A Battle of Fyre and Frost

Drace One

My time is already spread thin. The idiot king has gone and secured a marriage contract with the princess of my people's greatest enemy.

I have better things to do than fucking see to his mistress's punishment. Yet, here I am, the one who gets to drag her bloodied and bruised body out to the canal and finish her off. And all because she came when he told her not to. Some men would be proud if their partner just couldn't help themselves.

Not Perron.

His control issues are worse than mine.

The hall of the palace is unusually packed. No doubt as much demonstration of the king's power as necessity in the face of the Thegallan's arrival. Show her how formidable Zegon is while also making sure the place is fucking perfection. Which I knew meant me getting out, getting my job done, and back again for dinner. Perron can't be seen without both his bonds in front of the spoils of politics for too long.

The tasks he sets, it's like Perron wants us to fail. I won't give him the satisfaction.

As I glance over the kerei and humans hurrying about like insignificant ants, something catches my attention. Someone. I take a deep scent of the air.

There.

Thegallan.

But that can't be the princeling's sacrifice. There's no way she's the princess that Perron bartered Zegon's beneficence for.

She's fucking tiny, but she's making up for a lack of height in the space she takes up with that ridiculous dress. If you could call it a dress when it's missing the front of its skirt. Every ample curve is accentuated. No, highlighted. Despite the only skin on show being her face. She's just as covered as any kerei, but no kerei looks half as good as her in their skin tight leathers.

As good?

Fuck.

My feet are taking me to her before I know what I'm doing. I'm too damned busy blocking out the rage of my dragon in my head.

"Shut the fuck up," I snarl at him as my dagger goes to her throat.

My mind might be rebelling. My dragon might be rebelling. But my body knows what we need to do.

"We want her," he rumbles back deep in my mind.

I can see why he wants her. I get it. She barely reaches my shoulders, but she's staring up at me, her eyes meeting mine like she doesn't know the meaning of fear. Baby blue eyes that are so pale she may as well be kerenei. And her hair. That braid. I could get a fucking good grip with a braid like that as I slam into her from behind. Ugh. The leverage on that. I bet she'd scream like a champion.

And she smells so good.

What is that?

"Make her–"

Fuck. No.

I press my dagger into her neck, my gloves brushing her jaw as I focus with my bigger head. "Thegallan."

I feel her heart pound and desire swirls off her to tickle my senses. My dragon stirs, threatening to shake off the sluggishness of Perron's control at the scent. Her scent.

"Lauden," her guard hisses and I know that voice. But I can't expose I know it.

My mind snakes out to find his, but I'm blocked. He's wearing cuffs? Who the fuck is this tiny Thegallan woman, why is she with Nycostaer, and why is he dampened?

I'm about to ask him when she glares at me like looks could kill and I'm distracted. "Is this how you greet all your guests?"

Her eyes drop down for a second to my chest. When she looks up, I wonder what she's thinking. Her eyes trace the bond mark on my cheek and down under my high collar. They widen imperceptibly as she realises what it all means.