    “Into my custody,” he repeated.
    “And just what are we charged with?” Bay stood straight and set her jaw. She was prepared for a fight.
    “Right now, I’m taking you in for questioning.” He offered no further details.
    The crowd grew raucous at his words. They were thirsty for blood—mine, Bay’s, Mother’s…it seemed even Gresham’s.
    The same pinched-face member of the mob piped up again, something about ridding Thayer of our kind for good.
    Gaspare Shaw was always in control. Always calm and collected. But tiny beads of sweat gathered at the wrinkle across his forehead. He wiped his palms on black bespoke dress pants. I was nervous, too, and