Page 36 of Between Flames and Deceit (Dragon’s Heart Duology #1)

Chapter Thirty-Five

Kallias

G reaves’ voice shattered the tense silence, and Nienna’s head snapped toward the entrance. I grabbed her arm, yanking her beneath the desk. She stifled a yelp but obeyed, scooting back against the wood’s solid support. I slid into the chair, bracketing her between my legs.

The door creaked open, and I fought to keep my rage in check as my son entered, a sneer curling his lip as he flicked a disdainful glance at Greaves. My friend’s eyes swept the room over Tallon’s shoulder, catching mine. With a subtle nod, he retreated into the hall. I didn’t need his assistance to protect Nienna—not this time.

Her hand found my calf, fingers trembling with fear. The pressure of her grip anchored me to the moment, but the fear in her touch stoked the fury still boiling beneath my skin. The urge to shield her was visceral—raw and untamed. It wasn’t the careful calculation of a ruler, but the savage instinct of a beast. After the Hunt, I was never in any shape to make logical decisions.

“You look terrible, Father.” Tallon’s smirk was razor sharp, his eyes flicking to the tub and bucket beside me, his gaze lingering for a beat too long.

Cold water trickled down my leg, pooling in my boot. My eye twitched and I slipped a hand under the desk, waving my fingers in a subtle gesture.

“Careful, Tallon,” I warned, my voice low and clipped. “You’ve never known bloodlust. Choose your words with care.”

Nienna shifted between my legs, her shoulder grazing my knee. A cool cloth pressed into my hand, and I lifted it to wipe the sweat from my brow .

Tallon’s gaze sharpened on my movements, his smirk vanishing as he sank into a chair. We locked eyes, the air thick with tension. My anger simmered beneath the surface, building with each passing second.

“Why are you here?” I snapped.

He ruined the ceremony, cutting short what should have been a moment of peace. For once, I didn’t have to face this alone. Nienna was here, honoring our gods and traditions—her hands steady as she wiped away the blood. With every swipe, she showed me the closeness between life and death, how bloodlust and desire often danced in the same shadows. And then he had to show up. I despised him for it.

If he found her, there would be no stopping him from telling the high court. Her reputation would be in tatters. My own standing would crumble. I’d be forced to send her back to Draconia, away from the mob that would surely come for her. Then the dragons would fly for Radaan, but not in peace—but to lay waste to Reem.

“Didn’t miss me?” He chuckled. “I was feeling much better. Thought I’d show the princess around, but it seems I’ve lost track of her.”

When did he arrive? If he already searched for her, he must have come shortly after me—which meant he heard the horns.

“You ask me where she is while I’m in this state?” I leaned over the desk, irritation twisting inside me. The movement pulled my hips further from her, a dark frustration flaring at the separation. “She’d be wise to stay away.”

It wasn’t a lie. It was foolish to approach me after the Great Hunt. Even the generals knew better than to speak with me after the bloodshed on the battlefield. Men either needed time to recover, or a woman to slate their hunger.

I never had the latter.

“Has she seen you since you arrived?” He scoffed. “I wasn’t worried about her attending to you, Father. You look like you’ve rolled in blood.”

“She knows her place. Do you, Tallon?” My voice dropped low. “Yours was at my side. The fact that you’re here so soon after the slaying means you were close enough to hear the call for aid. Did you choose to ignore it?”

“I rode as fast as I could. Not all of us can claim glory.”

“Perhaps you should aspire for greater things.”

“Perhaps I do,” he huffed, stubborn. “I’ve decided to visit Gog.”

I leaned back, narrowing my glare. He slouched in the chair, dark hair falling across his forehead. His green eyes flicked away from mine, landing instead on the tub of water beside me. Nienna’s grip tightened on my calf, and I scowled at him.

“Why?”

“Verard told me about a horse race. Thought it best to strengthen relations with the districts along the Craggs. ”

“You avoided the Maize road?” I asked, voice sharp.

It was a direct route. I left him bedridden with alcohol poisoning, the orders clear—no wine while I was gone. Tallon was foolish, immature, but this? Pretending he was on his way to Gog and avoiding a visit here? Even he wasn’t that stupid.

No, this was intentional.

“You didn’t take the most direct route either. Passing through Phares? Did you have to provoke them so? The letter they sent me was splattered with ink. They were enraged!”

“Tallon.” My voice dropped, a low threat that simmered with growing frustration. His games were growing tiresome, and the fury beneath my skin was becoming harder to restrain. Nienna was too close for me to deal with him directly, but later—later there would be time to pry the information out of him or a Verard’gog.

A small hand crept up my thigh, pulling my focus away from Tallon. Nienna’s fingers kneaded my leg. The mix of anger and the sudden rush of desire twisted together, a knot of impatience coiling tight.

“I thought you’d appreciate the company.” his words dripped with mockery, and he grimaced, crossing his arms as if defensive.

“You come too late,” I muttered, covering Nienna’s hand with mine, holding it steady. “Mocking Radaan’s gods, then telling me you’re off to see a nobleman about a race? After your people were slaughtered not an hour’s ride away? Tell me why I shouldn’t send you through the Craggs to search for the mammoth’s young.”

“I’ve failed you yet again,” he grumbled, avoiding my eye. “I was told by a servant the princess was down this hall. Thought she might welcome my company. Not many places to hide in a dump like this.”

Nienna’s nails dug into my leg, her panic palpable. I traced soothing circles over her hand, keeping my gaze fixed on Tallon. Nothing would happen to her—not while I still breathed.

“She won’t welcome your company after you abandoned her for a horse race.”

“It’s not like she’d have a choice. As my future wife, she would have to entertain me.”

A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, a look that made my stomach clench.

“Out.”

“You will clean before dinner?” He sneered. “Can’t imagine she finds the gore in your hair attractive.” He stood, the chair scraping behind him.

I kept my posture stiff, my muscles coiling in readiness. If there had been a dagger within reach, or if Nienna weren’t between us, I would’ve drawn blood .

“You go too far, boy,” I snarled.

Tallon’s gaze drifted over me, his lips curling in disdain. His sneer lingered, dragging a chill over my skin where I usually felt steel-plated confidence. The scars etched into my body, once emblems of resilience, were exposed and hollow. Nienna’s presence rooted me in place, trapping me between lust and rage. To move would reveal her, but staying still made my anger fester.

A low chuckle escaped him, sharp and derisive, before he turned on his heel. He strode off without hurry, the arrogance in his posture igniting a deeper fury. Greaves pushed the door open, his eagerness to see him leave evident. Without a word, Tallon brushed past him, disappearing into the hallway’s shadows.

Greaves glanced back at me, his expression laced with unspoken questions. I shook my head, gripping Nienna’s hand as if it was the only thing tethering me to sanity. No one else could stay. No words would help. Only her presence kept my turmoil from splintering entirely. Her calming touch felt dangerous, soothing and agitating all at once, like an addictive venom.

When the door clicked shut, my glare lingered on the polished wood. The silence left me balancing a precarious anger I couldn’t dispel. Small fingers traced up my thighs, forcing me to recline, shifting away from her reach. She propped up on her knees, poking her head from beneath the desk.

Her eyes were fierce. “Why do you let him say things like that?”

My teeth ground together as I fought to form an answer.

Tallon was my son. As much as he disrespected me, as deep as his actions cut, he was still my heir. Blood bound us, and that alone meant I owed him protection. A king’s duty—despite the hatred that burned in my chest.

I loathed his existence, but the truth was, I needed him. As a father, I failed him in ways I had no dream of mending. After Eldeiade’s death, the thought of remarrying—it disgusted me. To sire another heir, to risk replacing Tallon—the notion turned my stomach.

She shattered whatever desire I had left for a woman.

Then Nienna entered my life and reignited it, a blaze impossible to resist.

I cupped her chin, my thumb grazing her lips, lifting her gaze to meet mine. My eyes traced the delicate curve of her neck, stirring the hunger within me.

“I do not always trust my tongue.”

Some things were better left unsaid. Tallon provoked me to the point where words spilled out before I could think. As king, I was calculated, careful. I couldn’t afford to speak impulsively—not even to him.

“You should have told him off,” she hissed. “He deserved to be put in his place. Why is he here? A race? I don’t believe it.”

“He’s here.” I slid my hand along the nape of her neck, fingers tangling in her hair. I pulled, tilting her head back, exposing her throat, feeding the primal beast inside me. “Because he knew the rumors of the mammoth. He guessed to find you here.”

She swallowed, the movement bobbing, but didn’t pull away. Fire spread through me, eroding whatever control I had left. Everything tightened, ignited. Every twitch of her fingers along my thighs stoked the heat inside me. My pulse stuttered when her gaze lingered, skimming over my body before it snapped back up, avoiding temptation.

“But you didn’t know about the mammoth.”

“He’s not always childish. He wants the truth for his theory.”

If I took a chance, I’d wager Tallon hoped to find her here, in this room, in this position—her head between my thighs, washing me clean of the past, completing this celebration of life.

He was dangerous. Though still a prince, he was becoming a man. A man whose power could rival mine one day. Immature, yes, but he was learning. If he discovered the truth of my relationship with his betrothed… if he had proof?

The throne would crumble beneath me, regardless of how well I bore the weight of Radaan.

“He thinks there’s something between us,” she murmured.

My fingers clenched in her hair, and my body went rigid. “What did he say to you?”

It was one thing for him to hurl accusations at me, but to approach her? To push her? He had no restraint. If he dared touch her, I’d make good on my promise.

Her eyes lowered, avoiding my gaze. She focused on my stomach, a defensive move. “He said he thinks we plan to replace him as heir.”

A heavy sigh escaped me, and my grip loosened. “I have no such hopes.”

Whether Tallon was truly mine, I couldn’t say, but I claimed him—for Radaan’s sake. For stability.

My kingdom had to lean on tradition. We were fortunate I survived the war, and the queen somehow conceived in the times I visited.

Bile surged in my throat, and I fought the impulse to pull away from Nienna as dark memories flooded my mind.

Greedy hands. Poisoned words. Scornful laughter. Ridicule. Demands and humiliation.

Nienna’s hand brushed my knee, then stopped, as if the disgust was written on my face. She studied me, her cheek resting against my leg, eyes shimmering with concern. A furrow creased her brow, and color warmed her cheeks. Her lips pressed into a tight line, a silent struggle.

Another reason I refused to let anything happen between us. She would want a child one day, and I couldn’t give that to her. Physically, there was no question—I could take her, but I would never father a bastard.

“You could still sire an heir.” Her attempt at a smile faltered, slipping into a frown as her gaze lingered on the set of my jaw.

Shame twisted through me, killing the last of my desire. She didn’t deserve my anger—rage that festered for years. I had no right to take out my frustration on her—a woman who gave and gave. Time after time, she offered me her warmth and passion, and I returned only bitterness. She was owed more than I could ever give.

“If you’re worried about my skills in bed,” I smirked, leaning over her—safely tucking my hips away from her, “I assure you, I could still father a child.”

Her blush deepened, lips parting as she absorbed my words.

“But I’ve done that duty.” I stood, forcing myself to part with her. A groan tore at my throat, pain echoing through me as our hands released. The distance between us was unbearable, a sharp ache that cut through my chest. “Now, I face different battles.”

Like the one pulling me away from her.

She sank onto her heels, palms resting on her thighs, her lips parted in invitation. The raw need in her eyes drowned in the hurt I caused, and I despised myself for it. I couldn’t give her more. I had no way to rewrite the oath that bound her and Tallon. There was no way to take back the moments we shared—how I fed her hopes, how I fed my own, knowing we would never have the satisfaction we craved.

“Princess Nienna of Draconia,” I extended my hand to her.

She gripped it, allowing me to pull her to her feet.

“The Dragon’s Heart.” A smile tugged at my lips as I brushed a loose strand of hair off her cheek, then tilted her chin upward. “You’ve washed the blood from my body, and the stain of death from my soul.”

Her expression softened at my words, and the itch to pull her close nearly undid me.

“Thank you,” I whispered, pressing my lips to her forehead, fighting my restraint. “Elohios grant me strength to protect Radaan.”

Veridis, grant me the passion to bring Radaan new life.

I resisted the impulse to tell her the words she was to speak in return. She had already given so much—too much—for me, for my kingdom. It troubled me that such a moment must remain a secret. A princess of Draconia risking everything for our traditions, laying it all on the line in the name of the gods.

“Now go, before Tallon finds you here.”

She lowered her head, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. I grinned as she curtsied—a shallow dip. Whether out of respect for my new role or simple nerves, I couldn’t say—and frankly, I didn’t care. The beast within me roared with satisfaction, basking in the gesture .

I watched her move across the room, quick and graceful, pausing only to crack open the door. Then, Greaves, ever the loyal friend, swung it wide, using his body to shield her as she slipped back into the library.

My heart swelled with a triumphant thrill. We had not been caught. She respected my traditions. Putting herself in subjection to my perceived needs.

Sun above, why did it feed the monster inside me?

Greaves slipped into the study, leaning against the doorframe. His eyes traced the length of my body, and he lifted a brow. “Want me to finish?” he asked, a grin playing on his lips.

I shot him a sharp glare.

He chuckled, shaking his head, and crossed the room. “Didn’t think she’d go through with it.”

“She shouldn’t have,” I muttered, reaching for the latches on his armor. It wasn’t the king’s place, but after the Hunt, I owed my friend the courtesy of helping him out of his gear.

He paused, his gaze meeting mine, and the humor melted from his face. “Kal, after everything, this is the one thing you deserve.”

I waved off his concern and jerked on the armor’s belts and latches. “This? Coming from the man who can’t stop reminding me of my age?”

“You did well for an old man today.”

The buckle gave way, and I yanked the chestplate free, setting it down beside my own gilded armor. “You can handle the rest.”

He chuckled when I turned to the tub full of cold water, doubling over to dunk my head under. I longed for my private bathing chambers, but this would have to suffice.

“And for that, you’ll personally see to my armor,” I said, scrubbing my scalp.

“That’s the servants’ job,” he groaned.

I straightened, working at my belt. “It’s your job to protect me.” I smirked. “Wouldn’t want them to miss oiling a strap or cleaning a buckle.”

He deadpanned, lips pressed tight as he set about removing his armor.

Nienna had done more for me than she realized. She hadn’t just honored our traditions; she lifted a weight from my chest. There was a humiliation that accompanied a slaying knowing my queen wouldn’t do her part—knowing I didn’t want her to. Eldeiade’s death had opened a new door to guilt, to memories of the times she’d called me, demanding my service.

Nienna’s choice to come of her own will—not bound by duty or tradition—and to take it on without hesitation eased something deep within me. It lightened my soul.

Our secret was like a candle’s flame, flickering in the dark. The more I knew her, the brighter that flicker grew. It threatened to turn into a bonfire, one that might expose us, burning my world to the ground.

The world I had given everything for.