Page 3 of The Dragon King’s Claw (The Dragons of Serai #17)

Noting these details should have helped me focus on intellectual things.

It did not. Instead, my thoughts honed in on the Dragon King.

I still noticed details, but they were all about him.

The way his hair shone, reflecting the light.

How long it was. Longer than most female Eljaffna kept their hair.

My hair was blond and short—the opposite of his.

Frankly, taking care of long hair was too much effort for me.

There were other things I preferred to spend time on.

You'd think a Dragon would feel the same, but I suppose a king had people to take care of everything for him, even his hair.

This thought led to an image of the King sitting bare-chested before a mirror with a pretty man behind him, brushing his long locks.

The muscles around my eyes twitched, as if seeking another chance at remaining aloof and seeing only relevant details. Let's try this again.

The skin around His Majesty’s lips was tight.

He had his hands clenched into fists atop his desk.

His shoulders straight but tense. Then, as I watched, the hard line of his lips softened, and that release spread over him.

Muscles went loose, his shoulders lowered, and his fists opened. And then he stood up.

A part of me stood with him.

Oh, dear Gods. That damn hair was even longer than I'd thought.

Nearly to his hips. His body exuded power, but not in a royal way.

More like an apex predator that had clawed his way to the top of the food chain.

He knew he could kill anything that came at him.

It wasn't arrogance; it was a fact. And yet, that expression spoke of another type of battle.

Still physical but not furious. Something more intimate.

More complicated. His eyes were so blue, so intensely blue, that they were almost purple.

And they had a look in them that I knew well.

This was unexpected. There went that thrill again.

The Dragon King breathed in deeply and prowled over to me.

I was a tall man at six-foot-five, but he towered over me.

His scent preceded him—a musky, citrus aroma with a hint of vanilla.

It made me close my eyes for a moment and mimic him.

When I opened my eyes, he was right before me, lips parted and stare focused.

On me. It felt as if his entire being were focused on me.

Was this how he greeted all of his guests?

It would be a great tactic to disarm them.

That deep blue stare lowered and then lifted. “You're Claw Shinkai?”

Fuck. Of course, his voice was like a warm drink on a cold night. Something sweet but spiked with liquor.

“I am, Your Majesty.” Thank the Gods, I could still sound normal—no hint of a tremor in my voice. “I have just concluded my initial inspection of the crime scene. One of your sergeants escorted me here. He said you wished to speak with me.”

King Tor'rien made a rumbling, sexy sound, his eyes dropping to my lips as he swayed toward me.

I blinked, wondering if the King was about to kiss me. It was unimaginable. And what was even more shocking was how much I hoped he would. Within seconds of meeting him.

That was not good. Not at all professional.

So, I cleared my throat.

The Dragon King blinked rapidly and straightened. “Please, sit down, Claw Shinkai.” He spun about and waved at a seating area before a fireplace.

I went to the couch and sat down, my legs giving out at the last second.

I may have kept the trembling from my voice but it was everywhere else.

I had to focus on other things. The fireplace.

Yes. The logs were unlit. It was summer in Rushao and the days were warm.

Still, when the King sat beside me, it felt as if a fire raged before me, smothering me in heat. There went focusing on other things.

“I hear that you're the most brilliant claw on the force.” The King angled toward me.

Out of respect, I did the same, shifting to face him. It had nothing to do with a need to look upon him. “You've heard correctly.”

A blink. Then he burst into laughter.

I gaped at him. Stern, the man was the most gorgeous specimen of Dragonhood that I'd ever seen. But laughing? He suddenly dropped the mantle of royalty, Dragonhood, and aloofness to become a normal man. Stunning, but touchable. Very touchable. And it made him even more attractive.

He settled into a smile. “You are not modest.”

“I am not a liar, not for modesty's sake or any other.

The fact is that I have a quick mind, and I see things that others don't. I have advanced rapidly in my profession because of this.

You were told that I'm the most brilliant claw because it's the truth, Your Majesty. Now, I am about to continue being honest with you.”

“That sounds like a warning.” He narrowed his eyes.

“It's a plea for your patience.” I held up a hand. “I do not sweeten my words or twist them to suit an audience. Frankly, I never learned the art.”

He chuckled, this time softly. “No? I'm shocked.”

I lifted a brow.

“It seems you've never learned to recognize a joke either.”

“I believe that was sarcasm, not a joke, Your Majesty. And as it was tinged with derision, I did not find it amusing.”

The Dragon King's eyes went wide. He made a few shocked, almost-laughs, then frowned. “I suppose it was tinged with derision. Although, I didn't mean for it to be insulting. I apologize.”

Another surprise. They just kept coming.

“Thank you. That was very gracious of you.”

“Good. You think I'm gracious. Perhaps now you can proceed with whatever you were about to say.”

“Ah, yes. Well, here it is, sire. You knew about this murder before it happened.

Maybe not precisely who, when, and where, but you knew something like this was coming.

Now, I'd like to serve the crown as best I can.

To do that, I need to know what you know.

Perhaps you could start by telling me why you didn't notify the Talons of this possibility?”

As I spoke, the King drew back. He became more and more stern, shut off, slipping into the visage of the man I first encountered. Even after I finished speaking, he continued to slide into that mask.

“Sire?” I prompted.

The Dragon King flinched and then straightened. “Very well. Yes. Yes, I suspected something like this might happen. But I couldn't warn the Talons. I had nothing specific. Nothing that could have prevented the murder.”

“You believed the attack would come here. Against you directly.”

His brows lifted. “Yes.”

“Perhaps you were too good at protecting yourself.”

“Excuse me?”

I held up a finger as things coalesced in my mind. “A moment, please.”

The Dragon King looked as if he couldn't decide whether to laugh or strangle me as he laughed.

Talking about the murder helped me to control my attraction to him.

With that fire banked, I could focus on the reason I was there.

The Chelli. That man had been burned to death.

Possibly tortured before that. Something a Dragon could have done.

And then there was this threat against the King.

Who besides a Dragon would think they could kill a Dragon King?

But that was too simple. Too obvious. Dragon fire would have incinerated the Chelli, leaving nothing behind.

Ash at the most. A Dragon had most decidedly not done this.

Unless a Dragon had been holding back, controlling his fire to leave remains behind.

As a threat. Possible, but not enough to determine that the murderer was a Dragon.

Fire limited the options though. Out of all the races that inhabited the Kingdom of Rushao, no other possessed Fire Magic of that amplitude.

That being said, just because a race wasn't known for something, it didn't mean they couldn't do it.

The Eljaffna had an ability that we had kept quiet from the dawn of our existence.

Well, maybe not that far back. Something must have compelled us into silence, but as far back as recorded history went, our talent to control those we take blood from has remained a secret.

Without our secrecy, we'd have no willing donors.

It was about survival more than anything else.

So, could there be another race with such a secret?

Absolutely. Did I think that was the situation here?

No. There are other methods of burning a man to bones.

Magic could be bought or even constructed if you had the talent.

Or the murderer could be from another kingdom.

I wasn't familiar with all the races of Serai. Perhaps one of them could do this.

“Hmm.” I refocused on the King. “You are worried that the murderer is a Dragon.”

“Yes,” he whispered. “How did you know that?”

“Someone burned a man to death.” I shrugged. “I do not believe it was a Dragon.”

“How can you be so certain?”

“I am not certain. I said that I didn't believe it was a Dragon. It is unlikely because of the remains, Your Majesty. The murderer burned everything but the bones, leaving a full skeleton that I used to identify the victim as male and Chelli.”

The King exhaled and sat back. “Of course. A Dragon would have left only ashes.”

“Yes. Probably.”

“Probably?”

“Do you think a Dragon could control their fire enough to leave bones behind?”

The King considered this. “That would be difficult. The most talented Dragons can focus their magic but that would pinpoint the flames, not control the intensity. Is it possible?” He shrugged. “Anything is possible on Serai. But have I heard of a Dragon who could manage it? No.”

“I appreciate the way you explored the possibilities. We can't eliminate Dragons, but I think it's safe to say that it is most likely someone impersonating a Dragon.”