Burn (Dragon Souls) (11 page)

“Have you forgotten all I taught you?” Pausing his task, Myron’s bushy brows winched, accentuating his wrinkled forehead. “I raised you as my own. Familiarity is welcomed, but I am still your elder. Knock before you enter my domain.”

Molars grinding, Koen swallowed the cutting response he answered to no one. He bowed his head in acquiesce. “I come to ask for leniency.” He hesitated, bowing lower.
Modesty will not harm my cause when it is well known I abhor it.
“I need you to not judge her.” He swallowed past the thickness in his gullet. “Understand I love her and stand by her in all things. She is mine. I will not give her up. Crown, Wreath or peasant
non la
, I will marry her.”

Stilling, Myron’s gaze slowly lifted. The parchment rolled closed as he sat back. “I see.”

Koen fought panic tooth and claw at the heavy regret weighting the words. He grated the rest through clenched teeth. “I bedded my Treasure.”

Eyes closing briefly, Myron nodded. “I know. You failed to hide your distress at the feast.” The old male laced his hands over his stomach. His eyes glimmered with sadness. “There is nothing I can do.”

“Look the other way.”

“That is not how this shall be, Koen Raad, Dragon King. Have forgotten who you are and what you mean to so many? Law and tradition hold the predators of this land from tearing our society apart. You know this. I am held accountable not only by the innocent of this land, but by my own convictions.” Myron placed a hand on the desk, bracing himself. “She is unworthy.”

“Do not.” Koen snarled pacing the mats. His fingers curled into fists. “Do not dare. Speak against my Treasure and I will kill you.”

Anger darkened Myron’s refined features. “I will not be threatened.”

“You would have me hate you?”

Harrumphing, the Regent tossed his head. “Actions have consequences. You must have known this day would come. How could you not?
A High Princess
, taken like a commoner. I vow, you shame me and all that we stand for.” Myron slammed his palm to the desk. The crack of sound loud in the quiet room. “
What in the name of the goddess were you thinking
?”

“She was to remain in the human world.” Koen threw his hands in the air. “My life has been spent running from females who want nothing but to own me. She was so
open
, so beautiful. Kind. My desire for her is beyond anything I have felt, and it grows.” He let the blossoming love he carried in his heart overflow in his words. “She is the air to me. The sun. Myron, she has become my existence.”

“Ah.” The old male’s composure cracked. “I remember this feeling. The early days when I found my beloved....” His breathing coarsened. He forlornly shook away the memories. The veil of tears obscuring his vision did not shame him. “She is your Treasure.” The words held a wealth of understanding.

Koen rubbed the heel of his palm to his chest. “Do not tell me there is nothing you can do.”

Reality was often cruel. “We are done here.”

“Do
not
do this.”

Pushing onto his feet, Myron straightened his papers, corked his ink, and put away his writing tools.

He ignored his shaking hands.

Emotion could play not part in his decision-making. He snuffed the incense burning on his desk and waved away the thin spiral of fireberry-scented smoke. “It is not I who have done this. Look to yourself and your lover.”

Heart pounding wildly, Koen wasn’t too proud to plead, not to his mentor for his Treasure. “Please.”

Startled, Myron froze.

A lengthy sigh eked past his lips and his body slumped. His exasperation deflated only to be replaced with sorrow.

He glided around the desk and stopped not a foot from the Dragon Lord he’d raised from infancy, as was tradition. “There is no fighting this. It is done.”

“It will change nothing. Nothing will keep us apart.” Koen struggled to regulate his breathing. He was too emotional, he knew, but panic was a constant companion where his Treasure was concerned. It bedevilled him he could not keep her close at all times to know she was safe. “I will fight for her.”

“So be it.” Myron was placid. “Come.” He paused at the grandiose partition to whisper something to a guard who then took off in haste.

They walked silently through the halls until they reached the floor holding rooms for the members of House Zar.

Myron chortled as they passed another maid who gasped and swooned in Koen’s naked wake. “Will you not clothe your nakedness?”

“Marina has seen me bare.”

The old male flicked him a stern glance. “It is unseemly.”

“I care not.”

“Spare my aged eyes the ghastly sight of youth. Adorn yourself. Before
I
do it. As I did when you were a youngling.”

Smoke billowed from Koen’s nostrils. As a youngling, he’d wanted nothing more than to fly and play. Myron insisted he wear ornate robes whenever he was in human form. It irritated him no end, as he had to pause to magick them away whenever he gratefully succumbed to the need to wear his
dragonskin
. When he’d grown older and refused to bother, Myron began conjuring the clothes onto his person from a distance. Humiliating. “Fine.”

He clothed himself, and grunted when the older male chuckled. Myron noticed how he grimaced, and tugged at his leathers to ease the restraint against the heavy ache in his groin. He was going to see his Treasure. Arousal was inevitable.

They passed Boy, Cathryn then Mikhail’s stately rooms before coming to Marina’s.

Claws of desire scraped along his thighs and hips when his nose captured a faint tease of her scent. Koen grew edgy. The dark slashes of his eyebrows lowered into a glower.

No matter what Myron decided he would not give Marina up.

Being disqualified would shame her, but any who dared mock her would feel the bite of his flame, the cut of his ice.

He heard Daniil’s deep timbre as they halted outside the painted screen.

Marina’s sultry voice and husky laughter made his heart clench.

If only I could spare her this.

“The physician has been cancelled?” he asked gruffly. “I wish to lessen her embarrassment. There is no need for her to endure his examination.”

“Yes, yes,” Myron snapped. “Khan knows he is not needed. Where do you think I sent the messenger?” He drew himself up. “I am furious, Koen, to be forced into this position. I have no desire to harm this young woman.” He palmed the screen, paused to ring the bell then marched into the room. His robes swept behind him in a fan of gold silk. Snow white locks fluttered about his wizened face. “Marina Zar. Stand before me.”

Sat in a pool of golden light, Marina’s gaze jumped from where it fastened on Koen to Myron. She squeezed Daniil’s knee then did as she was bid.

“Regent.” Expression cool, she dipped her head. “Having a pleasant morning?”

Thrown off guard, Myron gathered a fold of his robe in his hand. “It has become trying. The reason of which you are aware.”

Icy façade cracking, she sank her upper teeth into the lushness of her bottom lip. “I don’t see a physician.”

“Out of respect for your Sire, I will do my best to see the particulars of this matter contained.”

Her lips curved. “How redundant. It won’t be hard to deduce what happened in here. A disqualification after a mystic checks for virginity is pretty self explanatory.”

Myron’s stance softened. “It is all I can do.”

“Sit with us?” Marina didn’t wait for an answer. She moved to Koen’s side, and waited for him to hold her. Her dark eyes filled with emotion, and he was intensely aware of her drawing in his scent, reacting to it by shifting even closer. “Hello, trouble.”

Slipping his hands around her waist, Koen buried his nose in her hair. This was where he belonged. “I am sorry.” His voice roughened. He lowered further and rubbed his entire face into her neck gathering her scent upon his skin. It was as much for his comfort as hers. “We will get through this.”

She tiled her head back, and her smile was filled with adoration he didn’t deserve. There was no anger or fear in her eyes. The soft shimmer of affection was a balm.

He stole a kiss.

Another when she possessively cupped his throat then led her to the seating area over the far side of the room.

Taciturn, Myron cut to the point. “I have no wish to prolong this.”

“Understandable.” Remaining close to his side, Marina folded her legs under her bottom. “It’s not the most comfortable topic. Embarrassing as hell to be frank.”

Myron’s gaze was sympathetic, but his voice cracked like a whip when he spoke. “High Princess Marina Zar. You are herby disqualified from Aver.”

“Ugh.” She shuddered delicately. “As a proud overachiever, I’ve got to say that stung.” Leaning into Koen’s side, aggrieved, she shook her head. “Excuse me, Regent, because there is no way to phrase this without sounding like an arrogant bitch, but I’m not.” She paused. “Disqualified, that is.”

“It is not a suggestion. My ruling is final unless....” He looked between them meaningfully. “Do you mean to dispute you have been intimate with the Dragon King? Such a claim will be verified.”

“I freely admit Koen and I slept together. Sorry if that offends you. I was raised in a culture where people express their love physically when they’re ready.” Her eyes grew liquid, hazy with memory, her smile private. The lines of her body softened further pressing into him. “And we were ready.”

Enchanted, Koen brushed the back of his hand across her collarbone.

Her complexion was luminous with love.

What male didn’t feel moved when his woman glowed at the memory of their joining?

Unhappy with the state of affairs, Myron gathered his scattered wits. Clearly he was resigned to his duty. He averted his gaze from her blissful expression. It aggravated him felt he intruded. “I understand you love him. That he found you means everything to me. Knowing your affection for each other I am pained to do this. Yet, I am bound. I must uphold the laws of this Kingdom. Know I am saddened. I suffer for you.”

“I haven’t broken any law. You have no grounds to disqualify me.”

“Chosen must be untouched to participate in Aver. With respect, Princess, you are unchaste.”

Offended, Koen growled.

“He said nothing that isn’t true.” Marina rubbed the strong cut of his jaw. “Calm for me?”

Mollified, Koen distracted himself from the harrowing conversation by luxuriating in the feel of her warm body moulded to his. He watched, captivated, as golden sunlight deepened the blue highlights in her dark hair, and fingered the lustrous strands.

Having her so close contentment soothed his Dragon, yet a feeling of anticipation excited him.

Soon Aver would be over and he needn’t temper his touch. The lust that flared from his kiss could be slaked unchecked. She would be his. He would forever be hers.

Koen Raad had found his Treasure and would cherish her to the end of his days.

Giving her up was out of the question, and he would rage as never before if they thought to take her from him.

“I shall leave you now.” The Regent gradually rose, feeling his years in his bones. Dragon Lords may be immortal, but without their Treasures they tended to age much like any other living creature. “There is much to be done.”

Marina stilled him with an intense look. “You can
not
disqualify me over this. I broke no laws. Virgin Queens are traditional. Nowhere in your written laws does is it a requirement to be a contestant in Aver.”

Straightening to his full height the Regent double blinked.

“Lord Myron, we beg your indulgence.” Daniil smoothly picked up the conversation. His tone brimmed with the respect Marina unintentionally stripped from hers. “The magistrate will verify our argument. We found no relevant law in the Tome of Principle. After millennia of hosting Aver we have muddled law with belief.”

“Impressive and resourceful,” Myron said finally. He regained his seat and relaxed for the first time since entering the room. He even managed a smile that died. “Tradition is law. That is what the Courts will say.”

Unmoved, Daniil didn’t flinch. He shrugged. “Should any House formally protest we shall plead our case before the Dragon Council.”

Snorting, Myron’s response was sardonic. “Who have no impartiality when it comes to this matter.”

The Dragon Council had twisted the Regent’s arm to allow Marina to enter the tournament at so late a date with little training. Sensitive to the pulse of the land, the elderly Phoenixes keenly felt the need for an Emperor to ascend. They would entertain whatever House bore enough of a grudge to bring up formal charges then simply rule in Marina’s favour, ultimately, in Koen Raad’s favour.

Compounding the bias was Marina’s Council Mon Sire. The male was eager to bond with his estranged offspring.

Whether she realised it or not, Marina was treated with preference. The Regent knew it was not her fault. He’d spent little time with her, but an innate goodness emanated from her aura. It was easier to concede than it should have been.

“Very well,” he said affably, foreseeing the gathering storm darkening their future horizon, wondering when it would break.

These small acts of defiance were harmless in isolation, but eventually something would sit too awkwardly with the Courts and the whole thing would crumble. He wished they would see it.

All he could do is warn them and hope for the best.

Marina clapped her hands in finality, forcing her face to brighten. “Are we done?” She shot an appalled look at her servant. “Did you not hear the Regent, Pasha? Quit sobbing.”

Myron was saddened by the young woman’s resentment. It was a palpable wave of energy pushing him away. “I bear you no ill will, Lady Zar. I am exacting because I must be.”

She gave him a soft look of reproach. “You think I don’t know that? Understand the pressure this puts you under?” She sighed wearily. “It’s not you.” Burrowing closer to Koen, she rested her hand on his middle. Petting him soothed her. “The whole thing has made me touchy. Every time I turn around I’m met with something or someone telling me I’m not good enough. I have confidence in my abilities and I’m proud of who I am. I stand by my choices.”