His muscles moved like music, not bunching like those on a bulkier man. No, he didn't bunch. He flowed. He glided. The Dragon King of Latur was the most graceful Dragon I'd ever seen, and that grace infused every part of him. He had fucking unearthed a tree like a gods damned dancer. His body didn't bend so much as undulate. His belly rippled in the best ways. And, damn it, there wasn't a drop of sweat on him. I craved his sweat. Prayed for it. That chest could only be improved with water. Droplets clinging to him as they slid down his skin.
“Oh, fuck.”
“Sebastian?”
And his voice. When had it become so velvety? As if I could hold it in my hands and rub it over my naked body. I didn't even have to rub it. It slid over me unbidden, then headed down my pants.
“Sebastian?”
“Yeah, I'm listening,” I murmured.
“You're gawking again.”
“Hey!” I jerked out of my daze and pointed at him. “You can't unveil allthat,”—I waved wildly at his chest like a madman—“pull up a tree like it's a daisy, pluck branches from it like petals, and expect me not to drown in drool! As everyone loves to mention, I'm only human!” I stuck my hands on my hips. “For fuck's sake. I mean look at you! Just look at you. That's not a chest, it's an ode to masculinity. It's a muse to every sculptor on the planet. It's a gods damn orgasm made flesh. And you expect me to look away? Are you insane?”
The Dragon King made a startled sound, then a choking one, then he burst out laughing.
“I'm not even teasing you.” I kept pointing at him. “You're a scoundrel, you know that? A libertine! A fucking scourge on my libido. How dare you come down here and show off that epic chest under the guise of helping me? Howdareyou!”
He paused, eyes widening, then laughed harder.
I grimaced. Then my lips twitched. At last, I joined him. Chuckling, I went to stand beside him, let my arms hang at my sides, and stared balefully at the tree. “I feel so inadequate.”
“Are you commenting on how phallic this tree looks? Because if you are, that's a bit of a stretch.”
It took me a second to process that. I frowned at the tree, then at the King. Then it struck me. “Holy fucking shit! Did you just make a joke?”
“I dearly hope we will soon reach the point where you don't have to ask,” the King drawled.
I snorted. “You're a funny guy, King Shaleros.”
“Am I?” He cocked his head. “I think I was once.”
“You don't lose humor. Life can knock it down in you for a while, but it will eventually resurface.” I went to the flowerbed where the irinae flower was growing and waved at it. “Like this flower, nothing can keep it buried forever.”
“That's a flower?” The King stepped up beside me, then crouched to peer at it.
“It will be an irinae.”
“An irinae,” he whispered.
“Shit, was that her favorite?”
He didn't ask who I meant. We were way past that. “She loved them all.” He looked at me. “How odd.”
“What's that? And don't you dare say my face.”
The King grinned. “It's odd that it's the man who is bringing her garden back to life, a fellow plant lover, who has brought laughter back into my life.”
“Would that make her happy?” I whispered.
“You know, I think it might.” He stared at me long enough to make it awkward, then cleared his throat, and stood up. “Where's the next tree you need cleared?”
I stared up at him a second before I got to my feet. “This way, Your Majesty.”
We were making headway again, but I didn't trust it. You don't overcome a century of guilt and loneliness in a week. The King would falter again. But hopefully, the next time he wavered, I'd be around to steady him.
Chapter Twelve
