Before she could argue, he pulled out his communicator and contacted the kitchen staff. Within minutes, a parade of servantsappeared at the door carrying silver trays laden with fresh fruit, warm pastries, eggs, and Nova Aurora bacon that smelled like heaven.
The kitchen staff’s eyes widened when they took in the scene—their king disheveled and obviously having spent the night in the human psychologist’s room, while she sat in bed wearing nothing but a slip. Their gazes darted between Draven and Lila with barely concealed shock.
Draven fixed them with a look that could have melted steel. “Is there a problem?”
“No, Your Majesty,” the head cook stammered, quickly setting down the trays and ushering the others out. “Not at all.”
The door closed with a soft click, leaving them alone again.
“You’re going to cause quite the scandal,” Lila said, but she was already reaching for a piece of fruit with obvious hunger.
“Let them talk.” He sat back in his chair, watching with amusement as she devoured her breakfast like she hadn’t eaten in days.
She paused mid-bite of a flaky pastry. “This is incredible. I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything so delicious.”
“Keep drinking water too,” he instructed, refilling her glass. “It’ll help with the headache.”
“Thank you.” Her voice was soft, almost wondering. “For last night, for this morning, for being so kind and caring. I don’t think anyone’s ever taken care of me like this.”
Because no one else is worthy of you.
“You’re worth the attention and care, Lila.” The words came out rougher than he’d intended, loaded with all the possessive tenderness he couldn’t quite hide.
She studied his face for a long moment, and he could practically see the wheels turning in her brilliant mind. “Can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“Why haven’t you chosen a mate yet? I mean, you’ve been king for eighteen years. You’re handsome, powerful, caring—any woman would be foolish not to want to be with you.”
His chest tightened at the innocent question.
If only you knew how long I’ve been searching for you, Lila.
“I’ve had plenty of women express interest in filling that role,” he admitted. “But I’ve been holding out for something more. Something like what my parents had.”
“A hopeless romantic dragon king,” she teased, her eyes sparkling. “Who would have thought?”
“Guilty as charged.” He couldn’t help but smile at her playful tone. “I want the fairy tale love they shared. That all-consuming, soul-deep connection where you can’t imagine existing without the other person. I want the woman who makes me feel truly alive.”
Her expression grew more serious, her eyes searching his face. “So what does that mean for us? Because last night you said you’d been waiting your entire life for someone to look at you the way I look at you. Does that mean something special? Am I special to you?”
Her questions hung in the air between them. Every cell in his body wanted him to tell her the truth, to explain about fated mates and the bond that had snapped into place the moment they touched.
Tell her the truth. She deserves to know.
But as Draven opened his mouth to speak, his mind suddenly erupted in chaos. The political implications crashed into him like a freight train—what would the council say about a human mate? How would the clutch react to an outsider as their queen? What if she rejected him and fled back to Earth, leaving him worse than before?
Then came the deeper fears, eighteen years of accumulated terror and doubt. His father’s mysterious death flashed beforehis eyes, followed by his mother’s devastating grief when she lost her mate. The way she’d crumpled, barely functional for months while he’d tried to hold the kingdom together as a teenager.
What if I lose Lila the same way? What if loving her destroys us both?
The room began to spin violently. His chest constricted like an iron band was tightening around his ribs, cutting off his air supply completely. His heart hammered against his ribcage so hard he was certain it would burst.
I can’t breathe. I can’t breathe. I’m dying.
His hands flew to his throat as panic consumed him entirely. The walls seemed to close in, the ceiling pressing down until the room became a suffocating box. Every nerve in his body screamed with terror as his vision tunneled to a pinpoint.
This was it. This was how the great dragon king would die—not in battle, but from his own cowardice.
