Page 10 of The Dragon 2 (Tokyo Empire #2)

Chapter eight

The One Who Smelled Like Fire

Sol

Sol picked up her pace. Her bare feet slapped against the broken cobblestones, each step biting into her skin. Her shawl fluttered behind her, and the air around her shoulders prickled like it had grown teeth.

Still, no sound came from whoever was watching her.

Just the hush of wind.

The hiss of dying embers.

The fading trail of dragon fire in the sky.

She turned down the older road—the one only Lowlys used after long shifts of scrubbing stone or shoveling waste.

The lanterns here were broken.

The homes further ahead were sunken and crooked.

This stench drenched the air, of soot, mixed with meat gone bad.

Even the rats had the good sense to avoid this road and the quarter.

But Sol moved on.

Even though she felt those eyes on her, she did not slow.

Who is watching me?

She cast a glance over her shoulder and saw nothing.

Is this just in my mind? Could going crazy be an effect of using too much of my magic?

All around her, the shadows breathed and shifted like smoke.

Her heart began to slow.

No. There’s no one watching me. It is in my mind.

She exhaled.

It’s just my frenzied nerves. Just the leftover tremble of power. Just. . .

A step sounded behind her.

She turned again yet saw nothing.

But she knew.

Someone was near.

The air had changed.

The road narrowed further, the trees from the Wretched Forest lined the path and leaned in like eavesdropping ghosts.

Moonlight barely reached here—just thin streaks of silver.

I must get to safety.

Sol moved quickly, her shawl now drawn tight across her shoulders, bare feet silent on the cold, broken path.

But then, a scent coiled in the air, faint and strange.

She paused.

I know that scent.

She sniffed once, and then again.

Is that jasmine? Sharp and wild. Yes.

Her brows drew together.

That didn’t make any sense. There were no flowers around the Lowly Quarter.

No gardens.

No perfumed bodies.

Nothing but soot and rot.

And then—beneath the scent—stormwater. Clean and electric, like rain clinging to rooftops after lightning.

And under that?

Flame.

Not woodsmoke or burnt meat. But true flame. The kind that breathed.

Her pulse stuttered.

No. Korin’s scent. It couldn’t be.

She spun in place, scanning the road again. Yet, it was empty and still. But the scent wrapped around her and thickened with every breath.

It is him. Korin.

That impossible, maddening fragrance she could still feel curled beneath her skin. It was the scent that had invaded her magic, threaded through her veins when her power collided with his.

“Impossible,” she whispered.

If Korin were here—truly here—the kingdom would already be screaming. The warning bells would be ringing. Soldiers would be loudly marching to fight him.

The sky would be full of fire.

The earth would quake under his wings.

And this road?

It was too narrow.

Too cramped.

Too broken.

There wasn’t even room for him to land without crushing the front of the Lowly Quarter.

It couldn’t be him.

But the scent didn’t lie.

It clung to her.

Danced through her nostrils.

Sank into her tongue.

Wild jasmine, stormwater, and flame.

And now she was trembling again—not from magic.

But from something deeper.

Older.

He's not in the sky.

She swallowed hard.

He's on the ground, but. . .where?

Her hand twitched at her side.

Power crackled softly at her fingertips.

She put her view back in front of her and moved faster, not sure of what was going on, but certain that she had to get home.

Someone is around. Korin or someone else. If they grab me, I’ll freeze their heart solid.

She didn’t care who it was.

Korin.

King’s soldier.

Thief.

Mage.

She had stopped a god dragon, so she could stop whoever this was.

Being careful, she glanced over her shoulder again and froze.

What?

A figure stood twenty feet behind her.

A man.

Pale skin.

Tall.

Broad.

Muscular.

Still.

He just stood where the road ended, one foot just over the edge of shadow, one shoulder bathed in moonlight.

Huge.

Towering.

Cloaked in black.

From what she could see in the limited moonlight, he wore no crest, no sigil. Nothing that identified him as royal or Nobel.

But what made her breath catch was the hair.

Dark.

Long.

Loose.

Black as obsidian silk.

That’s not possible.

No one in Hareef wore black hair but the Lowlys. However, his clothes said Royal Nobel.

He’s not from around here.

She took a step back.

He didn’t move.

She inhaled and still caught Korin’s scent in the air.

Maybe I’m wrong.

She blinked hard, eyes sweeping the man’s silhouette again; motionless, cloaked, massive. That hair. That impossible, long, black hair.

That scent was Korin’s.

Yet, this wasn’t Korin.

It couldn’t be.

Her thoughts whirled.

I’ve read the scrolls. The books Father hid beneath the floorboards. Every legend, every field report, every heretic’s tale about dragons. . .

Not one of them mentioned a dragon keeping a servant. Let alone a human man who reeked of a dragon’s godlike scent.

Korin flies alone. That’s what they always said. No kin. No court. No riders. No mage to guide him. Just death and fire.

The tales of other dragons had been written centuries ago when there had been tons of them. Something had happened, and now there was only one—Korin.

But. . .is this man connected to the dragon in some way?

Maybe he was just here.

Coincidence.

Stranger.

Another soul drawn to the wreckage of Hareef like flies to carrion.

Maybe. . .

Her gaze drifted back to the shadows behind him, searching for some logic, some anchor to fasten her racing heart.

Maybe the scent isn’t coming from him. Maybe it’s. . .

She sniffed again, slower this time, trying to isolate it.

The scent clung to the road, thick, sweet, and sinful.

But it wasn’t moving.

Not drifting in the wind.

Not approaching.

It was resting on something.

An item, maybe? A token? A shard of something Korin left behind?

Her stomach clenched.

Or maybe—gods above—this man has something that belongs to Korin.

Just like that, her fear twisted into something sharper.

Curiosity.

Her fingers curled at her sides, magic flaring just beneath her skin.

If that man held something of the dragon’s. . .then what was he doing here? And why was he watching her?

Her heartbeats picked up but she calmed herself.

No. I will not fear him or anyone else. I am not the woman I was yesterday.

She focused on her hands. More cold, whispered around her knuckles. Silver veins lit beneath her skin.

I can end this stranger if I must.

She backed away again, breath ragged. Her gaze stayed locked on his unmoving frame.

She took another step.

Then another.

Then she turned her body to go.

Get home. Don’t let him see you afraid.

She picked up her pace and didn’t hear anything.

No boots.

No breath.

Not even the wind.

That’s what made her stop again.

It’s too quiet.

She glanced over her shoulder.

He is gone. Just like that? So fast and without sound.

Her pulse spiked.

Am I safe now?

She whirled around and the man was right in front of her.

No!!!

Just a few feet away.

Too close.

Too fast.

Sol screamed.