Even if Adam had forced her into a public acceptance of his antics earlier.
Pinning Adam with her eyes and making him feel how royally pissed off she was at being manipulated this way, Layla raised the silver knife to her lips. Dragon blood was remarkably free of disease; she wasn’t going to catch anything. But the iron scent of Adam’s offering mixed with his heady apple orchard fragrance made Layla pause. She’d never tasted anyone’s blood before, but her Dragon uncoiled inside her, raising its head eagerly toward the blade. In a hot wave, it took control of Layla’s lips, making her open her mouth and gently draw the blade through, licking Adam’s blood from the silver with the tip of her tongue.
It was divine. Layla paused deeply as she tasted him – as if she could taste all of him in that one scintillating line of crimson. Dusk’s hand was the only thing steadying her from sinking to the floor and trying to crawl to Adam, to rip into him with talons and fangs as she shuddered, her head falling back. A sweet orange and bourbon scent flooded from her and Dragons came alert all around, some drawn closer by her seething scent, some moving back with wide eyes. Layla barely registered that Dusk now gripped her by both arms, holding her back from Adam.
And that she was fighting him, trying to get to the Royal Dragon still kneeling on the floor.
Adam watched her with an answering heat shining in his hunter-green eyes – an unmistakeable look. As if he had planned this; as if he had planned all this just to get Layla to taste one drop of his apple-sweet blood. To make her want him; to make her fight to get to him. But he was holding onto his own magic as furiously as Dusk, remaining motionless in his kneeling position before her. He wouldn’t go to her; he wanted her to come to him. Seeing that knowledge in his eyes, Layla gathered herself at last. Staring down at Adam, she seethed with heat that had nothing to do with passion, furious at the depth of his games.
“Adrian doesn’t own me; we haven’t consummated anything.” She spoke down to Adam coldly, rage flooding her. “And if you think you’ll have a try, you are sadly mistaken, bucko. No matter what your blood tastes like.”
Adam Rhakvir’s green eyes went wide as he laughed in astonishment at Layla’s response. It was a strong laugh, ending in a sexy chuckle. He didn’t seem perturbed that Layla was boiling mad at him, and didn’t seem to care how deeply he’d manipulated her – only that it had nearly gotten him everything he wanted. Layla was still fuming as they locked gazes, and at last Adam showed a little contrition. Setting a hand over his heart, his skin already ceased bleeding since his cut hadn’t been all that deep, he gave a low bow, lowering his gaze like he meant it.
“Forgive me. I have a flare for the dramatic, as do most Dragons.” He murmured, rising and giving Layla a softer, more genuine smile at last. “I can see you don’t appreciate it. But I like your spirit, Layla Price. And if Adrian hasn’t consummated anything with you yet, he’s a fool. I have a feeling that binding you will bequitea lot more than my cousin bargained for.”
“Layla’s not one to piss off lightly, Adam. Fuck with her at your own risk.” Dusk gave Layla a look as he released her and stepped to her side. Tension had eased around them now and Layla saw smiles all around. A polite ripple of clapping passed through the crowd at what had just happened, and Layla had a feeling it had been a good show. People returned to milling, though a number of eyes remained on her – especially the Storm Queen’s.
“Laugh it up, boys.” Layla gestured at both Dusk and Adam with the bloodied knife, though she was less pissed now that the show was over almost as suddenly as it had begun. It had been a manipulation, but it seemed Adam’s little event had evened the score between himself and Layla as far as the clans were concerned. An extreme offering, it had somehow put her in a higher social position than him, at least for now. But having no idea what to do with the silver knife, she lifted an eyebrow at Adrian’s renegade cousin.
“If you want me to keep this blade, jackass, then hand that sheath over.”
“As you wish.” With a cheeky grin, Adam handed over the silver sheath. She scowled at his intentional quoting of thePrincess Bride– so not cool right now. Looking daggers at Adam, Layla slid the knife in the sheath, then tucked it down her cleavage. The blade still had blood on it, but she’d wash that off later. Glancing between them, Layla realized that both Adam and Dusk were grinning like brigand brothers.
“You two are just a couple of peas in a pod, aren’t you?” Layla grumped.
“Don’t be pissed, Layla,” Dusk spoke calmly, his gaze level with her though he was unable to stifle his smile. “Adam’s offering right now gave you a lot of clout with the clans. It was a dumb idea, but also kind of genius – I wish I had thought of it, actually. He’s shown them that you hold higher standing than he does, which is saying something as a Clan Second. It automatically bumps you up to the level of a Second or almost a First, even though you’ve fought no dominance battles. Adam essentially provided you with one, right now, in public. And you won.” Dusk glanced to Adam, who was now grinning at his cousin with reckless pleasure.
“What can I say? I have good ideas now and again.” Adam retrieved his drink from the side-table and had a sip, grinning at Layla.
“And pulling me with your magic to get me to crawl to you like an animal?” Layla did cross her arms over her chest now, giving him a severe eyeball.
“A man can but try.” He chuckled darkly. “In any case, you resisted just fine, even without Dusk’s help. He could have stopped it. His magic is stronger than mine, you know.Thatone was constantly encasing me in crystal cocoons I couldn’t get out of when we were kids.”
“Until aunt Rachida blasted you out of them, then tanned my backside.” Dusk chuckled, glancing at Adam as he sipped his wine. He turned to Layla. “Adam, Adrian, and I were all raised together. Adam’s the youngest, I’m in the middle, Adrian’s the oldest. Adam’s adopted like I am, by Adrian’s great-aunt Rachida Rhakvir when his parents were killed at their home in Florence.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Layla blinked, wondering if any of the Dragons in her clan had normal pasts. She was betting not. She was learning that Dragons were tempestuous creatures and held intense grudges. And that Dusk’s adoption into Adrian’s clan had actually been a rare thing.
“Don’t be sorry. It’s ancient history. But I appreciate the sentiment.” Adam’s eyes were serious now, a dark hunter-green with very little violet. “My parents were cursed; a Romeo and Juliet situation. My mother was from the Italian Desert Dragon clan, my father was a Blood Dragon from Copenhagen. The Danish Blood Dragons and the Italian Desert Dragons have been at each other’s throats a long time. My father was actually sent as an assassin to kill my mother, but he fell in love with her instead and they had me. When the Copenhagen clan decided to finish the job a few years later, the hit included him, and me.”
“The Copenhagen Blood Dragons tried to assassinate you?” Layla sipped her drink, her fury cooling as she listened to the tale.
“When I was a child.” Adam smiled wryly. “I was supposed to die the day they busted into our fortress. But I shape-shifted for the first time out of terror – into a dog! I was so little and so scared they missed me, hiding under the bed. Rachida was the one who figured it out when she came to assess the carnage. She lured me out with bacon. It took me a full month for me to figure out I could change back to human. She took me back to Morocco and the rest is history. I was raised with this asshole, and with Adrian.”
Adam jostled Dusk and grinned. Layla felt terrible hearing of Adam’s past, though it was fascinating. With his tall, striking blond looks and amazing green-violet eyes, she believed that he was a Danish-Italian Dragon mix – a very handsome combination.
“Are there many Dragons of mixed Lineage?” She asked, sipping her wine.
“Not so many,” Adam answered with a small smile. “Clan feuds are rampant. Something Adrian wants to rectify, and I support him in that.”
“You’re his Second, and also a Royal?” Layla asked, cocking her head. “Why does Adrian lead the Mediterranean clan and not you?”
“I can’t shape-shift into much more than dogs, can I?” Adam snorted with a self-deprecating grin, but there was truth in the subtle pain behind his eyes. “Adrian’s not filled you in on our clan history, has he?”
“Not so much.”
“Would you like to hear it?” Adam’s gaze sobered, his eyes searching Layla’s. “I’d love to answer any questions you have, Layla. Perhaps we could have dinner tomorrow night. You could ask me any question you have concerning Desert Dragons, and I’ll fill you in.”
“Not like a date.” Layla lifted an eyebrow, suddenly wondering if all this was just an elaborate ruse for him to try and get her in the sack. But Adam laughed, and still there was no trace of his heated magics. In fact, his pleasant apple-blossom scent issued from him only subtly now, like picking fruit on a sunny day.
