“No, not a date, just time for you to pick my brain about our clan. I won’t try anything like I did today, I swear it.”
Layla looked to Dusk, who gave her a reassuring smile. “If Adam says he won’t try anything, he won’t. Because he knows what I’ll do to him.”
“I do.” Adam chuckled, finishing his drink and setting it aside on a tall table. “Dusk can still beat me senseless in a fight. He’s stronger than he seems, Layla; don’t let his affable nature fool you. He’s a Royal. He just can’t shape-shift for shit.”
“You’re a Royal? Why did you never tell me that?” Layla eyed Dusk. Clearly, he wasn’t very forthcoming about what he could and couldn’t do – nor where he stood in his Crystal Dragon Lineage, which Layla was finally understanding was actually quite far up. So much about the evening suddenly made sense. Their sudden, hard attraction up in her apartment earlier. The reaction of the crowd at their arrival to the party; they way people had bowed to Dusk with such reverence. It wasn’t just because he was the Hotel’s Head Concierge.
It was because he had power – and somehow, everyone knew it.
There was a great, big hole in Layla’s knowledge of him, she realized suddenly. And she was understanding a helluva lot more about Dusk now as she stared at him. Dusk watched her back, and Layla saw iridescence flash through his hair as his cheeks flushed. His sapphire eyes were desperate; whatever secrets he held in addition to having Royal magic, Layla was fairly sure he’d rather not have her know about it.
“Way to be a wingman, Adam.” Dusk spoke, though his eyes remained on Layla.
Adam gave a laugh, clapping Dusk on the shoulder. “Sorry cousin, but you really should embrace that Royal power of yours someday. No matter who’s watching. Excuse me, I see my mother giving me the eyeball.”
Adam moved off, hailing someone that Layla couldn’t see through the throng. Layla faced Dusk, about to ask him what Adam meant, when an elegantly tall man suddenly stepped over to them, and Layla realized it was the same bird-man who had smiled at her in the Hotel the first day she’d arrived.
At least eight feet tall, the bird-man was entirely naked, yet covered in iridescent cobalt down, sleek and glossy. Chained across his lean shoulders, a multi-hued robe of long, curling blue feathers with a high collar cascaded down his exquisitely lean frame, trailing behind him. His long, slender arms were hidden within the sleeves of the robe, but the front was left wide open and baring his unique nakedness, scintillating golden beadwork edging the robe’s long lapels. Raising a sky-blue crest of feathers, the bird-man’s lips twisted into a smile as he approached, his golden eyes piercing Layla with extreme cunning. In her mind, she heard the call of a thousand birds, and Dusk gave a gracious bow of deference as the man arrived.
“King Falliro Arini of the Phoenix of Italy and Spain,” Dusk spoke, deeply reverent but also with a pleased smile as he straightened. “Well met.”
“Dusk Arlohaim, First of the Crystal Dragons of Egypt. Well-met, indeed.” The man nodded his head elegantly, speaking in a melodious, low voice before his gaze pierced Layla. “That was an impressive display earlier, dear heart.”
“King Falliro.” Dusk cleared his throat as he turned to Layla with an elegant gesture. “May I present Ms. Layla Price, Royal Dragon Bind of the Desert Dragons of Morocco and the Mediterranean.”
“Astonishing, truly.” The feathered man bowed low to Layla before she could do so to him, and she blinked, realizing the honor he did her. Making no move to touch her, King Falliro Arini straightened, his golden eyes piercing her to her core; weighing her with exceptional cunning. She had a feeling of centuries from him, as if he was actually the most ancient person in the hall tonight, even including the Storm Queen. As she watched him he gave a subtle smile, his golden eyes piercing but also calm. “When I saw you before in the Hotel’s hall on the day of your arrival, Ms. Price, I felt your call like a Siren in my mind. And now that I face you again, I feel it no less. The power to call a King to do your bidding… it is no small thing, Dragon Bind.”
“I’m sorry?” Layla found herself stymied, having not known her magic had reached out to King Arini when she’d seen him before in the Hotel. It was a problem, she realized, that she didn’t know when her Dragon was reaching out. Layla shifted, uncomfortable, and the Phoenix King saw it. He gave a genial laugh, his bright eyes flashing humor.
“No apology is necessary,” he murmured in his low birdsong voice. “Like us all, you will learn your power eventually. Until then, know that you have an invitation among the Phoenix – to come to my Aviary in Manarola, Italy and visit with me personally. I would love to learn of your human life. It is not every day that we encounter a Dragon raised without magic. I find it… intriguing. Be well, Ms. Price, enjoy the party. And consider my offer. Should you wish to accept, merely bring this with you to Manarola, and you will be guided to me.”
Plucking a downy cobalt feather from over his heart, the Phoenix King placed it in Layla’s palm. His hands were warm as he curled his long, black-taloned fingers around hers, closing her hand upon his gift. With that, he departed, giving a genteel nod to Dusk. Layla found herself confused, having no clue what the interaction had meant.
“What was that?” She turned to Dusk.
Dusk frowned, a strange look upon his face as he watched King Arini go, then stared at the downy feather in her palm. “You just received a personal invitation from King Falliro Arini to visit his Aviary in Manarola.”
“So?”
“So,” Dusk turned to her with astonishment in his gaze. “King Falliro is exceptionally private, Layla. Few outsiders get an invitation to his personal Aviary, his fortress stronghold and the central hub of the Phoenix. I’d keep that feather safe if I were you. It is a rare gift. Not one that even Adrian’s been offered, and he and King Falliro are close allies.”
Glancing at her palm, Layla gazed at the cobalt feather. Other than an exceptional softness and a luminous, iridescent color, it seemed normal. But she tucked it in the cleavage of her gown, in with the silver knife for safekeeping. Dusk opened his mouth to say more, when suddenly a name was announced by the doors.
The one name Layla had been hoping to hear all night – and dreading.
“Adrian Rhakvir, Clan First of the Desert Dragons of Morocco and the Mediterranean, and Head of the Red Letter Hotel Paris!”
Adrian had been announced with no escort. Heat flooding her, Layla could already smell his cinnamon-jasmine scent as it eased through the hall. Stepping past a column, Adrian was glorious in a black smoking-jacket with midnight-blue silk lapels and cuffs. The silk gleamed as he entered the hall, his shirt collar undone with no tie – his stunning aqua eyes on fire with gold as they met Layla’s.
One taste of him; one glance was all it took. Layla’s Dragon roared in a surge of passion, spilling up through her body and hammering straight to Adrian. Moving forward with his hands in his pockets, Adrian was effortless grace and strength, his high cheekbones and short black hair complementing his lean frame, striking jaw, and bare collarbones. Across the distance, their magics careened to each other after being so long denied, searing like wind and sand as they twisted into a fiery coil. Layla felt something enormous ripple over her skin with a rake of talons and fangs as her magic twined deep into Adrian’s, and his into hers. Like Adrian’s Dragon coiled around her, Layla felt muscled heat slide over her skin, roping her and squeezing hard in their searing connection.
Devouring her to her core.
People backed away until an empty path connected Layla to Adrian. She could barely breathe; their magic was so thick as he approached. Thick like searing molasses, thick like a boa constrictor of heat and power coiling all around her. Burning her up though only a cinnamon-jasmine wind swirled around her. Curls of golden flame burst around Layla in a rippling wave, and she felt bare beneath Adrian’s devastating aqua-gold gaze, like she was naked in the hall, wearing only his scales sliding over her skin.
Devouring her from head to heels – even though she was only being devoured by his eyes.
Moving close, Adrian did not touch her but placed himself a mere breath away. Layla was annihilated by his scent and the pounding of her heart as he leaned in, nuzzling his nose in her hair in a gesture both sweet and intimately possessive.
