Her head felt fuzzy as she realized she was still wearing her beaded gown from the evening. Blinking around, Layla saw she lay on a pile of feather duvets and ornate throw-pillows, plus an assortment of soft fur rugs. It was like a makeshift nest, pelts of alpaca and lambswool beneath the pillows. A slide of coils moved inside her as her Dragon woke. It stretched and Layla felt its contentment; as if there was no place it would rather be than in this cozy, dark space.
As she reached up to touch her head, wondering if it was Dusk who had brought her down here, Layla suddenly realized someone reclined next to her in the half-dark. But rather than Dusk’s clear river-water scent, a smell of orchard blossoms and honey lingered in the air and Layla inhaled, knowing who it was.
“Adam… what happened?”
She turned toward him as she pushed slowly up to a seat so her head didn’t reel, making out Adam’s face in the half-light. He reclined on one elbow beside her, his green eyes dark as he watched her. Still dressed in his tux from the party, he wore a classic black jacket, his black bow-tie undone over his white shirt. His collar was open and Layla could smell his apple-sweet scent easing from his tanned skin, his ash-blond hair mussed. His French cuffs were pinned with glossy onyx stones, and he wore his malachite and emerald ring but that was all – the luminous darkness of his eyes his only true ornament.
As those eyes devoured Layla, taking her in, he reached out, smoothing his fingers over her thigh where her leg was bared from the slit in her gown. A soft sigh came from his lips. Soothing and deep, his energy was like a combination of Dusk’s patience and Adrian’s ardor, though with a strange, ancient stillness. Layla thought she saw beasts of legend roar in his eyes for a moment; dark and green like the deepest forest. His fingers caressed her skin in long, flowing movements – and for some reason, Layla didn’t want to pull away.
“Your men were fighting again, after you left.”
Adam spoke softly, not with his usual bravado but a smooth voice and deep tones that Layla could have listened to forever. That calm voice eased between the crystal columns with his orchard-blossom scent; soothing. She found herself recalling everything that had happened after Adrian’s wrath and Reginald’s power. Layla remembered leaving for the horse barn and how Adam had found her. And the strange fugue he’d put her in to bring her down here. But as if her fugue wasn’t entirely gone, Layla found herself mesmerized by Adam’s presence now and his touch, and it took two tries before she could speak.
“So you brought me down here to keep me safe?”
“I brought you down here so we could be alone, Layla.”
“Why do you want to be alone with me?” Layla still felt like she reeled in a nexus world of heady magics and strange dreams. Somehow, Adam had brought this nest of fluffy stuff from the Hotel down into its deepest basement – not on the flat rose quartz flow, but tucked deep within the forest of columns near the underground stream. Water burbled nearby, a simmering light easing through the crystal pillars. Layla realized the nest was set between pillars of pure emerald, though it was a strange, dark shade like Adam’s eyes.
Adam gave a soft laugh at her question, a smile lifting his lips. His gaze flicked down to where he brushed his fingertips over Layla’s bare thigh, watching his fingers trail over her skin. Layla shivered, the sensation suddenly deeply erotic. He’d not done anything, yet now Layla’s Dragon was on high alert, a luscious sensation of energized sensuality pouring through her. Dusk could shiver her into thinking about sex, Adrian could scald her there, but Adam simply heightened her awareness – until every molecule of her skin was suddenly drinking in his presence and his smooth, intoxicating scent.
He watched her as he kept tracing patterns on her thigh. Layla was breathing hard now, her heartbeat rapid, her pulse pounding in her throat and groin. Adam had done nothing, yet her body suddenly wanted him with the kind of rushing pleasure she’d previously only felt with Adrian and Dusk. Yet here he was, the third of three Royal Dragons whom her magic was calling – stirring her body into the most intense pleasure she’d ever known.
Layla’s breath caught as Adam’s hand slid up her thigh, stopping just short of the beaded hem. Slipping out, he caressed his fingertips over the fabric and Layla stiffened with a gasp, a ripple of pleasure sliding through her so hard it made her eyelids flutter.
“I want to be alone with you,” Adam murmured, watching her, “because I want to show you who I am.”
“Adam… what?” Layla blinked, confused and inundated with pleasure from his touch. “What’s going on?”
“My name is not Adam,” he breathed softly, in a strange accent that was quite suddenly not Adam’s at all. “And I never was part of the Rhakvir family.”
With that, his face suddenly changed. Layla watched it morph in a ripple of light, until it was the young financial guy from the bar in Seattle. The one with kind hazel eyes and black shaggy hair who’d ordered a Tom Collins and apologized for his asshat coworkers. She was staring at the same man who had offered her a ride home that night and whom she had seen again at Club Havana. Layla blinked hard, realizing Adam’s scent had changed to odors of whisky and shampoo and aftershave and all the normal things human men smelled of.
And lemons swirled into gin.
Layla’s breath caught and his face rippled again – to the sexy young chauffeur who had been there to greet Adrian’s Learjet as it landed at the Paris airport. And then it rippled again, to the one-eyed Lorio with the fierce scar and silver streaks at his temples and beard. And then his face rippled to a man Layla didn’t recognize – an austere man with silver-white eyes that reminded Layla of a combination of Reginald and Sylvania. And then back to Adam – his apple-blossom scent returning in a curl of honey-soft wind.
His hand paused on her thigh, as Adam’s dark eyes watched her once more.
“You’re the void-shadow!” Layla breathed, afraid now, though he’d made no move to harm her.
“I am the shadow in the evening.” His gaze was level as he spoke, his voice low and smooth. “I am the void in the darkness. I am the man with a thousand faces. I am the Hunter in the night. And I would very much like to make your acquaintance, Royal Dragon Bind. First true resurgence of my Lineage in a thousand years.”
Layla’s breath stopped. Her mind stopped. She could do nothing but stare at him, all thought and emotions fled. This was the man the Phoenix King had warned her about. This was the shadow that had killed Adrian’s mother and his lovers and had haunted Layla’s birth. This was the Royal Dragon that could make himself disappear so utterly from notice that he left only a sensation of a shadow upon the vibrations of the world.
And he had just told Layla he was a Royal Dragon Bind.
“YourLineage?” Layla breathed, astounded.
“My Lineage.” He agreed. Adam’s eyes lit with delight, pleasure shining from him. “For I am its oldest living member, and you are the most recent birth of that Lineage, Layla Price. Mimi Zakir renewed our ancient magics in her mixed blood, mating with the renegade Dragon of Seven Winters as she did. But our Lineage is as old as the roots of the mountains. Only because of being hunted have we diminished. The Royals of your Lineage still exist, hidden through the faceless ages. And where we were once hunted, we have become the Hunters. I have come here tonight to ask you – will you join with the Hunters, your own ancient kin? Or will you side with those who tear us down – and become the Hunted?”
Layla reeled, taking it in. Knowing suddenly that this creature before her was millennia old, and that he was both a Royal Dragon and a Royal Dragon Bind. Something elegant and ancient, dangerous and cunning – something that had survived the purges and persecution against Layla’s Lineage down through the ages.
Power, so much power surged around her from the Hunter’s body. And all of it so carefully contained that he could send a curl of wind sighing delicately over her lips, brushing them like a kiss, before disappearing.
Layla’s breath stopped; her heart stopped – wondering just what exactly he was asking of her. “But… you murdered Adrian’s mother. You tried to kill the Phoenix King. You hunted me when I was a baby, terrifying Dusk with your dreams. Why? What do you want?”
His green eyes darkened, to a look that shivered Layla with tension, though he’d changed nothing about his posture. “I want you to think about where you belong, Layla. The young drakes have bound you; they were clever in their machinations to chain a creature of power to their hearts. But to a drakaina of rage and purpose such as I feel flowing through you, those Binds are a paltry thing. Miscalculate your way through the world, stumbling and burning hearts… or come stand by my side. Learn what your magic can truly do, from a teacher who has lived all the mistakes you will ever make. Come to me, and I will show you how to make others sing to your magic. So we can make a world that will never harm another one of us, ever again.”
