Skirting the Scales: The Scales Trilogy, #2

By Niki McAlister

Clarissa's life has never been her own, and she was beginning to think it never would be. Coming out on the other end of withdrawals, Clarissa finds herself in a strange city. Dazed, confused, and now quite obviously pregnant, Clarissa is at the mercy of her captors: a former lover and his new beau.

Her master had given his permission for her to be used as a brood mother, never intending for her to carry them past a week or two but here she was chained to a bed with no idea how long it had been. She barely has time to register the gravity of the situation when the trio is discovered by the tireless hunter dispatched from the Dragon Kingdom to collect her. Ousted from the relative safety of the outlaw city they'd taken refuge in, Djinn and his lover gather her up and flee into the unforgiving wasteland known as the Crystal Desert with the goal of reaching the top of a dormant volcano and beseeching help from the group of harpies that live there.  

Along the way, Clarissa is forced to come to terms with the reality of her situation. If she survives the pregnancy, her options for the future are bleak, consisting of being a runaway slave or handing herself over to the Dragon Kindom--who wants her for the magic held within her blood. Clarissa had always prided herself on being prepared for anything during her time spent training in the Elf Kingdom, but nothing could have prepared her for this.


This is book two of a trilogy that has several single-character standalone novellas released between the main story. Because of the topics broached within, this series is for adults only, 18+. 

Tropes: Unwilling hero, Female MC, Love Triangle (of sorts), Every shade of grey morals, On the run/ Race against the clock/ Being hunted, Marked for greatness

 

Content Warnings: Enslaved race, Oviposition repercussions, Death/Near Death experiences, Discussing harm/murder of adults and children

• Language: English
• Publisher: Niki McAlister
• Release date: Oct 18, 2020
• ISBN: 9798201628208

Niki McAlister

I've always been an avid reader of romance and fantasy, living in my own little world and constantly getting yelled at for daydreaming at inappropriate times. I currently reside in Tennesee with my husband, two boys and my many, many pets.

Book preview

1

Djinn

Djinn patted Clarissa’s hand as she slumbered, his head cocking at the faint sound of the front door easing closed. His hand jerked away from her silky skin, the tiny scales on his fingertips scraping abruptly across her palm as he shifted to peer into the hallway. He wasn’t expecting anybody, and he knew that he’d bolted the front door. Djinn left Clarissa’s side, nimbly picking up the fireplace poker he kept by the door. His fingers clutched the metal rod as he lifted it over his shoulder, watching intently as the handle on the bedroom door jiggled. He sucked in a shaky breath, readying himself to fight to the death to defend the woman he loved. The door swung open and Djinn let out a shriek, throwing himself toward the shadow before the person invading the bedroom stepped beyond the threshold.

For fuck’s sake Djinn, it’s just me! Rory growled, using his tail to seize the poker mid-air and flicking it across the room—disarming Djinn in one abrupt movement.

Carried forward by momentum, Djinn hit the ground on his back—the air escaping his lungs with an ‘oof’ as he blinked slowly in confusion. He struggled up onto his arms, shaking away the remnants of disorientation. What’s going on? You weren’t due back for a few more weeks.

Rory fidgeted visibly, ignoring Djinn’s question while navigating the room in silence before putting his hand on Clarissa’s swollen belly as she slept. He was silent as his palm jittered, practically indistinguishable from the developing babies within her. Rory’s head lifted slowly towards the wall behind the bed. His fingers glided along the tether that held her wrists to the headboard, giving each wrist a firm tug to make sure that she was still secure. He then lightly touched the metal ball gag they had pushed into her mouth, his brows furrowing at the sight of her dry, cracked lips and pale face. Any issues with her?

None today, but she had a tantrum a few days ago during a bathroom break. Djinn said softly, averting his eyes from the bound and gagged Elf.

She might be coming around then. We’ll see what she’s like in the next few days. Rory turned, offering Djinn a strained smile before leaving the room.

Wait, Rory! Djinn scrambled off the floor. You didn’t answer my question.

He found Rory standing in the tiny kitchen with his back to the doorway. Why are you here? Djinn asked once more, his tone giving away his concern.

Rory touched the worn counter top, his fingers locating a circle on the burned wood and tracing it quietly. They’d taken up residence in Frett’s apartment after fleeing the Naga kingdom with Clarissa in tow. Rory was still struggling with the knowledge that his father was alive and well for most of his life while he spend his childhood suffering as a slave. He’d been making the trip back and forth to the Dragon Kingdom for months, keeping up appearances and filtering information back to Djinn when he arrived during the last week of each month.

Djinn had begged Rory during his last four visits to stay in Kijul and give up his life in the castle, but Rory had insisted on playing the double agent—saying that he had to monitor Ghast’s movements so they could stay one step ahead of the King’s right-hand man. Djinn suspected there was more to it than that, and there probably was. Rory had done some fucked up shit to Clarissa, from interfering with her memories using his venom to forcefully impregnating her which subsequently put her life at risk. Their relationship was on the rocks as it was. Everything rested on Clarissa’s fate during this pregnancy, and Rory knew it.

Rory. Djinn said decisively, clearing his throat. What is going on?

They’ve excommunicated me, okay? Rory sighed, swiveling around to face Djinn. His eyes like daggers forcing Djinn to sink lower to the ground as he went on. Word reached the kingdom of my… transgressions and one of my regulars came to me before the King could send for me. I had to leave under the cover of night like a common whore.

As the words Rory was speaking registered in his brain, something activated within him—urging him to drape his arms around Rory’s shoulders and console him. Djinn had encountered this feeling many times during their relationship, but given how strange things were between them currently he found himself wondering if this was simply a knee-jerk reaction or if the cunning Naga had trained him during their time together to behave this way. He felt torn as he stood there, fighting the part of himself what wanted to pull the secrets from Rory’s lips physically. Djinn’s vision was clouded with a gray haze as he looked at Rory, the silhouette of his lover distorting as it flipped between the two personalities housed within his chiseled frame. Was he conniving enough to have planned all this out from the beginning, or had the most intelligent Naga he’d ever known finally slipped up and thrown the fate of all three people here into the air?

Truthfully, Djinn had begun to blame himself for not seeing this situation coming. Although it seemed rather far-fetched to envision that he’d be hiding out in his former supplier’s apartment with both of his most recent romantic partners, Rory had frequently displayed jealous behavior during their time together at the Dragon Kingdom. Every day was a new adventure, but the fact that Djinn never knew how Rory would react to anything was a constant. He should have seen something like this coming, especially since he knew Rory would likely come into contact with Clarissa when he traveled to the Naga Kingdom. I’m sorry, he breathed, unsure of what else he could say.

Don’t be. Just a few more weeks until the babies are here. I don’t need the Dragon Kingdom; I’ve got a family coming. Rory plastered a patronizing smile onto his face, sticking the jab in deeper. Having a family had been Djinn’s idea, and he was ever ready to shove that in Djinn’s face whenever they circled back around to the blame game.

Djinn’s gaze fell to the floor, the tendons in his tail fidgeting just out of view of Rory as he stood rigidly in the kitchen. They hadn’t sat down and discussed what the future held, although it was clear that Rory had defaulted to the original plan of raising a family together. Their escape from the Naga Kingdom had happened so unexpectedly, and the race to find safety outweighed the need for further discussion. After settling into Frett’s home and securing Clarissa, who was still in the more violent stages of Euphoria withdrawal, Rory became too distant to ask about anything as significant as the nature of their relationship.

Rory’s attitude continued to worsen over time before he ultimately decided to leave for the Dragon Kingdom. Djinn was initially concerned that Rory wouldn’t return but after the first few trips he realized that the vibe in the tiny apartment was better whenever Rory wasn’t there. The details surrounding their escape and kidnapping hadn’t reached the Dragon Kingdom yet at that point, but the anxiety of knowing that it was barreling towards them like an enraged centaur made Rory seethe with rage. His furious outbursts forced Djinn to become more and more timid as he feared what it could mean for both him and Clarissa if Rory suddenly decided they weren’t worth the hassle.

He strongly suspected that Rory’s behavior was also exacerbated by the unknowns surrounding their future. Back at the Dragon Kingdom Djinn was ready to commit to Rory forever, which is why he broached the subject of children. In his mind the kids would serve to strengthen their bond by proving to Rory that he was serious about his love, as well as hopefully passing on Rory’s Euphoria gene—but just the sheer shock of Rory’s actions surrounding Clarissa had planted a seed of doubt into Djinn’s brain that had taken root and began to lock itself in as the rift between them grew day by day.

* * *

The boys hunkered down in the carriage as it galloped across Iruli, its driver drugged into submission by Rory before they’d left the Naga kingdom. Rory had been sitting by the back door with his ear pressed against the worn wood for hours, focusing on something. Clarissa was curled up on Djinn’s lap, sweat beading across her forehead as she came out of her venom-induced stupor.

Shut her up! Rory hissed, as Clarissa whined in her sleep.

Djinn cupped Clarissa’s cheek as he bared his teeth at Rory. What is your problem now? he snarled.

I’m listening for something.

What the hell could you be listening for that’s so important? It’s not like you could hear anything over the horses up front and the squeal of the carriage.

Rory sat up from the door for a moment, stretching out his neck as he peeked out from the window he’d blocked with his tail the moment they climbed inside hours ago. The air between them was growing tenser by the second, and for a moment Djinn thought he saw a crack in Rory’s facade. Ghast’s stallion is named Raksha. He’s a bit of a legend back home. I’ve seen him from a distance a few times, but they say that if Ghast sets him on your trail you won’t know he’s coming until its too late.

Djinn scoffed. That sounds more like a tale they tell young children in the Dragon Kingdom. We had plenty of stories like that about dragons or monsters stealing us away if we tried to leave the tunnels without permission. Relax dude, I think we’re in the clear. I hit the guy pretty hard with that candlestick, he probably passed back out after we took off.

Rory’s shoulders fell somewhat as he chuckled slightly. You hit him pretty hard.

They giggled quietly for a few moments until Clarissa whined again. Djinn pursed his lips, breaking eye contact with his lover as he turned his attention to the love of his life. Some part of him knew it must’ve hurt to watch him fawn over Clarissa like that, but he didn’t care. She wouldn’t even be in this state if Rory had minded his own business. His actions were utterly despicable, and that he’d ruined her memories of him made Djinn feel like Rory didn’t trust him. Was Rory so afraid of being left alone that he was prepared to take out any potential threat to keep Djinn all to himself? Clarissa groaned in his lap and panted heavily, her body shaking like a leaf.

Should we keep her… drugged until we reach Kijul? Djinn asked, a thick layer of disgust coating both his words and his expression as he met Rory’s stare.

No. Rory answered evenly. I’ll pay the driver extra to turn a blind eye to the cries. By the time we reach Kijul she’ll be well on her way to recovery.

Djinn rolled his eyes as Rory went back to listening at the door, dropping his tail down to block out the window again and drenching them both in darkness. In the shadows, Djinn’s mind raced as he idly stroked Clarissa’s hair. The idea of her going through withdrawals brought back a familiar demon from his past. He knew he could see her through it, but there was something more pressing on his mind. Was Rory aware that Clarissa had the Spark? Did he dare ask? How would he explain the foot long torrent of fire he’d seen her project several times now if it came up during her detox?

His eyes darted then to her belly, barely bulging with Rory’s newly laid eggs. They’d fled so hastily that he’d never had the time to consider the fact that without Junard they were all in the dark about this pregnancy. How long should they leave the eggs in? How would they induce labor? He knew all too well that if they stayed in too long, Clarissa’s life would be in mortal danger, and with her coming down from Rory’s mental manipulations, her knowledge of the process was next to useless. Djinn felt a shudder roll through his body as the first tendrils of dread crept into his mind. The breath strangled from his lungs as the weight of their situation fell upon him like a boulder from the sky.

2

Rory

Rory spent the entire trip trying to anticipate Ghast’s moves. Having spent the formidable years of his life within the Dragon Kingdom, he’d heard plenty of stories about the deadly right hand of the king. There was always some part of him that had feared being at the other end of Ghast’s fury, and here he was now.

Every time the driver stopped to rest his horses Rory would ply him with more venom. It was imperative that the free Elf couldn’t remember anything about them because Ghast would locate him eventually. During the two weeks the trio spent crammed into the wagon there was mostly silence. Rory could physically feel the distance growing between himself and Djinn as the minutes ticked by. The growing burden of keeping Clarissa under control took over their every waking moment. The boys passed her between them so they could each take turn sleeping, which gave Rory plenty of time to think about what he’d done. He watched the girl sleep occasionally, feeling a sting of regret for his actions. He’d never planned on making her a part of their lives, even if their mating was the best sex he’d ever had. The conflict in his mind tugged him in two directions as he stared down at her sleeping form, sometimes unable to control the rising urge to tighten his grip on her. Her grunts of discomfort always brought him back to reality, leaving him cramped and confused about his emotions once more.

Djinn was his, and he’d die before he sat idly by and let the love between these two bloom all over again. Rory’s love for Djinn was like a wildfire that danced across his skin, threatening to burn him alive. Whenever they made eye contact, it felt like an enraged centaur was rearing back in his chest before taking off with a battle cry. He knew he needed to say something, to vocalize his feelings before it was too hard to broach the subject—before Djinn fell back in love with Clarissa and he was left alone to care for a clutch of offspring he’d allowed Djinn to talk him into—but he couldn’t bring himself to form the words. After days of working up the courage to say something, Rory was cut short as the carriage rolled to a stop outside the eastern entrance to Kijul.

We’re here. Djinn said stiffly as the driver pulled open the door, dousing the trio in the last rays of sunlight. Rory felt Djinn slipping away in that moment, both mentally and physically. He watched as Djinn hefted Clarissa in his arms and exited the carriage, pausing briefly to wait for Rory before leading him to an unassuming door just down the street. The clip-clop of the carriage’s horses faded away as the city gates swung shut, allowing the vigilantes to resume their posts outside. Djinn was using his tail to fish a key out from under the mat and Rory was growing more confused by the second as Djinn pushed open a door that looked way too small to have belonged to his father.

Let’s move. Djinn hissed. We don’t need anyone seeing you standing there like a tourist.

Rory squeezed himself through the cramped doorway, turning to push the door closed as Djinn switched on a light in the middle of the room—not bothering to show him around before taking Clarissa straight back to a room in the corridor. His body tense, Rory looked around hesitantly. This is where his father had lived for hundreds of years, and where he died.

My entire childhood he was right here, just a few days south. Every time mother had to leave to steal food for us, he was sitting here, living comfortably.

An old cushion and couch sat covered in dust in the small living room. The front window had been covered by a black blanket long ago, making the entire room dark and depressing in the yellow light of the lamp. Aged papers sat in small piles around the room, alongside dusty plates and cups. Several garbage bags were piled by the door, one of which had leaked something that had long since congealed. Rory peered around the doorway to his left, finding the slightly larger room to be a kitchen. The doorway had rub marks on either side, suggesting that his father had been so large that he had to squeeze in and out of the room whenever he cooked. The same marks were visible on the walls of the hallway.

If he was in business with Djinn, surely he had enough money to buy a bigger place. Why would he stay here in this tiny apartment if he was clearly uncomfortable?

Clarissa suddenly howled from the back room, and even though he knew he should see if Djinn needed help, Rory decided instead to explore the cabinets. He knew it was petty, but just listening to his man comfort that walking uterus made his hands curl into fists. Djinn’s voice was hushed as he tried to calm her, his words muffled by the walls between them. In the cabinets, Rory found more plates, some packages of crackers and some bread that was nearly petrified. He located an empty garbage bag and piled the rotten food into it, trying to find something useful to do so he didn’t have to witness Djinn falling in love with his little whore again. The bag rustled as he dropped broken bottles and old packages into it, rising on his tail to search every shelf. The highest shelf was just over his head, and even on the tip of his tail, Rory couldn’t quite reach the back of it. He put a coil on the counter and heaved himself up, holding onto the shelf as he peered over the side—confused by what he found.

Squirreled away in the uppermost area of the cabinet were several glass vials like the ones used all over the world to transport Euphoria, but what was in these vials certainly wasn’t like any Euphoria he’d seen. The liquid was thick, congealed to one side of the vial and dark red like wine. Rory shook the vial, trying to move the liquid around, but it stuck like glue. He yanked the cork from the vial, reeling back at the stench that wafted out. It smelled like death, like a rancid mixture of decaying flesh and soured food. Against his better judgment, Rory poked the end with his finger, finding it gelatinous.

Djinn said Frett died from some sort of illness. The ancient Rattler had been Djinn’s sole Euphoria supplier for decades before his demise, so maybe this was Euphoria at some point? Was this what happened to their venom when they got sick like he had? Was his illness so bad that it tainted his venom somehow? Rory was mystified at the prospect and horrified at the idea that he could meet the same fate one day in the future. He tucked the vial back onto the top shelf and closed the cabinet. He couldn’t stay here much longer. The ghost of his father had seeped into every nook and cranny of the tiny apartment, and being bottled up in here with Djinn, Clarissa, and his unresolved issues would only lessen his chances of fixing things with the man he loved.

What the fuck do you mean you’re going back? Djinn yelled, following him through the apartment as Rory gathered up his belongings. It was clear that Djinn wasn’t happy with the idea of staying behind while he returned to the Dragon Kingdom, but Rory never expected him to be. The idea to return home had come to him after several days of watching Djinn dote on Clarissa. He couldn’t just sit here in a permanent state of waiting, never knowing if or when Ghast would show up to kill them all. He’d spent a few days sleeping on the couch, helping Djinn buy some food for them both and hunt down a blacksmith to buy what they needed to secure Clarissa before he made his intentions clear. The last thing they needed was an out-of-her-mind pregnant Elf running through the streets of Kijul, drawing attention to them.

I have some things I need to tend to back home. Rory explained calmly, refusing to turn around and witness the rage that was surely painted across Djinn’s face. It pained him to see Djinn upset, like watching a child spin into a tantrum when you were doing the best thing for them. I’ll be back soon, don’t worry.

Are you kidding me? How do you know they aren’t waiting to lock you away the minute you return?

I don’t. Besides, if I’m imprisoned you won’t have to worry about me coming between you. Rory muttered under his breath bitterly.

What?

Rory bit his lip. His back turned to Djinn as he paused in the open doorway of the apartment. Nothing. I’ll be back soon.

Part of him hoped Djinn would stop him, but as Rory neared the southern gate he found himself utterly alone. Even as he slowly selected the free Elf taxi service that would take him back to the Dragon Kingdom Djinn was nowhere to be seen. As he paid the young lad his half of the fee upfront and settled into the carriage Rory couldn’t help but allow the bitter feeling of resentment to take root in his breaking heart.

3

Rory

Rory stood in the doorway watching Djinn sleep, coiled on a makeshift bed on the floor in the tiny bedroom that had housed Clarissa for the previous few months. He leaned against the doorframe sullenly as he peeled an apple with a sharp knife he'd found in the kitchen, his eyes flickering between Djinn's slumbering form and Clarissa's. Crossing the threshold of the room, Rory stopped to loom over the Elf as he sliced a piece of apple and put it in his mouth, using the tip of the blade. Her stomach was enormous now, swollen with the promise of new life… and his future. Truth be told, he didn't even want the offspring if it came hand-in-hand with losing Djinn. He hadn't dared to voice that sentiment aloud, however, as Clarissa's life currently hung in the balance and he knew better than to cheapen her struggle. Without a way to safely remove the eggs, the subject of their future would remain on hold, and telling Djinn that he no longer wanted his possible children would only make things worse between them.

His gaze slowly flickered over to the sleeping Naga, his stomach twisting at the sight of Djinn's messy—now practically white—hair. How he adored watching Djinn sleep, the stillness and silence between them temporarily on hold while his body renewed itself for another day. The apple and knife clattered onto the