Page 62 of The Forbidden Dragon King (Shadow Kings #1)

Delighted, Freya lets go of my hand to rush toward Daire, examining the masks along with Daire. “You were amongst the shadow villains…?”

“I am one of this kingdom’s enemies.” He tilts up his chin, casting me a proud look. “Aurelius’ nemesis.”

I choke on a laugh. “Who loves stuffing his face with sweet cakes.”

“Even villains need to eat.”

Freya rushes between the masks, stroking over one that even has attached raven wings. “This is you too.”

Daire puffs out his chest; the rogue is enjoying his notoriety. “I am the Raven King.”

“More like the Bandit King,” I mutter.

“That too.”

I wander to the heroes, staring in amazement at the golden masks.

They’re clearly of me.

It makes me feel strange to see myself reflected back: stern, cold, and regal.

Is this how the citizens of my kingdom see me, rather than as a wicked beast?

Suddenly, however, Freya’s breath catches. She’s staring at a beautiful mask with painted on red-wine eyes and long black hair, which is otherwise wreathed in shadows.

“Lanlin,” I whisper.

Freya backs up, hitting my chest. I wrap my arms around her. Yet she’s not trembling. She’s flushed. She’s staring too long at the mask, as if she’s desperate to reach out and touch it .

I turn her sharply away to face me instead. “It’s only a mask. It’s not real.”

She nods. Seems to want to say more. But doesn’t.

I relax.

“People all around the carnival will be wearing your faces.” Freya bites her lip, looking up at me through her eyelashes. “Fucking weird. Be careful that I don’t go home with one of them.”

“Don’t even think about it,” I snarl.

Daire’s eyes light up, however, before he passes me the mask of himself, while fixing the golden one of me over his own face.

His bow lips remain revealed mockingly underneath.

“How about tonight you play the villain, and I get to be the Shadow Dragon King? Will you call me boss ?” He slinks closer, and I stiffen, clutching his mask tightly in my hand.

He seductively whispers, “Kneel for me?”

“In your dreams.”

“You’re lucky that you don’t know what my dreams are.”

I can guess, at least, if he has the same nightmares as I do about the battles we’ve fought against each other.

There is a strange beauty to him in my mask, as he leans closer.

Mesmerized, I reach to touch the wooden face that is my face and yet isn’t.

“I should make you always wear this, my Masked Fae. You could stand strong at my side in court as a masked adviser. A Shadow King, like me but not me. A symbol of my power. It would intimidate the other Council members. And this…” I tap the mask.

“…would be a constant reminder that you serve me.”

“A fae never breaks a deal.” Daire’s eyes are piercing. “I’ll forever serve you.”

“But they are good at looking for loopholes.”

“You’re learning. Also, possessive.”

Freya reaches to grip my chin. She kisses me, unexpected and breathtaking.

When she draws back, I clutch my arms around her and allow myself to feel the joy of having my Omega in my arms after weeks of desperate yearning, weeks of near feral desperation.

My rut is almost here. It burns beneath my skin.

“I love you.” I kiss her temple. “I love you, my Omega.”

Freya’s pheromones settle around me, a balm to my own.

She takes my hand that is holding the mask of the Shadow Fae King who I conquered, destroyed, and dragged back in shackles as a pet. Then she pushes the mask up to my own face.

She kisses me again. “I love you too.”

I stare through the eyes of my mask at Daire, who is wearing my skin.

I shiver.

All of a sudden, the “The Night of the Shadows” music breaks out. Another tradition at the height of the carnival that I have only been able to watch from the windows of the palace every previous year.

Pipes, drums, and rattles rise in stirring music, while singers chant in a fevered pitch that leads the crowd to start to dance as one.

Freya and Daire both laugh and grab my hand.

I shake my head.

I don’t dance like this. It’s tempting the darkness inside me. My emotions are overspilling. I’m becoming fevered as well.

Sweat drips into my eyes.

But I’m Daire now. A fae.

Tonight, I’m going to feel .

Feel and dance and fucking celebrate with my people.

“Come on.” Freya snatches Daire by the hand.

Then united, the three of us dance to the music.

It’s seeping into my bones and blood. I’m caught in its hold, Freya’s hazel eyes, and Daire’s firm wings.

Freya’s pheromones and scent become stronger.

I need to taste her.

I tip back my head, smiling.

So, this is freedom.

This is feeling

This is happiness.

I laugh then as well, rumbling and unrestrained.

I laugh like I truly am a fae dancing beneath the open skies.

My shadows coil out, joining the shadows that are winding out of every other dancing dragon in this Carnival of Shadows.

My brother and Maximinus couldn’t have been more wrong. Sensing the shadow souls of the people in my capital, being connected to thousands of them in this festival, as our shadows dance and twine as I do, doesn’t unleash my darkness.

It unleashes only my joy.

Unexpectedly, a scream cuts through the music. Then another scream, louder and closer.

The chanting falters.

The waves of shadows draw back into the dancers, as people stumble and look around themselves in panic.

Daire stares at me through his mask. “Is this part of the entertainment? What the bloody hell is going on?”

“I don’t know.” Adrenaline surges through me. I drop my hand to the hilt of my dagger at my waist. I glance at Freya. “Stay close.”

I scan through the crowds.

War and Lucius are shoving their way toward us as fast as they can.

Vicious and Wraith are already leaning on the wall to the alleyway close by.

What on the Shadow Gods is happening?

“Fucking Bloods,” War bellows above the frantic chatter of the crowds. “The fuckers are attacking.”