“That sounds perfect. Thank you again for all your help, Jarek.”
“Anytime. We want you to feel at home here.”
After he left, Lila stood alone in her suite, turning the communicator over in her hands while her thoughts churned. The weight of what she’d undertaken was beginning to settle on her shoulders like a heavy cloak.
This might be the toughest case of my career.
And not just because of Draven’s complex psychological condition. The real challenge would be maintaining her professional boundaries while every instinct told her to get closer to the enigmatic king who’d awakened something dangerous and wonderful in her heart.
Another sharp knock echoed through her suite, jolting Lila from her increasingly inappropriate thoughts about Draven.
Get it together, Lila.
She crossed to the door, grateful for the interruption before her imagination wandered into truly dangerous territory. A young woman stood in the corridor—petite but confident, with striking auburn hair and intelligent hazel eyes that seemed to assess everything at once.
“Dr. Reyes? I’m Nyra Solace, your personal assistant while you’re staying with us.” Her smile was warm but professional. “I hope you don’t mind the late hour, but I thought we should get acquainted before tomorrow.”
“Please, call me Lila. And not at all—I was just settling in.” She stepped aside to let Nyra enter. “Though I have to say, I don’t really need a personal assistant.”
“King Draven insisted.” Nyra’s tone carried subtle notes of respect and protectiveness. “My job is to help you navigate the castle, to get you acquainted with our clutch ways and Nova Aurora, and coordinate with His Majesty’s schedule during your stay.”
His Majesty.
The formal title reminded Lila of the vast gulf between her world and Draven’s. She was a trauma psychologist from Santa Monica; he was a dragon king ruling an entire alien territory.
“Speaking of his schedule, I need to discuss reducing his workload significantly while we work together.” Lila settled into the sitting area, gesturing for Nyra to join her. “His condition requires minimal stress and intensive therapy sessions.”
Nyra’s expression grew skeptical. “I can certainly convey that message, but King Draven isn’t exactly known for stepping back from his responsibilities.”
“Then we’ll have to convince him that his health is the kingdom’s priority right now.”
Something flickered in Nyra’s eyes—approval mixed with concern. “You don’t know him very well yet, do you?”
“I know enough to recognize someone on the verge of a breakdown.” Lila’s clinical instincts sharpened. “And I know that stubborn patients require creative approaches.”
Nyra chuckled. “Well, you’ll certainly need creativity with him. Shall we grab dinner? I can fill you in on what you’re dealing with here.”
Twenty minutes later, they were seated in an elegant restaurant overlooking the pink sea. The establishment buzzed with quiet conversation and the soft clink of crystalline glasses. Lila marveled at how the interior seamlessly blended high-tech conveniences with organic dragon aesthetics—molten glass fixtures that seemed to flow like lava, obsidian tables veined with gold, and furniture that looked carved from volcanic stone yet felt surprisingly comfortable.
This place feels ancient and futuristic simultaneously.
“So,” Nyra began, cutting into something that resembled beef but tasted richer. “What exactly did Gerri tell you about our king?”
“The basics about his condition, but not much about the man himself.” Lila sipped her wine—Sidaii, Nyra had called it—and tried not to wince at the unexpected potency. “How long has he been struggling?”
“Officially? A few months. But those of us close to him have noticed the signs for years.” Nyra’s expression grew grim. “He became king at sixteen when his father died unexpectedly. Queen Serenya guided him, but the responsibility aged him fast.”
Sixteen.Lila’s chest tightened. “That’s an enormous burden for someone so young.”
“Dragon culture demands strength above all else. Showing vulnerability isn’t really an option for kings.” Nyra paused, choosing her words. “His condition affects unmated male dragons, especially those under extreme stress.”
“Unmated?” The word slipped out before Lila could stop it.
Nyra’s knowing look made heat climb Lila’s neck. “Dragons have fated mates. Without that bond, the fire in their blood becomes... unstable. Dangerous.”
Fated mates?
“The council keeps pressuring him to choose someone soon and see if that will help his condition,” Nyra continued. “There’s a particular councilor, Veyra, who’s been quite persistent lately to fill that role.”
