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War nodded and they started side by side down the pathway, leaving his advisor behind.

“How are you?” Zeir asked. “It’s been a while since we simply talked.”

“Things are stable at home, and the realms are in order. I’d say, for now, everything is well.”

Zeir smiled. “I meant how areyou?”

“Oh,” War said. He’d been busy watching the tensions grow between the two feline shifter clans. When time had no consequence, one day ran into the next. He never stopped to think about how he was. “I’m fine. And you? How is your family?”

“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.”

War paused and faced the king. “Did something happen?”

“No, nothing like that.” He waved a dismissive hand. “We’ve been friends for a long time. And yes, you have friends but no one to share your life with.”

War shifted, knowing where this was going.

“I don’t offer this lightly or without much deliberation. My daughter Varlett fancies you. You’ve known this for a while I’m sure. She is of proper age now, and I believe she will grow to be a powerful sorceress. You saw her potential yourself in the last battle. A match between the two of you would secure your ties here in Ryvengaard as well as strengthen my claim on my title. I wouldn’t be challenged as often for my position.”

These things were true, and yet his mind drifted not to the dragon princess but to the goddess of night. He couldn’t even fathom why. She was Hel’s wife now… This was an advantageous match, and Varlett was a very gifted sorceress for her age. In time she’d be one of the most dangerous dragons in Ryvengaard.

If he was to rule this realm and the dragons properly, it made sense he’d wed the princess. Although Varlett was still very young, only thirty-three. She was mature enough, but there was something about her character that always made him want to watch his back when she was around. He was five hundred years old, and dragons didn’t usually match make until they hitat leasta hundred. With a lifespan of a few thousand years, they tended to let their younger years be for play and discovery.

“You don’t need to answer now,” Zeir said. “Just consider it. You’re a god and I know the intricacies you all have with who you mate with. But I believe Varlett would give you powerful children.”

War had never cared about any of that. He hadn’t thought of having children yet or even considered a wife. “Is she here? Have you spoken to her about it?”

“No, I don’t want her to be crushed if you decline. And yes, she’s waiting in your tearoom.”

“What does she think we’re in discussions about?” War glanced back at his manor. The tearoom could be seen from here. She was likely watching them now.

“About the potential of battle with the Varmoose clan. They’ve been testing my border security lately, but with the Drakonan’s backing me, I doubt they’ll attempt a battle.”

War rubbed the back of his neck and tried to peer inside the window, but the daylight’s glare made it difficult. “I’ll take it into consideration.”

“I know she’s young but she’s ambitious.”

That’s what worries me,he thought.

He stepped into the tearoom to find her inspecting the items on his bookshelf. Her golden curls tumbled down her back like a waterfall to her hips. She put a hand on her petite waist, and he couldn’t help but follow the curve of her body. She was beautiful, and bronzed-brown skin against golden hair, as well as the two black dragon horns she let grow out of her head when most didn’t in this form, made her unique.

“How did the chat with my father go?” she turned and tucked her hands behind her back.

War plopped down in his oversized sky-blue chair and poured himself a cup of steaming liquid. He needed its calming properties. “Battle strategies would bore you no doubt, but I enjoy them.”

Before he could take a sip, she made her way across the room, took the tea from his hand, set it on the side table and hopped onto his lap. She straddled him, forcing her white dress to scrunch up to the apex of her thighs, revealing that she had no undergarments on. Pulse quickening, he swallowed hard and her talon slowly, gently, moved down his throat. Blackberries and spice filled his nostrils, her perfume. He set his jaw but didn’t make a move. “Varlett, he could walk in here.”

With the wave of her hand the door slammed shut, and a twist of her fingers the lock clicked into place. “You didn’t care about that last time. Or the time before—or the time before that.” Her lips gently pressed to his throat, trailing to his collarbone.

“Did you tell him we slept together?”

“No, why?” She palmed the sides of his face and pressed her lips to his. Her kiss was all-consuming and demanded more, always more.

Talons grazed his skin as hands slid up under his shirt, the tips dug into his chest. A sting burned his ear; her sharp teeth scraped his earlobe and he quietly hissed. “Because he proposed a marriage between you and me.”

Whether she told or not, Zeir must suspect and that must be why he offered her hand. Most dragons didn’t expect to marry their first sexual partner, but the rules were different for the royals. Maker, he knew it was a terrible idea, but her sultry voice, the way she always found a way to touch him in front of others but subtly, and then whispered promises of more once night fell, tickled the darkest senses in him. It wasn’t love but they couldn’t seem to stay away from each other once they’d had a taste.

She leaned away, licking the bead of blood from her bottom lip—his blood. She claimed the taste of it was euphoric, made her feel unstoppable, even one drop. The slits of her yellow eyes narrowed. “He proposed this today?”