Heat flamed my cheeks as those memories bombarded me again. I knew it wasn't my fault. I hadn't done anything willingly. I had no reason to feel ashamed. I knew all of that. But knowledge didn't stop the humiliation from rising. Mental wounds are unreasonable. They don't listen when you try to convince them of the truth. They don't care about truth, only pain.
The things Bara had made me do to him and those he had done to me made a mockery of love. They were barbaric, demeaning, and always about his dominance. With that magical ribbon binding me to him, he didn't have to dominate me. I did whatever he said. But Bara liked to throw my helplessness in my face. I didn't want him, didn't love him, and no matter how submissive I behaved or how much pleasure I gave him, he couldn't forgive my rejection. I was punished for refusing him even as I obeyed his every command. He was a monster—vile, depraved, and merciless. And it was my pretty face that drew him to me.
I hesitated before the door, wanting to turn away and hide under the heavy covers on my bed. But then the image of the Dragon King's face came to me. As I did every morning since coming to the castle, I felt the need to see King Raventar and prove to myself that he was real.
I yanked the door open.
With the sudden action, I caught the King with his stare lowered, his brow pulled down in thought, and his firm lips pressed together. It gave me the briefest moment to look upon him freely. I soaked in his brutal beauty, the very sight of him a balm to my mental wounds. I don't know why he eased me. I should have feared the breadth of his shoulders and the desire I saw in his eyes. After what I'd been through with Bara, thethought of lying with another man should have terrified me. I knew that with anyone else, I'd feel only revulsion at the sight of a hardening shaft tightening a pair of pants. Not with him. King Raventar always tried to hide his body's reaction to me, and maybe that was what calmed me.
There was something about this man. Peace radiated from him. Kindness. He was massive, just enormous, towering over me with muscles slabbed upon muscles. But with his every movement, he conveyed only concern and respect. I never felt threatened by him. And that gave me the courage to appreciate his handsome face, strong body, and stunning eyes. Oh, those eyes. Not quite blue and not quite green—turquoise, like the precious stones Tabaa was known for, or our coastal waters. I'd never seen the sea, but I imagined that the water would be nearly as translucent as the King's eyes—a better match than opaque stones. His Majesty's sun-warmed skin, tinged with gold and cinnabar, brought out the vibrant shade to make his eyes appear as if they glowed even when they didn't.
The Dragon King lifted his gaze, and the beauty of those turquoise eyes made me inhale deeply, as if I could take him into me through my breath alone. This happened every morning. He knocked, I answered, and we stared at each other for a few intense seconds until he spoke and broke the spell.
“Good morning, Eliel,” the Dragon King said, his voice as calming as the rest of him. “Are you hungry?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.” I couldn't stop myself from lowering my gaze to his lips. “I'm starving.”
Did I trust him? Absolutely not. Did I crave him? Absolutely.
Chapter Two
I hated breakfast at the Royal Palace of Tabaa.
Seated beside the Dragon King, I tried to focus on my food instead of the stares of his courtiers. I knew he brought me there because he thought dining among a crowd would make me feel more comfortable than being alone with him. He probably wanted me to start the day with confidence. If only I were brave enough to tell him that I preferred lunch and dinner when we'd dine alone in his private quarters. Only then could I relax and not feel as if I were on display. Bara had loved to display me like one of his bones. “Look at my beautiful consort who obeys my every command.”
Skipping over the stare of a Hulfrin noble, I pressed my lips together to keep them from trembling and lifted my gaze to the ceiling. Thick wooden beams crossed the beige stone up there, supporting brass chandeliers wider than I was tall. Their magical light wasn't necessary at breakfast, when sunlight streamed through the tall, narrow windows running the length of the room on both sides. Still, the lights were on, struggling to be of use.
I knew how they felt.
Servants came up to the table, offering the King more food. Not me. Him. They gave him the platters, and then he offered them to me. That was how it went with every meal, even those we had in private. I understood that it was his food, his bounty to offer, but it still made me feel even more broken than I was.
I glanced at the eager faces of the servants, feeling a tinge of silly jealousy. Not only were they useful, but they also served the King, and he showed great appreciation for their service. Did every Dragon King treat their servants so well? I didn't know, but I doubted it. Bara hadn't shown respect to anyone but other nobles. Even his favorite servant, Hiln, had been treated with the bare minimum of politeness. But King Raventar knew everyone's name and thanked them for every effort they made on his behalf.
Maybe it was an act, but their comfort around him made me think otherwise. He was a good man. I should trust him. I wanted to trust him. Damn Bara for damaging me like this. Even dead, he controlled me.
The King slid a look my way, and I jerked my attention away from him and to the dining hall. Our table was the only one set horizontally against the back wall. All the others stood in two neat vertical lines along the side walls, near the open windows. Too many eyes were on me, so I focused on the view out a window on my right. Treetops added some greenery to the upper-floor view. Beyond them were the barracks and then the palace wall. The King's Horns patrolled the walls, dressed in their uniforms with the crest of Tabaa on the arms—a gold eagle on a black background. I was safe there. All of those men were protecting the King, but I sat beside the King. I was safe. So, why couldn't I relax?
“Eliel?” the King's deep, resonant voice rippled over my skin.
How could he sound so powerful and so gentle at the same time?
“Yes, Your Majesty?” I glanced at the King's eyes, but his gaze was too intense, so I focused on his chin.
“Why do you lower your eyes like that?”
Surprised, I jerked my gaze up to his. “I thought it was proper etiquette.”
“If it makes you comfortable, that's fine, but I'd prefer it if you'd meet my gaze when we speak.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
King Raventar reached for me. I tensed. His hand hovered over my shoulder and then withdrew.
“Eliel, it wasn't a command. I want you to feel at ease around me. I want you to feel at home here.” He leaned down so that our heads were closer to the same height. “What would make you more comfortable?”
“I'm fine, Your Majesty. Very comfortable. You have done so much for me. Thank you.” I swallowed past the dryness in my throat that always occurred when I looked at him.
“Please, if there's anything you need or want, tell me.”
