Page 9 of The Forbidden Dragon King (Shadow Kings #1)

He fiddles with a heavy golden ring on his finger in a gesture that looks habitual. The ring matches the bracelet. It’s shaped like a dragon in flight. It’s clearly antique.

Who gave these to him? He’s breaking up his heirlooms for me.

If I could get both from him, then I could sell them together rather than melting them down and make even more money.

Aurelius shrugs. “Fated mates are precious. Omegas should be treasured. And broken bonds are a disgrace. Any man lucky enough to be able to match should have their knot hacked off if they reject their bond.”

Better watch out, Bard.

Aurelius may be my enemy, but I can like him for that sentiment at least. But why be able to bond ? Can’t Aurelius? Is it because he’s too busy with this brutal war of his?

I narrow my eyes at him again. “You saved me…? ”

I mean it to be a statement, but it comes out as more of a question.

“Most people would say thank you,” Aurelius replies, haughtily.

“Most people would want to know why,” I retort.

He arches a perfect golden eyebrow. “Isn’t a king allowed to do a good deed? Is my reputation so bad that I am no longer trusted to protect my subjects?”

Stubbornly, I don’t reply.

His eyes spark.

He leans closer, and my gaze drops to his plush lips, as his scent of leather and smoke winds around me.

He notices the direction of my gaze, and his lips curl up at the side.

“You were clearly attempting to flee your kingdom. Injured, you’d reached the border without shifting, which implies to me that you can’t .

Isn’t it you wolves’ cruel ritual in the Mate Hunt to slaughter non-shifters?

Don’t you let dragon royalty protect those Omegas? ”

He looks at me, expectantly.

I stare back. It makes sense. Somehow, there’s something lurking in his eyes, which makes me not believe him.

He’s hiding something, a secret.

The tension builds, until I’m choking on it.

Aurelius leans even closer, until I can see the tawny flecks in his amber eyes.

“Nothing to say, Little Spark? It’s refreshing to meet someone who isn’t groveling at my feet and telling me what I want to hear.

I could burn anyone to ash. I could kill you.

But I choose not. It’s my right as King. I’m protecting you. ”

My chest is tight with fear. “I’ve lived in the shadow of death, haunted by its ghosts my entire life. I’ve just had my bond broken. I’m not in the groveling mood, even if you burn me.”

To my surprise, Aurelius chuckles, deep and rumbling. “You’re fucking perfect.”

I force myself to ask, “Where am I?”

Finally, Aurelius sits back, brushing his hair away from his face, and I can start to breathe again.

He appears to notice my fear (he must be able to smell it in the sourness of my scent). He sends out soothing pheromones, which calm me more than I am expecting they could.

Why is he bothering? Why did he save and heal me?

“This is my tent in the middle of the Draca military camp. We’re on the borders of the Unseelie Kingdom.

I can’t tell you precisely where, since I’m in the middle of a campaign.

” His gaze hardens. I can see now how he’s the warrior who leads an army that dominates the world.

I quail. “Who drew the fae runes on your dress?”

He snatches up my scarlet dress, shaking it like evidence at a trial.

Shit, this is bad.

Maybe he’s only saved me in order to interrogate me as a fae loving spy.

Admittedly, wearing a dress that’s covered with ancient rune magic, which is forbidden in lands under the control of King Aurelius, does look bad.

“I can explain,” I start because usually I’m good at talking myself out of trouble and I’ve had a lot of practice, “ I stole (borrowed because can you truly steal knowledge?), from Prince Bard’s banned book. No Omega has access to that knowledge.”

Aurelius’ gaze has become even frostier. “And why would you borrow illegal fae magic?”

“To not have my throat torn out in the Mate Hunt. I’m quite fond of my throat and actually, the rest of me too. It’s only a protection spell to hide my scent and stop me from being caught by an Alpha.”

Aurelius’ eyes sparkle with suppressed mirth. “And how did that work out for you?”

“Shit, thanks for asking.”

“So, King Ulf’s son is the traitor who possesses illegal books. That is useful information.”

“He’s also the asshole who broke the bond with me.”

Aurelius goes unnaturally still.

“Is he, now?” His voice is calm but somehow manages to sound twice as murderous.

It’s thrilling.

No one has sounded like that on my behalf before.

Is it fair of me to take revenge on Bard like this?

I don’t know, but as the old saying goes, break an Omega’s bond, and an Omega will break your knot.

When have old sayings ever led anyone astray, right?

I nod.

“Hmm.” Aurelius looks coldly calculating. I shiver. “So, the wolves are trading with my enemies the fae, possibly more. Tell me, are you also secretly friends with the vampires? ”

Aurelius’ gaze sharpens like he’s suddenly considering devouring me or at least, throwing me out of the nest.

I suck in my breath. “Woah, what’s this about vampires? I hate Bloods. They murdered my parents. How can you ask that, when they slaughtered the entire Moon Court just a generation ago? I grew up as an orphan because of those monsters.”

Aurelius’ stiff shoulders relax slightly, which looks like it hurts him with how perfect his martial bearing is. “I’m sorry. I’m an orphan too. I lost my brother to the Bloods as well.”

My gaze darts to the shrine. “Is this an interrogation?”

“Can’t it be a chat to get to know each other?”

“It could. This isn’t.”

“A dragon likes to understand the treasures he collects.” When Aurelius leans closer, my gaze drops to the curve of his cruel, soft mouth.

I swallow, deliberately not looking lower than his jaw.

I can sense the hum of his dragon dagger and feel it’s dark whispers searing against my skin.

If I could pickpocket Aurelius’ weapon and slip it into my nest, then at least I wouldn’t be defenseless here.

Yet I’ve never met a Shadow Dragon before. They’re meant to be more powerful than wolves, but what if I’m faster?

This can be a test that I’ll pass off as an accident, if it fails.

My heart speeds up.

“Am I a treasure?” I whisper .

I brush my hand against his dagger, as lightly as a breath of wind.

Instantly, Aurelius snatches my wrist.

I grunt in pain, as he squeezes, shoving me over onto my back and pinning me down. My heart is hammering in my chest, as his shadow bathes me in darkness.

“A thief too.” Aurelius’ expression is shuttered. “Or an assassin.”

“I don’t understand.”

“We both know that you do, Little Wolf.”

“Your dagger is pretty.” I’m breathing too hard. I can’t pull my wrist out of his hard grip. “Does it always whisper like that?”

Finally, he lets go of me in shock.

“You can hear it too?” Aurelius demands.

“Am I not meant to?”

“It’s cursed. It belonged to Emperor Hadrian, my ancestor. No one else has heard…they said that I was inventing…crazy… If you touch the blade, you’ll be turned to ash.”

“I won’t be doing that then.” I study Aurelius’ molten eyes, carefully.

Aurelius pushes himself to his feet, adjusting his armor. “I truly did see you, Spark, and intend to bring you with me to save your life. I wish to protect you. It’s a dragon thing.”

Since I’m apparently in the middle of an enemy camp in their king’s own tent, I nod like I believe him.

It’s safest .

I pull my knees up to my chest and wrap my arm around them. “So, am I a prisoner?”

Aurelius snorts. “My prisoners are in cages. You, on the other hand, are in my tent, living better than I am right now.”

He strides around the shrine, skirting the bed to reach the table on the other side.

I furrow my brow in confusion.

Then I look around myself, as realization sinks in. “This is your bed.”

Aurelius doesn’t reply, ignoring me. Instead, he bends over and scrutinizes the battle plan that’s laid out on the table.

“I’ve taken a king’s bed for days,” I say to myself.

I pat the leather and smoke scented nest. No wonder it smells so strongly of Aurelius.

I blush, trying not to imagine Aurelius lying naked underneath this velvet bedding.

Of course, I don’t try very hard.

Aurelius glances over at me, as if surprised at my sudden silence.

I scramble for something to say before he figures out the reason for my sudden flood of pheromones and slick wet thighs.

“Where have you been sleeping?” I ask.

“This is a military campaign.” Aurelius sniffs like he’s chasing my scent, and I press my thighs together. “I can rough it with my soldiers. If I couldn’t, then I wouldn’t deserve to lead them.”

“And what happens to me once this campaign is over? ”

A pause.

Too long.

I grip tightly onto the leather of my skirt.

Aurelius still doesn’t look up from the battle plans. “I’ll take you back to the capital with me. You’ll be killed if you set foot in Fang Kingdom again. I can offer you a new home. Let me. You can be my pet.”

Furious, I pick up a cushion and hurl it at his head. With lightning quick reflexes, he steps to the side, and it misses him. He didn’t even need to look up.

How does he do that?

“Ah, so you’re an assassin with cushions.” He sounds amused.

“I am not a pet,” I hiss. “I am a wild wolf, and if you try to leash me, I will bite off your fucking hand.”

Finally, he looks up at me. The first flicker of true emotion sparks to life across his face: savage joy.

“Bite anyone who leashes you, Wild Wolf,” he snarls. “I would never dream of it. I want to set you free. The non-shifter workers are called pets in Dracanian tradition. I’m offering you work and a roof over your head, a lavish one. You’d be paid well. It’s only a name.”

“Still,” I say through clenched teeth, “maybe think about changing that tradition, Your Majesty.”

“Think about not commanding kings.” His cold gaze meets mine.

Instantly, I remember just who I’m speaking to and how much power he has. It crackles in the air between us.

It’s easy to forget with Aurelius.

Dangerously easy .

I duck my head, playing with the hem of my dress.

“Stay inside the tent. I will have food and drink sent to you,” he instructs. “I’ve made arrangements for you to be cared for. The campaign shouldn’t take more than a couple of days. You’ll be safe here.”

What campaign? How dangerous is it?

The memory of the lavender eyed Shadow Fae King who I’d been meaning to run to, when Aurelius snatched me to safety instead, flashes into my mind.

I don’t know whether my fear is for Aurelius or for Daire.

Aurelius’ expression softens. “Don’t worry about it. I’m not the one in danger.”

I figured.

I watch through my eyelashes, as the King marches to the flap at the front of the tent. “Where are you going?”

When Aurelius turns back to me, his eyes are like molten gold, and his smile is cold death. “To fight the most important battle of my long life. One that will end in the defeat and either death or capture of an old foe who I will be leashing and keeping in a cage.”

Fuck, no. King Daire.

“Are you…?” I wet my dry lips, trying desperately to sound like I don’t care, when in fact, I’m breaking apart inside. “Why…?”

“An ambush. And when Daire is on his knees before me, perhaps I will spare his life and turn him into my second pet. Would you like company in Bael? He’s meant to be the best.” Aurelius laughs but it’s a dead sound.

“But then, he is even more likely than you are to bite. He’s not a wolf like you.

He’ll be a fallen king, not deserving the title, as clawless as a kitten. I shall call him Kit.”

“You haven’t beaten him yet.”

Aurelius cocks his head, studying me. “He’s a bandit. His army of outlaws are a plague. Wish your King luck at scourging the land of their evil.”

Why does he care that I wish him luck? Why does he sound hurt like I’m taking sides?

Who even am I to him?

“You’re at war with the fae,” I count off on my fingers, “at war with the vampires. Is there anyone who you’re not at war with?”

“You,” Aurelius replies, softly.

Then he turns with a swish of his cloak and pushes the flap of the tent aside.

Sharp, dangerous, and cold, Aurelius strides out to fight the final battle in the Second Fae War.