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Page 31 of Wrath of the Dragons (Fear the Flames #2)

I take a deep breath despite the air having a bitter tang to it and laugh weakly.

The white wrappings on his knuckles are splattered with blood, and sweat glides down his chiseled torso, making my body heat.

Something else courses through me when I realize I’m not the only one who notices.

He’s beautiful in the ring, moving with a grace so few ever master.

Nearly all the women in the crowd watch him with desire written plainly on their faces. Do they linger when he finishes? Do they touch him as he walks through the crowd? Has he been with any of them before? I don’t know this part of his life. I don’t know this version of him. But I want to.

I take a step away from Ryder, submitting to the pull that has drawn me to Cayden since I met him, and it’s as if that one movement triggered something in him because his gaze collides with mine.

His eyes are unhinged and filled with so much malice that it sends a chill through me.

Whoever he’s fighting isn’t who he sees in his mind.

He can temporarily erase the scars from his skin, but he can’t extract the memories that make healed wounds bleed.

He does a double take, his brows coming together like he truly doesn’t believe I’m here as he shoves his opponent back by the shoulders.

He makes his next move faster than I can blink, slamming his fist into the side of the man’s face, sending him tumbling to the ground where he remains as Cayden ducks through the ropes.

The roar of the crowd is deafening, but instead of flocking to him as I suspected they would, they do the opposite.

His dark gaze never leaves mine as he stalks toward me like no force in this world could alter his course.

“That’s five wins for the Viper! Collect your winnings at the window and place your bets for the next fight,” the announcer calls out.

My stomach sinks.

Five fights.

Did speaking about the Imirath throne trigger this?

I barely have time to soak in the sight of him once he’s close enough.

He throws me over his shoulder and I’m hardly able to hear Ryder laughing over the blood rushing to my ears as Cayden carries me away.

He slips through the hidden door and sets me on my feet before ripping his mask off.

He crowds my space not a moment later, and my back presses into the wood.

“Why are you here? Did something happen?” His breathing is labored, and he carefully reaches forward to unhook my mask, not that it truly makes a difference. The most I can see is his silhouette, but I prefer it this way, considering he took the feature-altering tonic.

“I’m not hurt.” I dig my nails into the door, tilting my head back as his breath fans against my lips. “Why did you come here?”

“I had to meet with Alexus.”

“You know that’s not what I’m asking.” Ryder and I already spoke about this, but I need to hear it from him. “Why were you fighting?”

When he speaks his voice is a deep rumble that I feel in the marrow of my bones. “It quiets my mind.”

I swallow. “Does anything else quiet your mind?”

He moves one arm above my head, undoing the clasp on my cloak with his other hand, letting it slide off my shoulders before wrapping his fingers around my throat. “It’s quiet right now.” His thumb settles over my jumping pulse point.

I try to find relief by dropping my gaze, but there’s none.

I can’t see his eyes, and yet they still burn into mine.

He’s always been able to do that. To see me when no one else can.

Cayden is bound to me in the same way the moon and stars are bound to the night: we remain together no matter how much darkness surrounds us.

“I—” My throat is so dry it’s nearly painful to speak.

“You’re trembling.” His hand moves from my throat to glide down my arm. I’ve always hated how visible my anxiety is. “Are you frightened?”

“I think so,” I whisper, and his hand stops moving as he stiffens. “Not of you, but of what I need to say to you.”

He cradles my face, keeping me close as if it’s impossible for him to let me go.

His thumb brushes over my bottom lip, and my eyes slip shut.

I can tell his mouth is so close, and I’m so tempted to close the distance, but his warmth is suddenly ripped from me as he links our hands and tugs me off the wall.

“We’ll talk in my office.” I yelp as he scoops me in his arms and begins climbing up the steps. “Did anyone see you without your mask?”

“No. I kept it on the whole time I was here.”

“Good. Nobody would forget a face like yours if they saw it. Trust me, I know.” I’m thankful he’s not able to see the flush creeping up my neck just yet.

Oh, gods.

Delmira ate his door.

Cayden’s steps slow when we reach the first landing, and I inspect my nails after side-eyeing the door and blowing out a breath. “You should really take better care of your investments. This place is falling apart.”

“There are bite marks in the wood,” he flatly states.

“Listen, I won’t judge you if you got a bit hungry but perhaps next time you could try something with sugar in it.”

He sighs as we continue our ascent. “What did I say all those months ago about that prissy royal attitude?”

That I’ve mastered it. “Something about it being one of your favorite things about me.”

“You must not have very many good qualities to choose from then.”

He laughs at my annoyed huff and opens a door at the very top.

The narrow hall has a few other doors within it, but he guides me through the first. It’s small but practical, with sparse office furniture in various shades of wood and a few ledgers neatly stacked behind the desk.

The red-and-black rug underfoot has seen better days, but I can see why he designed this place as he did.

Nothing in here aside from the whiskey reminds me of him.

He sets me down and I turn to face him, but suck in a sharp breath while stumbling into a chair.

Noticing straightaway, his brows furrow above a pair of brown eyes.

He moves to place his hand on my shoulder, but I’m unable to stop myself from flinching.

I never imagined what his face would look like without the scar.

I suppose it makes him look more classically handsome, but he’s always been beautiful to me, and I prefer him with it.

“What is it?”

“You—” I shake my head. “You don’t look like—” my Cayden.

His confusion clears and he turns away to pull a vial from the trunk in the corner, swallowing the orange fizzy liquid encased within.

My lips part as the scars on his back slowly re-form, and when he turns back around my shoulders loosen.

He throws a shirt over his head as I pour him a glass of water from the pitcher on a small table.

He regards me curiously. “What did you want to talk about?”

I look around, but there aren’t many places to sit, and I’d rather not conduct this conversation from stiff chairs.

I take the glass from his hand and take a few sips before handing it back.

His lips quirk up in a familiar way that eases my nerves slightly, and I pull at the fur on my sleeve while walking to the open window.

“So this is your business?”

He raises his brows and tucks a hand into his pocket as he moves to stand beside me. “The Demon’s Den.”

I laugh softly, cutting my eyes to him before overlooking the city. “Subtle.”

He shrugs. “Subtler than the way you’re trying to stall.”

My teeth sink into my lower lip, and I force myself to swallow through my tight throat.

“I spent most of my life seeking love from a place of pain, so I think I stopped expecting it as a way to cope. But the more pain I experienced, the more I craved love, and the more desperate I became. I didn’t realize how far gone I was.

It felt as if I was constantly reaching out my hand and only realized the pain I was in when all my fingers were broken, my skin was marred with blood, and I had nothing left to give.

” It began before Ailliard. I remember clinging to the bars of my cell while I cried out for a mother who never came.

“So when you hurt me, I thought shutting you out was the best way to protect myself. I’ve always been told the depth in which I feel things is a weakness and that it’s best to keep weaknesses hidden. ”

“I don’t want you to hide a single part of yourself from me,” Cayden says, curling his hands over the window ledge. He tilts his head down so I’m able to look into his eyes. “I adore everything about you, even the traits you despise.”

I nod, hanging onto his reassurance like a lifeline. “I miss you.”

His features contort in pain as his gaze flashes to my lips. “I’ve always been here.”

“But I need more.” I briefly close my eyes to subdue the burning within them.

“If I’m to be vulnerable with you again, I need you to do the same.

If I’m to take the Imirath throne with you by my side, I need to be able to fully trust you.

If you always wear a piece of armor when you’re alone with me then I’ll always expect a battle. ”

“I never intended to make you feel that way,” he answers gently, his eyes softening. “I’ve just lived without vulnerability for so long that I don’t remember what it’s like to not be burdened by caution.”

“You know what happened to me when I was a child. You tortured one of Garrick’s guards, you heard the tales of the tortured princess, and you’ve pulled me through my panic.

” I take a deep breath, urging myself to continue.

“You keep imploring me to communicate with you, but I won’t be able to until you climb the wall you keep between us and meet me on the other side.

I want to know you, Cayden. I want to know that you trust me enough to tell me the things that have shaped you into the man you are today.

I don’t ever want to be blindsided by anything when it pertains to you again. ”

“You want me to tell you about my past,” he states without emotion. “You want to know why I hate Garrick aside from the scar on my face and him murdering my mother.”

“Yes.”

A muscle flutters in his jaw, and he tucks his tongue into the side of his cheek as he weighs my words.

He’s looking at me like I’m his favorite puzzle in need of solving, bright green eyes tracing my features and the fingers wrapped around my pendant.

He nods more to himself than to me, like he’s come to a conclusion within the confines of his mind.

Several beats pass, and though his face doesn’t change, his fingers lace through mine.