“Queen Justine…” Layla shook her head, reaching up to massage her temples. “I feel like she just poured herself inside me. Whirling around inside my head, my body, my magic. Even the hamsa-cuff couldn’t control it.”
“Justine’s not like other Storm Dragons.” Dusk’s sapphire gaze was knowing as he stepped close. “Like I can, she uses her energy to read people. It’s nearly impossible to block, and she’s ruled the Storm Dragons for over a thousand years because of the insights she gleans from rolling her power through other people’s magic. Here.”
Brushing his fingers over Layla’s collarbones, Dusk lowered his invisible crystal shield enough to pour a soothing vibration into her. She shuddered, feeling his energy ground her as if he rooted her in the deepest caverns of the earth. Her fugue cleared and she exhaled with relief. As he stowed his energy back behind his crystal shield, Layla found herself grateful for Dusk’s fingertips still stroking her. It was comforting – and he didn’t draw his fingers away, as if he enjoyed the contact also.
“Thanks,” she breathed.
“Don’t mention it,” he murmured, his gaze complex like it had been on their walk earlier. He moved as if he was about to let her go – when that tight coil of power suddenly caught them again. Layla inhaled, feeling that strong tension haul them closer, as if their Dragons couldn’t stand to be apart even by a few inches.
Dusk’s lips fell open as his eyes darkened to a deep sapphire, something intensely bright in them like diamonds. Slipping a hand around Layla’s waist, he drew her close. Stroking her collarbones, he traced his fingertips with his eyes – and somehow, it drove their coiling magic deeper inside Layla. She shuddered at his touch, finding herself yielding to him, her heart racing. He wasn’t using his magic, but it was as if his very touch was stirring her, moving emotions deep within her body. Her Dragon turned over inside her veins with a slow, delicious movement, like warm gold. Dusk’s gaze was complicated as his eyes found hers again. He inhaled to speak – when they were suddenly interrupted by a jovial chuckle.
“Making out in the greenery, cousin? I thought you had a bit more class than that. Ms. Price does, that’s for certain.”
They turned and Layla saw the last person she wanted to be confronted with right now. Adam Rhakvir stood behind them, a roguish smile upon his golden-bearded face. He’d traded out his bombardier look for a classy tan and creme pinstriped vest and slacks, shirtsleeves rolled to his elbows with russet Oxfords. A jade pocket square complemented his irises, his collar undone to the third button. His emerald dragon-ring flashed as he raised a Tom Collins to his lips and sipped. Lecherous like a Roman soldier at a brothel, Adam swirled his drink as he grinned at Layla.
“Dragon Bind.”
“Asshole.” Layla resisted crossing her arms to show her displeasure. Her dress was really too classy for her to act like an irate tween in it.
“Adam!” Dusk turned, clapping Adam’s shoulder with an affable smile, his previous mood banished at his cousin’s arrival, along with his tension with Layla. “Thanks for not accosting Layla with your magics tonight. She’s already had enough from the Storm Queen.”
“Justine got to her, huh? Figures. When there’s power in a room, that woman can’t resist a big old taste.” Adam set his drink aside upon a tall table, glancing from Dusk to Layla.
“You should talk,” Layla soured at Adam, setting her jaw and feeling a hot whip of rage surface. “You accosting me earlier wasn’t too far off from what Justine did just now.”
“Actually…” Adam’s gaze sobered, darkening to a deep hunter-green as it rested upon Layla. “I came over to offer you a formal apology for my behavior earlier.”
“Oh, really?” Layla sassed him, narrowing her eyes.
“Really.” Adam Rhakvir spoke calmly, not rakish at all now but serious. It seemed he had his cousin Adrian’s ability to change emotions on a dime and it made Layla perk, watching him.
Gone was his teasing flyboy demeanor, replaced by something far more sober. And before Layla knew what was happening, Adam had descended to one knee before her. Reaching inside the inner left pocket of his vest, he liberated a small silver knife etched with archaic sigils from a silver sheath. Layla startled, but before she could do anything, Adam had slashed a red line on his left upper chest, over his heart. Layla gaped as Adam reached out, claiming her hand and folding the hilt of the bloodied knife in her fingers. Looking up, his eyes were a searing hunter-green, their ring of violet entirely lost to that dark, sensual color as he regarded her with a scalding intensity.
“Ms. Layla Price. I deeply apologize for my actions at the Concierge desk earlier. It was rash of me to mate-taste you that strongly without your consent. But seeing Adrian’s prize, I fear my emotions ran away with me. Consummating a Royal Dragon Bind to oneself is a rare thing, and I admit, today was one of my baser moments, feeling my Dragon roar with jealousy. My cousin is a lucky man. And you, Ms. Price, are stunning.”
Layla found herself dumbstruck, staring at Adam open-mouthed. Without rising, he gave her fingers a gentle squeeze then let go, leaving the bloodied knife clasped in her hand. She frowned, unsure what to do. Dusk had never prepped her for a formal Dragon-apology, and Layla had a feeling this was over-the-top even for most occasions.
Adam, it seemed, didn’t do anything by halves, and his archaic gesture put Layla up on a pedestal like a Queen.
A position she so did not want.
CHAPTER 7 – ROYALS
Adam Rhakvir waited on one knee before Layla in the crystal hall, the slash on his upper left chest trickling blood. People were staring, a growing circle gathering around Adam, Dusk, and Layla – the Blood Dragons, the Storm Queen with her retinue, the Russians, and others. All eyes were on Layla and the bloodied knife in her hand, watching the interaction with a rising intensity. Through the pounding of her blood, Layla noted the orchestra had ceased playing. Talk had silenced; the entire hall seemed to breathe with a slow-roaring energy as Dragons craned their necks to see what was happening by the drinks table.
“Dusk? Some help?” Layla hissed, knowing that Adam’s display was far more than she had previously thought. The Storm Queen’s gaze flashed upon her with a slight smile, while King Huttr scowled, his frown intense as he glanced between Adam and Layla – though his son Rhennic seemed calm, his violet gaze thoughtful.
“Adam has offered you his life, Layla, for his slight against you earlier today.” Dusk’s voice was calm beside her, but Layla could feel his magic hammering hard behind his crystal barrier – he was as unnerved as she at this sudden situation, though he was expert at keeping his cool. “You can take it now, by slashing the knife in your hand across his throat, and he won’t fight. Or you can forgive him, by licking his blood from the knife and keeping the blade as a gift.”
“Is this usual for a Dragon apology?” Layla hissed back softly.
“No. It’s a very old gesture, and rarely used.” Something in Dusk’s voice was odd, but Layla didn’t want to take her eyes off Adam with everyone staring. “I’d recommend sparing his life. He’s your Clan Second, and Adrian’s right-hand officer. Not to mention Adrian’s cousin.”
“And yours.”
“And mine.” Dusk fell silent, though he stayed near Layla with a supportive hand resting at the small of her back. He wasn’t pouring his soothing charms through her though, letting her make the decision unswayed.
Adam’s blond brows were knitted now as he remained kneeling before her, his gaze careful as if he were worried she actually might kill him, she had paused so long. Layla’s Dragon was strangely quiet inside her, watching him. But killing people wasn’t Layla’s style. Other Dragons could enjoy dominance and bloodshed, but even if her Lineage was vicious, Layla wasn’t going to play ball that way.
