Page 50 of I Dream of Dragons

I snip that thought in the bud and sit straighter in the armchair. My stomach rumbles, but I ignore it. My fingers dig into the plush velvet armrests.

“Is it true that you bite Athdara and drink his blood?” I ask softly.

He tilts his head forward. “To ease his suffering.”

“I thought pain was the only thing that helps him control Phaethon. Not bloodletting.”

“Phaethon, ah yes.” He gives a slight nod. “Sudden physical pain distracts him. But the mental distress Athdara is constantly under still needs to be eased.”

“Your bite eases that distress?”

“Hosting an Eosphor of such caliber inside your body is a heavy burden. It is a different sort of pain.”

“I didn’t know. He… he’s in distress all the time?”

The king doesn’t reply.

My chest feels so damn tight. The protectiveness Jai has shown me, entering the games for me and holding me at night when the nightmares woke me up, those crooked, boyish smiles he gifted me, and to know he’s always in pain? That’s my heart on the floor.

Why does it make me so sad?

The king finally turns away from the fire, and I find displeasure written all over his face. “Now we shall speak of your misconduct.”

Oh.He hadn’t been teasing me earlier. My nails dig into the velvet. “I apologize. I thought?—”

“Youthought,” his voice cracks like a whip, “that shoving at the king, in his own palace, in front of his courtiers, was wise?”

I bow my head. He’s in his royal rights to execute me for my audacity, but… this is Mars. He wouldn’t hurt me. “Of course not. I wasn’t thinking straight after the trial.”

“Such behavior is unacceptable.”

I grit my teeth. “But, Mars?—”

“Inexcusable and punishable.”

He sounds serious. So serious. I swallow hard. “How will you punish me, then?”

He walks slowly around the low table toward me, his eyes like shards of ice. “I will be magnanimous and this time I shall not. Because you are my bride.”

“Your bride?” A nervous laugh escapes me. “About that. This mark you put on me… You didn’t mean it, right?” My heart drums an uneven beat—one for hope, two for despair. “You barely remember me from?—”

“You accepted the mark. Too late to question it.”

Heat rises in my chest. “I never asked for your mark. Why did you place it on me without asking?”

“I am the Anax. Your king.” His voice softens as his gaze moves over my form. “And you are mine, are you not?”

“If I am…?”

“So you see,” he says, stopping before me, “I cannot punish you without causing whispers. We have to present a united front.”

I blink. His words are so… cold. Of course the mark would mark me as his, but with the shock of realizing he’s Mars and the sea trial that followed, I hadn’t been able to think straight, and now…

“What about your betrothed?” I whisper, my mouth dry. “Lady Selene?”

“That is another matter.”

“Is it?”