Page 45 of The Forbidden Dragon King (Shadow Kings #1)

“This is how Tarquin’s deathday should be celebrated. Shall we have some fun now?” Maximinus declares.

The other guests call out agreement, but it’s muted and fearful.

Maximinus holds up his own empty goblet, waggling it at me. “Pet, stop slacking. Refill this.”

I move to lean over to reach Maximinus, but Aurelius clamps his hand around my thigh, holding me back.

“She’s my personal pet.” Aurelius’ words are slurred. When he looks up at me, his gaze is heated. It makes my stomach flip that he’s claiming me like this in public but also, frightens me what he may let slip. “Get your own.”

Maximinus’ eyes flash, before he appears to calm himself. “Excellent idea. Mine is both better trained and more beautifully dressed for the occasion. Your brother, who is looking down at us from the heavens, will be honored by my offering this deathday.”

What…?

Maximinus flicks his wrist and the doors magically swing open.

Anticipation races through me.

Everybody turns to look at the courtesan who is gliding into the hall.

Daire’s eyes are icy.

He looks elegant, aloof, untouchable .

It would seem an impossible trick to pull off, when he is wrapped in thin satins and silks that whisper across his skin.

My hold loosens on the pitcher in shock and desire. Wine drips out over my hands like blood, but I barely notice.

I can’t tear my gaze away from Daire, and nor can anybody else.

Is that truly Daire?

The outfit is shimmering white. It should be plain but on Daire, the simplicity is a revelation. The white silk clings tantalizingly to every plane of his athletic body, revealing his translucent thighs through deep slits on each slinky step.

The outfit falls off his shoulders, putting the scars that wind up his arms like ivy on display.

The moonlight glints on his curls, which have been artfully piled on the top of his head with silver raven feathers woven through them.

Gossamer iron chains, too thin to be more than decoration but yet that still must sting, have been hung on his wings. Their symbolic statement about Daire’s prisoner status makes me certain that Maximinus had this costume designed.

Maximinus looks smug, as if he’s expecting derision and laughter from the gathered nobles at this captured king who has been forced to play at courtesan.

Satisfaction and pride surges through me, however, that no one laughs, as Daire pads over the marble with an icy expression.

There is nothing but a mesmerized silence .

Daire has enraptured everyone here. He’s weaponized his seduction and the moment of his humiliation.

On this battlefield, he’s the fucking winner.

I stroke over my bond mark, hoping that Daire can feel my respect and savage joy.

I’m certain that Daire can, when his gaze meets mine, holding it for a long moment,

“Kitten,” Aurelius sighs, softly.

Daire’s surprised eyes widen, before he scrutinizes the way that Aurelius is slumped on the couch and his unfocused gaze with suspicion.

“Drunk,” I mouth.

Daire looks more wary, stopping in front of the couches.

“What are you waiting for?” Maximinus smiles, nastily. “Entertain us, pet.”

I expect Daire to either act defiant and sass like he normally does or else, smile and turn on his charm.

Instead, he does neither.

He stands, a conquered king amongst his enemies, remaining as icy as before. He looks at me, as if I’m the only one who he truly sees.

Then he starts to sing, quietly at first and then building in strength.

My skin goosebumps.

The hall is eerily quiet.

Even the Beta servants have stopped working and are standing, spellbound.

I have read that fae have voices only rivaled by the ancient Shadow Elves in beauty. Voices so beautiful that if other races listen too long, then they may be driven mad.

I believe it now.

The song is like rainfall.

It’s pretty but mournful in an ancient fae tongue that sounds as old as rune magic.

No one here needs to be bonded to Daire to feel his pain because they can hear it in every note that he sings.

I’m crying. My cheeks are wet. I can’t break the spell by even wiping away my tears.

I’ve glimpsed inside Daire’s memories: His agonizing loss and despair. The dragons think that he grieves for his loss of power or freedom. Yet I know that the howl hidden inside this song is for the souls of every fallen fae, his family and friends.

It’s for the fall of an entire kingdom.

Then slowly, the final notes of his song die off.

Daire tips back his head, and the moonlight that pours through the windows licks down the line of his long throat.

Then he starts to dance.

I gasp.

Aurelius leans forward on his elbows, gaze avidly fixed on Daire.

Daire spins breathtakingly fast. His outfit twirls out at the waist. Ragged shadows flutter around him. His wings snap above his head, as if he’s singed blossom tossed on the uncaring wind.

“Daire.” Aurelius holds his hand out toward the king who has been forced to dance in front of him .

At the sound of his true name for the first time on Aurelius’ lips within the walls of the Shadow Court, Daire throws himself elegantly to his knees in front of Aurelius.

It doesn’t look like submission but a victory.

Lucius leads the clapping, looking delighted.

Yet Maximinus’ expression becomes thunderous.

“Prostrate yourself properly before the king, whore,” Maximinus hisses.

The applause hurriedly peters out.

When Daire slides to fully bow before Aurelius, I can see his spine through the thinness of the silk costume.

I wipe furiously at my wet cheeks.

Aurelius’ eyes clear for a moment, before he growls, “Who ordered an Alpha King to play at courtesan on my brother’s deathday?”

Daire rises to stand. “Can’t I pretend to play it myself, Your Majesty?”

“You appeared to be enjoying it a moment ago.” Maximinus arches his brow. “Would you like him to be sent to your chambers later? You can enjoy his other talents in a more private setting.”

Daire’s jaw clenches, but he doesn’t say anything.

“If anyone touches the fae without his consent,” Aurelius snarls, “I will cut off their bollocks with Hadrian’s Dagger and make sure that they see them crushed in my hand, before they fully turn to ash.”

Maybe Aurelius is warming up to Daire.

“And what about your other pretty pet? It’s been too long since I had a nondragon sucking my cock.” Quintus grabs for my arm, and I yelp in pain .

Aurelius roars, jumping to his feet. He’s slowed by drink, however, and it’s Daire who grabs Quintus’ wrist hard enough that I hear the bones creak.

Quintus lets go of me, and I stagger back into Aurelius’ arms.

“You savage beast.” Quintus points a shaky finger at Daire. Light glints off his large, silver signet ring. “How dare a lowly pet attack a noble dragon? I will see you broken for this.”

“As much as that sounds like fun,” Daire drawls, “we can have more fun in other ways. Let me make it up to you.”

To my shock, Daire sprawls on the Alpha’s lap. His eyes are half-hooded. He takes Quintus’ bruised wrist in his hand and gently raises it to his lips, before kissing it, as if in apology.

Aurelius watches him, confused. “You don’t need to do that.”

“Let the pet alone.” Maximinus waves his hand, dismissively. “It’s what he’s trained for.”

I narrow my eyes at Daire, especially as he looks over Quintus’ shoulder at me and then winks.

Daire has more hidden plans than I can ever hope to guess.

Aurelius notices me rubbing my sore elbow, where Quintus grabbed me. “Do you need a healer?”

I shake my head, squirming out of his hold.

“Quintus Sempronia,” Aurelius says, focusing to get the words out through the fog of wine, “do not hurt either of my pets. I’m possessive. I burn people who hurt those I…those who belong to me. Have I made that clear?”

The silence in the hall is deafening after his declaration.

Dangerous.

Is this what Maximinus wanted?

Quintus pales. “It’s clear, but to be equally clear, this silver haired sweetheart climbed into my lap and started rubbing over me like an Omega in heat and not the other way around.”

Alphahole.

“What happened to him being a savage beast ?” Aurelius’ eyes are hard.

“Everybody warms up to me once they get to know me.” Daire loops his arms around Quintus’ neck. “Don’t you agree, boss?”

Aurelius narrows his eyes, his gaze cooling.

“Enough.” Maximinus stands up sharply, grabbing Aurelius by his muscled bicep.

He drags Aurelius stumbling after him toward the front of the hall.

Aurelius is unsteady. He doesn’t look like he’d have been able to walk without his uncle’s hold on him, which Maximinus attempts to make look supportive, rather than controlling.

Immediately, Lucius stands up, attempting to join them.

Maximinus fixes Lucius with a quelling glare. “Sit. Down. Omega.”

Reluctantly, Lucius perches on the edge of the couch again. His eye has already swollen shut, beginning to bruise. Blood is still slowly seeping from the wound on his cheek.

On the moon, what am I supposed to do?

I’m outranked by everyone here with the possible exception of Daire, and after the performance that he’s just put on, I have the feeling that he’s won himself enough admirers from within the court that his pet status is now higher than mine.

Daire has a talent for turning losses into victories. But then, like me, he’s had a lot of practice.

When I make to follow Aurelius, Daire shakes his head at me.

Dread lies heavy as a stone in my stomach.

I try not to watch out of the corner of my eye, as Quintus gropes Daire’s chest, wrinkling his silky costume, as if the fae is a horse at market that he’s testing, before deciding to buy and ride it.

Daire is sitting calm and unmoving like he’s not being touched at all. His gaze is distant. He isn’t smiling but leans in to murmur something to Quintus that I can’t hear.

Then Quintus is smiling.

It sets my teeth on edge.

How is Daire managing to make the ugliness of this evening beautiful?