The Last Dragon Shifter

Chapter Twenty-Four

As the shock ricocheted through Naomi's body, she literally shook with rage. She couldn't think of a smart comeback or a tactful deflection. All she felt was red hot fury coursing through her. It was on the tip of her tongue to let out a slew of obscenities when she felt a familiar hand clasp hers under the table. While Malcolm's fingers intertwined with hers, the same barely contained anger simmered in Malcolm's eyes as he studied Alistar.

"Mr. Wood, while you may think of dragon shifters as mere trifles on display, in the short time I've known one, I've found them to be valuable friends and irreplaceable allies. I wouldn't change my time with Naomi for anything in the world. I'm sure after you've met a real dragon shifter as remarkable as her, your opinion on...appropriate décor may evolve."

Alistar, Naomi, everyone, looked at Malcolm in astonishment while he remained unfazed. As a befuddled Alistar gaped at him, Malcolm gave him a cheeky smile.

"How's that, chicken? Oh, I'm sorry, I meant turkey." Malcolm finished by taking a bite of his own. Meanwhile, his other hand stayed protectively over Naomi's.

All she could do was stare at him in amazement. Even as King Drewell cleared his throat and quickly changed the subject, she kept staring at Malcolm. He was always so cold and dismissive of her, and yet, he'd stood up to a councilman—someone who held Malcolm's future rule as king in their hands. He'd eviscerated Alistar and risked political suicide...for her.

"Malcolm..." Naomi started quietly, hoping their side conversation would go unnoticed. However, if she burst into tears like she wanted to, that would definitely change. He turned to her, his face tranquil and surprisingly tender.

"Malcolm, I..." She tried again but got caught in his breathtaking, blue gaze.

"Stop. It's nothing," he whispered.

As she began to protest it definitely was something, he squeezed her hand to silence her, then inevitably let go. Naomi missed the contact immediately but redirected her attention to the rest of the meal.

Despite the nasty aftertaste of Alistar's dinner remarks, King Drewell insisted on everyone staying awhile longer for after-dinner coffee and pastries. Still miffed, Alistar "politely" declined and left in a rush. After his exit, it was a more relaxed affair, with classical music playing as they sat and drank. While Queen Fiona took up her son's attention, Naomi took a breather by standing at the window. The night had truly been hellish, and if she had to offer another fake smile, she'd die. As Darius Walkins, the mage councilman, sidled up to her, she knew said death was imminent.

"One to five," he murmured as he looked out at the city. He said it in such a quiet, musing way he could have been talking to either Naomi or the streets of Patria. The brooding frown lines on his russet-brown skin had Naomi betting it was a city soliloquy. However...

"One to five," he repeated, looking at her openly this time.

"To five what?" she asked, puzzled.

"One to five...how badly do you want to jump out of this window right now? The resigned despair on your face has me thinking...a four point five?" Darius Walkins's stern demeanor changed completely as his dark eyes sparkled with amusement.

"Try sixteen." Naomi laughed for the first time that night.

"Try going to events like these year-round with blowhards like Alistar Wood. And this was one of his good nights."

Naomi whistled lowly. If that was the case, it was amazing Alistar hadn't been murdered by the rest of the council.

"I've barely survived this evening. I don't know how you handle years like this."