Page 4 of The Dragon King’s Claw (The Dragons of Serai #17)

“I agree.” His arm was slung over the back of the couch, making it a matter of simply adjusting the way his hand lay to touch me. He did just that. And it was no minor touch. He brushed my cheek with his fingertips.

What was happening? I stared at him, baffled.

Meanwhile, my mind spun through the possibilities, as I had trained it to do.

I knew several facts about Dragons—most people did, what with them ruling Serai.

They were, as a race, known for their arrogance (I had no problem with that), their aggression (again, no issues here), their possessiveness (that actually excited me but only in limited doses), and that they all had a destined mate that their goddess' magic would draw to them (therein lie the problem).

A destined mate sounds lovely. But I neither wanted to be a mate—bound to one man forever (even if that man were King Tor'rien) nor did I want to become involved with him only to have my place usurped by a mate.

A mate was a Dragon's priority. They came first. Period.

Everyone knew this. Still, I would feel humiliated to be put aside, even for a mate.

Because dating the King meant that the entire city would know about us.

If anything went wrong, anything at all, it would be my fault and I would look pathetic.

It would affect my job. Just thinking about the sympathetic looks I'd get at the Hall of Talons made me sick to my stomach.

And then there would be the citizens. Conducting interrogations would be annoying.

Personal relationships were hard enough for me.

I wasn't worried about someone breaking my heart.

I was too reasonable to buy into romantic notions of love.

Love is a way of making our base needs more civilized.

It's hard for people to admit that they cling to lovers because of the pleasure, not the person.

That would be crude. But if you're in love, you can get away with anything from public indecency to murder.

Yes, in my line of work, love is an excuse.

That belief tended to keep men from becoming romantic with me.

Which suited me just fine. But things would be different with a king.

He would demand devotion. He'd require intimacy.

And that intimacy could lead to me getting clingy.

I may not believe in love, but I was certain that sex combined with intimacy could form bonds between people.

Similar to the bonds formed between soldiers.

It was all about the mind, not the heart.

And such bonds could turn even the most rational man into a willing slave.

Or a murderous madman. That was not a risk I was willing to take.

I don't like risks. Taking risks leads to bad things.

I saw the evidence of that often enough in my work.

Most men would have leaned forward, eager for the Dragon King's kiss. Yet, there I was, leaning away.

King Tor'rien blinked as if coming out of a daze. Yes, that was flattering. But I couldn't let it influence me.

“How did you learn about the potential attack, Your Majesty?” I asked.

He cleared his throat and sat back. “I . . .” He cleared his throat again. “I have . . . people who keep watch. Or rather, listen for such things.”

“I assume you don't mean your Horns.”

“No.”

“Spies then.” It wasn't a question.

The Dragon King confirmed it anyway. “Yes, of a sort.”

“Ah. So, they spy on your people, not another kingdom.”

“You are sharp, Claw Shinkai.”

“As claws should be, Your Majesty. What did your spies discover?”

“Rumors of Dragons gathering in the city.”

“Dragons gathering?” I pondered this. “But now that you have achieved balance, thanks to the release of the Dragon God, you can gather in great numbers without risking an incident, correct?”

“Yes, and I welcome any of my people who wish to visit or even move to Kochan. But Dragons would not come here without visiting me first.”

“I see. And so you concluded they were forming a rebellion against you.”

“Yes.”

“So, you expected an attack, but not a murder.”

“Well, no, not a murder. Unless you count me.”

“Yes, but what I'm saying is that you couldn't have known to warn us.”

“No, and frankly, I don't think you could have prepared for this murder even if we had.”

I inclined my head. “Have you verified the rumors?”

“In what way?”

“Have you seen the Dragons, Your Majesty? Or has anyone you trust seen them?”

“Oh.” He paused. “No. No sightings.”

“So, the rumors are likely untrue. Very well, tell me, who did your spies hear these rumors from?”

“Who?” The Dragon King scowled. “I don't know. I assume the regular informants—tavern keepers, thieves, gossips.” He shrugged. “Does it matter?”

“Oh, yes. And even more so who they heard it from.

Because the source is likely connected to those who are perpetrating this lie.

They wanted you to focus on Dragons, and they set their trap early.

They've been planning this. This makes me even more certain that Dragons are not involved.” I shook my head.

“And the Chelli is just the start. There is a lot of misdirection to wade through.” I stood up.

“But I believe there is a reason why this has begun with the Chelli. Will you excuse me, Your Majesty?”

The King stood as well, bringing him too close again. “Where are you going?”

I backed up. “To see if we know the identity of the Chelli yet. Unless you have more information for me?”

“No, I brought you here to talk about the possible connection between this murder and the rumors I’ve heard.”

“I believe there is a connection but not in the way you thought. There's a lot more to this. You can count on me, Your Majesty. I will uncover the plot.”

King Tor'rien grinned. “I believe you will. And I will assist you.”

My whole body went slack with shock. “What? Why?”

“Because I wish to.”

“But, sire, you should stay here, where you're protected.”

“Do you know how many men I killed to become King— Dragon men?”

I swallowed past the sudden dryness in my throat as I simultaneously pushed down the insane excitement his words stirred.

What kind of man gets excited to hear about murder?

A claw certainly shouldn't. But then it wasn't murder that the King spoke of.

It was the Crown Tourney. The ultimate fight between Dragon men.

Their god had recently outlawed fights to the death in crown tourneys, but King Tor'rien had been on the throne for many years.

The thought of him in a fighting ring, facing off with another Dragon—several of them from his implication—made my sacs clench.

It was primal—a savage display of power that spoke to the blood-drinker in me.

Eljaffna weren't, as a whole, a violent race, but we were literally bloodthirsty.

We enjoyed watching others compete in brutal sports prone to bloodshed.

Couldn't be helped. It was almost sexual for us.

And the King worked that kink.

Did he know? Was this his way of flirting? If so, it was bizarre, to say the least. But also effective.

I realized he was waiting for an answer. “No, Your Majesty. I don't know how many you killed to win your crown. I assume it was a lot or you wouldn't be bringing it up.”

“Eighty-four,” he whispered as he leaned down, bringing our faces together. “Eighty-four Dragons lie in the ground because of me. And I'm not including the sixty-three who conceded. I am more than capable of protecting myself.”

“I'm sure you are, Your Majesty.” I met his stare and didn't retreat.

Enough of that shit. I had to show him I was an apex predator too, and he couldn't bully me with his sex appeal and masculinity.

So, I lifted my face, bringing our lips within kissing distance.

Just an inch and the act would be accomplished.

I'd learn the feel of those royal lips. Instead, I inhaled so that when I spoke, my breath stroked him.

“But your enemies are unscrupulous, cunning, and local.

You'd be handing yourself to them on a platter if you attend me on my investigations.”

The Dragon King sucked in my breath and let out a soft rumble. It sounded pleased and called to something wild inside me that I didn't know existed.

I didn't move. Held his stare. Did the blue of his irises just lighten? No, it was filaments. Sparkling filaments of pale blue within the sapphire. Marvelous.

“I think I'll take my chances, Claw Shinkai. And I think those chances are very good with my brawn and your brain.”

“You are hardly a thick-headed brawler, Your Majesty.”

“No, I'm not.” He grinned, flashing his Dragon fangs—thicker than mine, but no less appealing. “As I suspect you are not a physically deficient man. But your mind is elite, superior to mine, as my might is superior to yours. Together, we would be unstoppable.”

A shiver rushed over my skin. He sounded as if he were suggesting more than a mere tag-along. More than a partnership even.

I shifted my head, almost brushing our lips together as I turned away. “Suit yourself, Your Majesty. I cannot stop you. After all, you are the King.”

“That I am.” King Tor'rien chuckled as he followed me out of the office.