Page 11 of The Dragon King’s Claw (The Dragons of Serai #17)

The Dragon King wanted to hear me scream his name.

Even after all I had said to him. I would like to say that the day had gotten more and more interesting as it proceeded, and it had, but this latest development was less fascinating and more frightening for me.

When he looked at me, King Tor'rien saw a glorious conquest—glorious only because of my repeated rejections.

He had decided that he wanted me. That was it for him.

As the King, he got what he wanted most of the time.

Oh, what am I saying? He always got what he wanted.

I challenged that law—the one law I wouldn't uphold—and this intrigued him as much as this latest murder intrigued me.

It was nothing more than that. I wouldn't delude myself into being flattered.

That being said, I now saw more than risk when I looked at King Tor'rien.

I saw potential enslavement by a lover who would smirk, pat me on the head, and tell me I was free the whole time.

The Dragon King couldn't see how he was abusing his power.

He thought I was one of those men who feigned reluctance to increase desire.

Either that or he didn't care that I didn't want this.

Granted, the King said he wouldn't push me into anything intimate without my consent.

That did a lot toward putting me at ease.

I believed him. I didn't think he wanted to rape anyone, even if it were through pressured consent.

It wouldn't surprise me if he didn't see his arrogant interference as anything but a determined pursuit.

But if I couldn't refuse to be in his presence, that took away my choice.

To me, that was an abuse of power. That being said, King Tor'rien had a reputation for kindness, generosity, and fairness.

He could have been abusing his power in far worse ways than forcing me to have lunch with him.

Yes, maybe I was overreacting. Maybe, when it came down to it, he would accept my refusal and walk away. It wasn't as if he didn't have other options.

To his credit, the King didn't touch me or even flirt with me during our meal.

After making his bold, stimulating statement, he went quiet.

But the silence felt like the sort observed by predators on the hunt.

He may not have been speaking or touching me, but he was watching. Closely. Waiting for the kill.

Normally, I could ignore such things. But the Dragon King had gotten under my shell.

Yes, I was like a turtle, all tucked in, with a jungle cat batting me about.

And this cat had slipped his claw into a weak spot.

I was feeling things I didn't want to feel.

Especially when I was working. These things would require attention soon.

The hunted would have to become the hunter.

By the time the main course arrived, I was getting nervous.

The silence—which I would have treasured earlier—felt oppressive and yet empty.

It needed to be filled. Oh, damn. That thought led to another—how I needed the same thing.

Later. If not that night, then the night after, I would find someone to fill me while I held the image of the Dragon King in my mind.

It should satisfy the base needs of my body and strengthen my resilience against his advances.

The King had played a brilliant game, sliding through my calm and past my protests with his viciously sexy words that turned my body against me.

I knew it was all a part of his plan, and that it was only passion, so I could move past it.

I just needed to give my body what it wanted—in a manner that wouldn't risk my freedom. Thus, I'd need a stand-in Dragon King.

Until then, I needed words!

“I'd like for you to wait outside when I investigate the jewelry shop,” I said.

The King's smug expression—the one he'd been wearing ever since his declaration—slipped. “No.”

“Are you trained on crime scene etiquette?”

“What does that mean?”

“That you need to ask is enough of an answer. You are not trained. So, you do not know how to walk through an environment without disturbing evidence.”

“I may be large, but that doesn't mean that I go around knocking into things.”

“That's not what I'm implying. You don't know how to look for things that don't belong in certain environments. Not knowing means you may disturb evidence before I can collect it. I need you to wait outside until I'm done.”

“I will stay near the door and observe until you finish your inspection. That is the only compromise I will make.”

“Fine.” I stabbed my food with my fork and filled my mouth before I said something that would get me executed.

But I'd broken the silence. He took it as permission to proceed.

“Where are you from, Tek? Were you raised in this city?”

My face twitched. “Please, don't call me that.”

“Why not?”

“It is overly familiar, for one. And it sounds like I'm a clock for another. Tek, tek, tek.” I made a face. “You've reduced me to a sound.”

The King chuckled. “You are so rigid. Were you like this as a child?”

“I don't think of myself as such, and I can't remember being any other way. I am who I am.”

He snorted. “That's a yes. You need to loosen up. Perhaps we should go on an adventure after you investigate the shop.”

“My life is full of adventures, thank you all the same.”

“Not the sort I'd give you.”

Another thrill coursed through me. Damn him. He was good. He could have made a fortune as a sex worker. Or a blood worker.

Oh, fuck me! That got me thinking about taking his blood.

It would be delicious. Like a fine wine.

I'd heard Dragon blood was unlike any other.

It had nuances and zings of magic that could make an Eljaffna feel as if they'd departed this world and gone to live among the Gods.

Looking at King Tor'rien, I knew the rumors were true.

He'd be incredible. In every way. But, like anything worthwhile, there would be a cost associated with having him.

And I couldn't afford it. Not even for an endless tap of Dragon blood.

I almost groaned. To taste him . . . no!

I couldn't think about this any further.

It would make me wild. Insane. I'd give in to any of his demands for just a sip.

He could control me without the mating magic.

Without even asserting his dominance as my king.

Blood. That was the weakness of all Eljaffna, and I couldn't escape my race.

All I could do was stay away from the most addicting blood in the kingdom.

Just don't drink from him, Tekhan. Simple.

All of this internal strife stayed hidden under my cool exterior.

Could he truly smell my interest? Probably.

I'd heard that Dragon senses were even sharper than an Eljaffna's.

But the King would never hear me confirm what he sensed.

Until he did, he wouldn't know exactly what had turned me on. Only that I was aroused.

“No offense, Your Majesty, but I'm not interested in the kind of adventures you're offering.”

The King looked down as he softly laughed and shook his head. “I don't think anyone has ever rejected me so eloquently or repeatedly in all my life.” He looked up, his blue eyes still laughing. “I don't know why I find it amusing.”

“Because it stimulates your predator.”

His eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

“Your hunting instincts. You want what you can't have. It's a technique employed by many courtiers. Maybe not with you, but it is common. I, however, am not flirting. I am being honest with you.”

“You think I can't have you? That's adorable.”

This time, the shiver that ran through me was cold. My face twitched, the reaction uncontrollable, and my stomach clenched. It was all I could do to remain seated and not go running out of the restaurant.

“Fuck,” the King muttered and leaned forward, his broad hand going flat on the table. “Do not fear me. That wasn't a threat. Great Ensarena, do you really think I'd force you into my bed?”

I let out a soft breath and bid my body to relax. My tone was supposed to be carefree, but it sounded strained. “Of course not. There are no rumors of you mistreating people in such a manner.”

“Listen to you.” He rubbed a hand over his face.

“And you were doing so well with your irreverence.

I admired it nearly as much as it annoyed me.

You are so aloof. As if you're wearing armor.

I just wanted to slip past it. Reach you.

And I finally succeeded. But you're so sensitive beneath all of that.” He waved at me.

“One touch, meant to tease, and I've wounded you.” He paused to curse.

“You are a frustrating man, Tekhan. And you have some mistaken ideas about me that we need to address.

First, I am not, nor have I ever been, a man to wield my power over my lovers.

If you don't want to be mine, you won't. Frankly, I don't want a man who doesn't want me. The thought sours my stomach.”

I took another breath and relaxed. “I'm glad to hear it. As I'm glad to hear that you value my candor. So, let me return to my irreverent honesty. If you didn't mean by force, what were you implying just now?”

“When I called you adorable for thinking I couldn't have you?”

“Yes, of course.”

The King leaned further across the table and held my stare. “Tell me you don't want me. Go ahead. Let's see how good a liar you are.”

“We've already established that my desire for you is not the problem. I have admitted that I find you arousing.”

He nodded. “Exactly. That's what I meant when I said I can have you. You want me, so I can make you mine. I merely need to get past your reservations, and I'm confident that I can.”

I rolled my eyes. “You said I have mistaken ideas about you. What else have I gotten wrong? Please, enlighten me.”

“You think I would take your freedom. I wouldn't want that.”

“You wouldn't have a choice. It's the magic that would shackle me.”

“This is the misconception I speak of. Dragon mating magic only restricts Dragons .”

“What?” I whispered.

“Oh, look at that. Something you didn't know. How exciting.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The magic binds a Dragon to its mate. The binding process for males includes a release of our essence. This essence—”

“One moment, if you please.” I held up my hand.

The King cocked his head, his long hair sliding over one muscular shoulder. “What do you not understand?”

“Essence. What is that?”

“I was getting to that. A Dragon's essence is a part of them. Their true selves. When I find my mate and claim him, my soul will release a portion of itself and create a magical essence that is released through climax.”

“Are you talking about ejaculate?”

“It is an ejaculate in as much as it is ejaculated, but it is not cum. It is essence. I will coat my mate, and the essence will sink into him, binding my soul to his. It will give him a piece of me, do you understand? Not the other way around.”

My teeth clicked as I closed my jaw. “You have to come all over your mate and it's going to sink into him and bond your soul to his? How is that not restrictive to your mate?”

“If my mate is a Dragon, he will claim me in the same manner, and we would be doubly bound. If he is not a Dragon, he cannot claim me. In other words, he will not gift me a portion of his soul.”

“That seems unfair.”

The King shrugged. “I won't hold it against you. I mean, if you're my mate.”

I grimaced. “How kind of you.”

“I'm trying to alleviate your fears, Tekhan. If you were my mate, your soul would own a piece of mine forever, but the opposite wouldn't be true. You would not be bound in the same manner. Yes, you would feel things and sense things about me, but, unlike me, you could deny those feelings.”

“And if I did deny them? If I ended the relationship?”

The skin around the King's eyes twitched. “I would die.”

I snorted. “And you say I wouldn't be bound.”

He huffed out a breath. “This is ridiculous. We don't know what the future holds. But I can promise you that you will have your freedom.”

“I don't believe you can, Your Majesty. All your pretty words, meant to reassure me, have only convinced me further that you are not worth the risk.”

The King went still. Then his jaw clenched.

“Ah, I see I have stopped being amusing and have become insulting. My apologies. I meant to convey that I value myself more than anyone else, as every person should. We all have our priorities. A lover is lower on my list than my work.”

It took a few moments—long moments—for the King's jaw to unclench. But then his expression went sober. “I find that depressing.”

“Of course, you do.”

“What does that mean?”

“Your priorities are different from mine.

I could say that I find it pathetic that people value love or pleasure over work.

Both are fleeting, while I find lasting satisfaction in solving crimes.

Yet, most say the reverse about me—that I'm pathetic for valuing a career more than love. Who is wrong? Neither of us. We are both right, but only where we are concerned. You see? It is all about perspective.”

“So many things are,” he murmured.

“Indeed, Your Majesty.”