Dragon's Blood: a Reverse Harem Fantasy Romance (The Dragon's Gift Trilogy Book 2)(16)

“Enough with the formalities,” Arolas said in a bored voice. “We know very well who they are, and vice versa. What I would like to know,” he said, his smirk turning into a disgusted sneer, “is why the servants are whispering about finding you in bed together.”

Dareena’s cheeks burned. “I don’t see how that is any of your business,” Alistair growled.

“Considering that you are our guests, I find the matter quite pertinent,” the High King said. “Does King Drystan know that you are bedding his wife? How can we assure her safety if we allow you to steal into her rooms every night? Are you attempting to supplant your brother by planting your own seed in her before he gets the chance?”

“Please, Your Highness,” Dareena said, taking a step forward. “It isn’t like that at all. Drystan is—”

Arolas made a slicing motion with his hand, and Dareena choked as her mouth filled with air. Try as she might, she couldn’t speak, and she was forced to breathe in through her nose lest she pass out. From the pained noise Alistair made, she guessed the same had been done to him.

“There is no need to make excuses,” the prince said, his eyes glittering. “I suppose you can’t be faulted for bedding the prince. After all, it was what you were created for, was it not?” His cold gaze slid over Dareena like a physical caress, and she burned with anger and humiliation. She wanted to slap the smug, condescending look right off his face, but she could do nothing from her position so far below him.

That will change, she vowed fiercely as she glared up at him. One way or another, she would find a way to turn the tables so that she was on top.

In an act of pure defiance, she moved closer to Alistair and took his hand in hers. Murmurs swept through the gallery, and the High King’s eyes narrowed.

“Perhaps we should let them explain themselves, Father,” Basilla said, looking curiously at their joined hands. “They have to know word of this will spread back to Dragonfell. Could it be that we’ve made the wrong assumption about which of them is king?”

“Nonsense,” Andur scoffed. “Dragonfell would never have turned over both its king and its Dragon’s Gift as hostages. No one is that foolish. Still,” he said after a beat of silence, “it would be best if we did not send word back to the new king about his wife’s infidelity. We do not wish to devalue them.”

“I’ve seen the reparations you and Father have written out,” Basilla said to Arolas. “The sum is quite high. What will you do if they do not pay?”

“Oh, they will,” Arolas said, smiling wide. “The Dragon’s Gift is far too valuable for them to refuse. If they do not, she will be executed. Which does not bother me in the slightest,” he added with a shrug. “As far as I’m concerned, putting an end to the dragon line once and for all can only be a good thing for us.”





10





Late at night, four days after Dareena had left Dragon’s Keep, Lucyan stared into the bottom of his whiskey glass and wondered how the hell he’d managed to sink so low.

Just a month ago, he would have never imagined growing depressed over a woman. They were a dime a dozen in his life, easily accessible. Married, single, virginal, whorish, it hadn’t mattered—he’d had them all. And while he’d delighted in the time spent between pair after pair of legs, the moment they were out the door, they were also out of his head and heart.

He’d never become attached to one before. Not until Dareena. And the woman who held his heart in her precious hands was hundreds of miles away, far beyond his ability to protect or cherish her.

Alistair is one lucky bastard, he groused to himself as he put his feet up on the coffee table. If his father had been here to see it, he would have had a fit, but since Dear Old Dad had run off into the mountains with their treasure, he had no right to complain about how Lucyan treated his furniture. He and Drystan had moved into the king’s suite, since all the other available rooms were being used to treat the soldiers. The servants had already taken down the animal heads and would busy themselves replacing the linens and furniture once the soldiers were back on their feet. He couldn’t wait for Dareena and Alistair to come back so they could enjoy the space together.

Speaking of Alistair, he wondered how his brother was faring. As much as he envied him for being able to stay by Dareena’s side, he also knew that his brother was likely in pain, or at least discomfort, right now. His spies had reported to him that the elves had paid the warlocks to help them cast a strong anti-dragon spell over the heartland of their kingdom, which would weaken any dragon who crossed the border and prevent them from either shifting or breathing fire. It was the equivalent of cutting Alistair’s balls off, and Lucyan was all too glad he didn’t have to endure that.

Lucyan considered switching to port instead of whiskey, then a knock came at the door. Groaning, he heaved out of his chair and opened the door to find Shadley. The grave look on his face sobered Lucyan right up, and he opened the door wide to let the spymaster in.

“What is it?” he asked, closing the door behind them.

“I’ve been investigating the Black Cloak Brotherhood, and something interesting has come to light,” Shadley said, taking a seat in one of the chairs by the fire. Lucyan retook his chair and poured a glass for both him and Shadley. “I have reason to suspect that the oracle is behind their sudden rise to prominence.”