Burn (Dragon Souls) (18 page)

Marina bowed at Myron. The fringe of her hair fell into her eyes and she dislodged it with a toss of the head. Eyes sparkling mischief, she ascended the stone steps holding Koen’s lambent gaze.

Slipping between his bent thighs, smiling when his white-knuckled hands gripped the arms of his throne, she gracefully lowered and spun giving him her back.

Seated between his legs she kept her hands to herself – waiting for him to touch her. “How spot on is my timing, huh?”

Utterly distracted from the conversation, Koen fingered the silky whorls of hair at the nape of her neck. “Hm.”

Daniil’s response was darker. He narrowed his eyes at Myron. “Some would say it is opportune.”

Gold eyes gleaming, Myron smiled showing teeth. “Fortuitous indeed.”

Marina was either disinterested, or oblivious of the emotional undercurrents. “What am I being asked?”

“We discussed last night’s attack,” Myron said Myron quickly. “Debated over a course of action I do not consider wise.”

“Oh.” Marina nibbled on the last of the firefruit. “I wanted to be involved in this. I don’t have much background on the Mages though. I’ll give my opinion for what’s it worth.”

“I have the highest faith in you. You will provide fresh insight into our moral dilemma.” Myron brushed invisible lint of his arm, slanting the empathetic Princess a considering look out the corner of his eye. “Do you remember Khan?”

“Of course.” She unconsciously touched her cheek, obviously recalling the man’s distinctive brands. “He was the Mage who healed me after the quest. He was lovely – such startling grey eyes. He was so polite, and
interesting
. I’d love to learn about his healing art and his home in the Wastelands. Do you think he’d talk to me?”

The earnestness in the voice of a female who could command all but a few in the entire land to her bidding was shocking.

Koen debated if she was being coy or humble. He decided the latter. Her unassuming nature was one of the traits that made her so lovable.

Her fascination with the Mage was evident.

After seeing Battle Mages in action he knew her curiosity would grow rampant unless appeased.

He slid the wily Regent a dry look. His approach was inspired. Marina was an advocate of the needy waif. Myron painted Khan as a friend to be protected. All he needed now was to hint Daniil’s interview placed the Mage in danger, and the man would become untouchable. Marina would rise to his defence, resisting Daniil and his plotting until the end of days.

Koen may have uncovered Myron’s end game, but he would not intervene. He was curious. Marina needed to learn to navigate political conversations for the battlegrounds they often were.

What safer time to practice then with his mentor and battle-brother?

“It had been suggested we interrogate him.” Eyes sad, Myron’s whole body wilted. “It will bring him under much suspicion. The servants can be cruel to each other.”

“That’s the worst idea I’ve ever heard. Drag him in here on the heels of an attack by people of his ethnicity and you may as well stick a target on his back.” Marina scowled, shooting an angry look up at Koen then across at Daniil, who rolled his eyes, and stuffed roasted meat into his mouth. “Are you racial profiling? You are aren’t you? I won’t stand for it.”

Avoiding the accusing female glare, Daniil’s was exasperated and directed at the Regent.

Koen wasn’t sure if it was because he was truly upset Myron manipulated her so, or because he missed his chance to sway her first.

“I never suggested torture,” Daniil said gratingly. “Stop exaggerating to get your way.”

Myron cinched victory. Jowls quivering, he recoiled, hand rising to hover at his throat. “
Torture
?”

Marina growled.

All three males twitched, and reined their Dragons’ instinctive response to the challenging reverberation.

Shaking off a retaliatory snarl, Daniil stared. The whites of his were eyes bright and bewildered. “Did you just
growl
?”

Dabbing at his upper lip, winded, Myron chuckled. The hoarse laughter was a tad nervous. He’d not experienced such an abrupt surfacing of his Dragon in some years.

Stiffening, more at ease with his Dragon’s feral response, Koen’s calculating eyes shimmered power as they narrowed. The jewelled hue of his irises intensified, and his oval pupils burned as the animal within fought for control. He
felt
the sound rumble through her, felt her dominance challenging them. He pressed his fingertips into Marina’s hot, damp skin.

The muscles pulled tight under the dominant touch. Her shoulders snapped straight, resistant, and the swells of her breasts inflated as her chest heaved.

Electric static charged the air with a familiar pressure.

The absurd notion she was about to shift flittered through Koen’s mind, darkly whispered by his Dragon. The beast snarled its desire to roam free, and thickened the atmosphere with its potent magicks.

His hand clamped down on her nape.

Exhaling in a rush, Marina rubbed her temples. Trembled. Her back hunched, and she visibly shrank. And then he smelt the sweet, tangy scent of her arousal.

At the submission his Dragon withdrew, purring.

Koen released the breath he held. The hot tendrils of it coiled around his lips, revealing how close he’d come to breathing flame. Kneading the knots from the tense, moon-glow flesh that formed under his hands, he blinked in amazement.

Chosen were known to be aggressive, but this was astonishing.

Magicks had seeped into the air and underscored her anger. She’d growled from the latent creature within, from her Dragon soul.

Pride welled within his heart.

Such manifestation of her strength shouldn’t alarm him. It should amaze him. His Treasure was extraordinary in more then her beauty and compassion.

She was
fierce
.

“Khan will be left alone.” Fidgety, Marina focused her indignation on Daniil. “You can’t go around torturing innocent people.
Koen
.” Her voice was all grievance. “Say something.”

He rubbed her back soothingly and cocked a brow at his mentor. “You insinuate much, Myron. Go easy. My Treasure is new to the subtler nuances of Court theatrics. You will have her summoning a battalion of Dragon Men to guard Khan by nightfall.”

“As if that lordling,” Myron flicked a dismissive hand at Daniil, “would not use every calculating technique in his arsenal to sway her to his way of thinking.” Myron sniffed, but then smiled at Marina. Crinkles appeared at the corners of his ancient eyes. “I may have played on your sympathies, but understand, Khan is a good man. Undeserving of the dishonour of being called to serve in this manner.”

Brushing his knuckles across her jaw, Koen watched Marina study the older male. She was cautious with Myron. Their relationship was resigned to a carefully cultivated respect because of Aver.

Koen didn’t believe she’d allow her own misgivings cloud her judgment on matters of state.

It would be satisfying to be proven accurate in such an apt situation.

“Treasure, the attack must be revealed for what it was. Either mercenaries stirring trouble, or a genuine act of war by our known enemy.”

“The Mages aren’t our enemy,” she insisted. “We have a treaty making them allies. We should give them the benefit of the doubt. Allow what happened last night to slide.”

“It is not that simple. They are known as treacherous. We cannot turn a blind eye only to be devastated by another attack we could have prevented by taking action.”

“Then you’re breaking the treaty by intent. You can’t sign a declaration of peace whilst secretly believing it will never hold.”

Koen snorted. “Did they not attack the Dragon King and his Treasure?”

“They didn’t want to. I know you felt that.”

Scooting until her back pressed against the seat of his throne.

Her hand wrapped around his knee.

It was a controlling touch, much like when she supped the side of his throat.

He loved it.

“And if it wasn’t an issue of state at all?” she asked in a odd tone.

Daniil paused in selecting another piece of meat, rejoining the conversation. “Marina?”

T
he connection between Boy’s growing powers and the Mages attack was too glaring to ignore. Marina hadn’t wanted to say anything. She might not have made the link had Boy not been foremost in her thoughts all morning.

She still hadn’t found him, or found anyone who’d seen him.

Myron appeared taken aback when she finished speaking. “You cannot believe the youngling had anything to do with the assault?”

“No.” Marina firmly shook her head. “I don’t think he’s doing anything wrong, but I’m not oblivious to the fact he’s going through something I’m struggling to understand. He’s only just coming to trust me fully, and it’s been a stressful time for everybody, so I’m not upset he hasn’t said anything. That’s for us to work out between ourselves. But....”

Koen curved his body over hers, wrapped his arms around her. He felt her fear as his own. “Treasure?”

“What if they sense it?” Her voice was small. “The Mages. What if they sense power born of their people growing
here
? They might think we took somebody.”

Troubled, Myron stroked his snowy beard. “Why would you think this?”

“The leader said,
‘It is not us who broke the treaty,’
when I warned them of the outcome of their actions.” Daniil shifted uneasily. “I assumed he sought to mislead us.”

“Maybe that’s why they were looking for me specifically.” Marina’s voice grew confident. “I sense Boy’s magicks easily. It must be effortless for them even over a greater distance. Like recognises like.”

“But why did they come for you and not him?” Daniil pondered aloud.

“It’s not a secret I adopted a child with an accent. Besides, imagine how we’d react if they stormed the Citadel and tried to take a child claimed as my son by force?”

Koen exhaled sharply.

“A blood bath,” Myron muttered. “To take one of ours by force is to invite death.”

Marina relaxed a fraction. At least they were in agreement there – touch Boy and blood would be shed. “That would explain why they were desperate to talk to me alone. Maybe they wanted to understand how it all came about.”

Daniil nodded slowly. “It fits. They would be able to correlate a missing youngling with Boy’s age. They would have discovered the rumours of the adoption easily. It is spoken of throughout the Dragon Lands.” Daniil looked at the middle distance deep in thought. “It is likely they investigated this for some time before they approaching you in the open. The Eldernmoot may have convened as we are now, wondering why a magick-gifted youngling was kidnapped from their desert and why. A lack of answers would have compelled them to act.” A look of certainty hardened his expression. “Those Battle Mages were sent to question you with their full support. It is what I would do in their place if being cautious. It just so happens the Dragon King was with you when they approached turning this into a political nightmare.”

They fell silent.

“Boy will be protected.” Marina focused on Daniil. Instinct pressed her to remind him particularly Boy was untouchable. “We stole no child, only gave a lost one a home. We’ll tell the Mages this. Let’s contact this Eldern Moot and request a talk.”

“Such a thing was avoided in the past.” Koen nuzzled her neck. “The treaty breaks then there is war.”

“I’m far too busy with Aver to help you fight a war.” Her voice dripped with exasperated amusement. “Instead of retaliating aggressively, we’re going to toss olive branches over the territorial line in the sand.”

“We are to poison them?” Koen sounded disgusted by the subterfuge. “Using these olives?”

“No, fool.” Daniil mimed clapping him upside the head. “We are to hit them with the branches.”

“Oh, no, no.” Marina cringed. “It’s a human gesture of nonviolence. I assumed it would mean the same across dimensions.”

“Oh.” Koen paused. Shared a baffled look with Daniil. “I see. We may not have these olive branches, but we can throw fire weeds at them if it pleases you.”

“They sting badly,” proffered Daniil, blue eyes solemn. A hint of naughty lurked behind the ignorant facade. “That is as nonviolent as we may get.”

Myron’s lips twitched.

They understood what she meant. The other two were being difficult, savage natures tantalized by the threat of war even as they sought to prevent it.

“Don’t you have a symbol that invokes peace?” Marina strived for patience. “A certain type of plant or bird people identify with goodwill?”

The witchy glow of Koen’s eyes brightened to a crafty glitter.

“Ah. I understand.” Smirking in his bastard-beautiful way, as if she said something quaint, he stroked her cheek. “This ‘peaceful gesture’ is a female whimsy, is it not?”

The smile became a wicked grin.

Finally understanding he teased her, she scowled. “You’re achingly close to a kiss with this fist.” She shook her balled up hand under his nose. “Watch yourself.”

Daniil chuckled. “I shall arrange this parley. It is the safest way forward now we have a better idea of their intentions.” He hesitated. “It is imperative you speak to the youngling.”

“I will.” Marina’s original worries swamped her. “As soon as I find him.”

Koen placed his hand over hers. “We shall find him together. Come.”

Marina followed Koen as he left the great hall and strode down the empty corridors.

People sensed him coming and abandoned their tasks to scarper from the fortress entirely, or dash into crevices to hide behind statues of Dragons Lords, peeking from their cubbies.

She understood there was a measure of what they called
dragonfear
at work, mainly they left out of a deep, abiding esteem. Koen’s Dragon was territorial, and the less people around him the better. It kept him calmer. So out of respect, they gave him space.

Koen’s large hand enveloped hers. His thumb rubbing across her skin in lingering sweeps that made her mushy inside.

The tension in his frame worried her considering who they looked for.