King Beast - Vicious Flames

Chapter 52

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THIRD POV

The following day, Zerberus dragged Odette to a bizarre location.

"What is this place?" She asked, surveying the rocky platform that seemed to be suspended up in the sky.

There was a table that looked like it had been salvaged from a barbarian market—jagged edges, uneven legs, carved from a rock, and cutlery that could double as weapons, and a blue torch flickering above.

The view from there was both violent and impressive, a semi-dark panorama that looked like a romantic dinner set up for a Viking warlord — or, simply, a dragon Lord. The sun was a bloody slash on the horizon, and the freezing wind slammed into Odette.

"I just wanted to take you... out," Zerberus avoided her eyes, pointedly looking at his hands.

"Like a date?" She asked, flabbergasted.

The tips of his ears began to redden.

"You are blushing! I didn't know an immortal dragon could blush."

"Neither did I," he huffed blue smoke out. Zerberus looked confused and annoyed. He had never been flustered by simple questions. Or by anything at all.

"Choose," he snapped, gesturing towards the far corner of the platform.

At first, she hadn't noticed them.

Cages.

A blurry lizard man in a white vest, an apron, and a chef's hat, stood nearby, stoic and still like a statue, with a knife that resembled a machete-slash-axe.

There were large birds crowding the cages, all still alive and chubby, their feathers and beak shapes varied, a few boars that bumped their heads against the bars, and one small deer.

But in one smaller cage was something else. A furry creature that looked like the result of a forbidden romance between a raccoon and a large possum.

"Aww!" Odette pressed her face against the bars, ignoring the rest. The furry thing stared back, all curled up on the far corner of the cage, eyes black and huge.

"That one. Make it as raw as possible, but skin it well," Zerberus ordered, noticing Odette's interest. He loathed furry things like that, as their fur always got stuck in his fangs, but he told himself he would let her pick their dinner that night.

"Not my first pick, but if it makes you...sad-less?" Zerberus grumbled under his breath, studying Odette. Compromise. He was getting good at it, or so he thought.

The chef nodded once, ignoring Odette, and unlatched the cage, the knife gleaming.

The furry ball squeaked in those unforgiving, brutish hands as was brought out.

"Wait," Odette interjected, voice more assertive than she felt. What were they planning to do? "Hand it over!" Odette cried out at the chef.

Zerberus looked genuinely perplexed. "Why?"

The chef glanced at his Lord then, after another pause and a nod from him, tossed the furry thing to Odette.

She cradled it against her chest. "It's shaking so much! Poor you!"

Zerberus blinked slowly. "Don't you want to eat it?"