Page 11 of The Dragon 2 (Tokyo Empire #2)

Chapter nine

The Man. The Monster. The Flame.

Sol

A sound torn from the deepest part of Sol’s body. It echoed along the road.

Her hands flew up, glowing now, light bursting from her palms.

He just remained in front and watched her, not even a little bit afraid of what she might do.

Then she saw his eyes.

Gold.

Molten.

Burning.

Endless.

She stepped back.

He didn’t flinch.

He didn’t speak.

He just looked at her like she was the last star in the sky.

And his face.

The Goddess above.

The man’s beauty struck her like a slap across the soul. No man in Hareef looked like that. Not the King in all his polished silk. Not the prince with his crystal-cut cheekbones and rehearsed smirks.

This stranger—this impossibility in the dark—looked as if the Goddess herself had carved him with desire in mind.

His jaw was square and cruel, shadowed with the hint of a beard, lips full and curved with wicked secrets. His brows were bold, black, and arched just enough to make him appear half-amused and half-predator.

And those gold eyes made her stomach twist with awe and terror.

He looked like he’d never knelt before anything in his life.

And now he was staring only at her—a Lowly that had never been seen by anyone but her parents.

When he finally spoke, his voice was dark and deep, a rolling thunder not from the sky but from the ground itself. "What is your name?"

She blinked and then swallowed. "Y-you are not a Lowly—"

He tilted his head. "A what?"

"A Lowly. The only people that should be on this road."

"There are only certain people who can be on this road?"

"Y-yes."

He took a half step closer. "Says who?"

"King Bren." She stepped back.

"Ahhh. The king of this burning kingdom. Is he even alive still? His castle is in flames." He pointed off to the right.

She quickly glanced that way.

Far off, a raging inferno hugged the castle. Hundreds of soldiers still battled to put out the flames.

The man lowered his hand. “If I were you, I would not concern myself with a king who could not even protect his own home.”

She opened her mouth and then closed it.

He asked again, softly but firmly, "what is your name?"

She shivered and said the only thing Lowlys were supposed to say when asked. "I am. . .nothing."

He shook his head, slow and sure. "No. You are beautiful. You are enchanting. You are power."

She gasped and stepped back. “Who are you?”

“I am someone who wants to know your name.” Those gold eyes flashed. "How did you get here?"

"Get where? To this road?"

He frowned. "No. How did you get to this, as you call it. . .this kingdom."

She narrowed her eyes. "I was born here."

"You were not."

She tensed. "I-I was."

"You were not."

She backed up some more. "I must go."

"You must stay."

She lifted her hand. "Please, leave. I do not want to hurt you."

He smiled. "Try."

“What?”

“Try to hurt me.”

“B-but. . .”

“Do it.”

Fear surged with instinct, and soon her palms burned cold. Fast, she threw a blast of ice toward him.

He vanished.

What? Where did he go?!

Then a whisper came by her. "Good try, little one."

She shrieked and stumbled forward. When she turned around, he stood only three feet away from her and those golden eyes glowed brighter.

His long hair shifted in a wind that didn’t exist. And gods, the scent around him—jasmine, stormwater, flame.

He smelled like Korin.

He’s connected to the dragon somehow. But what could link a man to a dragon?

"Your fragrance," his voice twisted along her spine, "It reminds me of a powerful creature that I have not seen for over a hundred years.”

“Y-you have lived longer than a hundred years?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“It is my way.”

“What way?”

“I wonder. . .could you be. . ."

"I-I don’t know what you are talking about."

"You were not born here, so. . .who found you?"

She flinched. "I’m not to tell that story."

"But you will for me." He leaned his head to the side. "You will because you have always been curious to know who you are and what you are. And from my smelling this kingdom. . .you are the only one here who looks like you. Am I correct?"

She trembled.

"Who found you and how?"

"My. . .parents."

"Who you think are your parents."

"They raised me."

"But they did not birth you. Did they?"

"N-no."

"And how did they find you?"

She shook her head.

"Tell me."

She whispered. "My mother says. . .they found a large blue egg in the middle of the forest.”

His eyes widened in shock. “An egg. How. . .big was it?”

“My father says that the egg was the size of a big chair and just as wide.”

Shock covered his face.

He studied her for several silent seconds and then whispered, “Please. . .tell me more.”

“My parents had no idea what could have laid the egg, but they were poor and starving, so they took it home to eat. They both had to carry it.”

“Dear Gods. How could this be?” He grinned. “Tell me more.”

“But. . .”

“Please.”

“It took them a long time to carry the egg back home and then into the kitchen. Once they did, they set the fire for the oven and gathered tons of tools to crack it open. But then the egg began to crack on its own—"

"It was the heat from the oven that triggered the Becoming ."

"The becoming?"

"Yes, little one."

She shivered. "What am I?"

"What did your parents say came out of the egg?"

"A little brown baby. Me."

"Intriguing."

"What am I?"

"I cannot tell you, because your brain would not allow it. But. . ."

She raised her brows.

"I could show you, little one."

Her voice trembled. "Why do you smell like Korin?"

He blinked and then more shock covered that handsome face. “You smell Korin?”

“I do.”

His pupils flared. The temperature between them rose like breath against glass. “Hmmm. Do you not like the smell? Or. . .do you like it too much?"

Sol blushed. "Tell me why you smell like him."

"I am something that you would not understand."

"What is that?"

"Your questions. They are not good ones. Therefore, I am not triggered to be honest." He inched forward.

She stepped back.

He smiled, and her heart skipped.

A smile like that was not safe. It was sin with full lips.

He spoke. "You see, the type of. . .being I am. . .well, I cannot lie. I must answer you truthfully."

"How do I know that?"

"I cannot lie."

She studied him.

What sort of being cannot lie? And even more important. . .why is he telling me that?

Her mind spun.

Then she thought of something.

Test him.

She swallowed. "Were you following me tonight?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"Why?"

He smiled faintly. "Not a good question."

It must be yes or no questions that force him to be honest.

She let out a long breath and steadied herself. "Did you plan to kill me?"

"No."

"Did you want to. . .take me?"

He clenched his jaw, clearly not wanting to answer, but forced to do so anyway. "Yes."

She flinched. "Why?"

He exhaled like a man just freed from a snare. "Finally. A question I can dodge."

"Are you going to take me back to Korin?"

"That is a question that provides wiggle room for me to not know how to answer."

She narrowed her eyes. "Why are you telling me how to ask you questions?"

He said nothing.

She shook her head and thought of a better question. "Do you. . . want me to know your weaknesses?"

"Yes."

Why does he want me to know that? What could it be?

She thought for a little bit, and then asked, "Do you want me to trust you?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to be my friend?"

"I do not know."

"But you do not want to kill me?"

"I do not want to kill you."

"But you do want to take me?"

"Yes."

"Where?"

He smiled again. "Many places."

Her knees weakened.

This was not a man.

This was a riddle wrapped in heat, carved in hunger, and dressed like desire.

He raised his eyebrows. “When did your power begin?”

“Begin?”

“Yes.” He gestured to her hands. “When did the ice start sprouting.”

She pursed her lips.

“You’re not knowing what you are. . .your body must feel quite. . .good to release it.”

She parted her lips in embarrassment.

The man licked his lips. “Have you orgasmed from the release?”

“What? N-no.” She stepped back, fists clenched, ice coiling beneath her skin like smoke made of snow. Her body was shaking again—not from fear, but from heat and cold crashing .

Then, at his feet, something stirred.

Tiny ice blossoms, pale as moonlight, sprouted from the dusty road.

She shivered. “W-what is this?”

The man looked at them as they continued to grow. Petals shimmered in frost-touched spirals. Sharp-edged and lovely. They became clearer and finally she understood that they were not simply blooms, but ice roses, sculpted from magic.

He put his view back on her. “Very pretty. Have you done that before?”

“I didn’t mean to. . .” she whispered. “I don’t know how I did that.”

But he didn’t look surprised.

Not even a little.

Instead, his gaze dropped back on the ice roses with hunger.

While the ice bloomed from her, it was his heat that called it forward. And Sol was suddenly realizing that he knew which parts of her pulsed magic.

“I’ve dreamed of a moment like this but never did I think I would get it.” He raised his hand and moved it toward the ones near his feet.

Next, he crouched and extended two fingers.

She should’ve stopped him.

She didn’t.

He touched the nearest bloom.

It didn’t shatter.

It melted.

A dark groan left him. “Mmmm.”

Petal by petal, the roses dripped into the soil with a slow sensual hiss. Steam curled around his knuckles like breath.

And her body responded. A slow, traitorous heat bloomed in her core. She clamped her thighs together.

What is this?

Her nipples tightened against the fabric of her dress.

Oh no.

The rest of the roses melted with him, as if they obeyed the heat in his skin. And something inside her melted too—unseen, unbidden, and all too wet.

He looked up then, those golden eyes glowing with unspoken knowledge. His lips curved.

Not a smile.

A pure knowing.

“You have no idea what you are yet, do you? But you will soon. . .”