Page 46 of Fated for his Flame

“Slut,” Isaak muttered under his breath as I neared him.

Silas’ forearm tensed under my fingers.

Be strong. Don’t take shit from anyone.

The words echoed in my head as I came to a halt, noting the way those nearby reacted, having also heard the derogatory insult hurled at me from the youngest son of the house.

I knew what I had to do. If I was going to be the mate to the future head of the most powerful house in the dragon kingdom, I could not let myself be talked to like that in such a public setting.

Shit.

Dropping my hand from Silas’ arm, I faced the youngest son directly, scanning him from head to toe, making sure my expression showed my disdain. He wasn’t much. Though shorter than many of the others, he was still half a foot taller than me, but his hair was thin and somewhat scraggly, without the shiny luster the other dragons seemed to sport. He had a weak chin, and his attempt to grow facial hair to hide it didn’t help, given the spotty nature of his beard.

“Do you care to repeat what you just said loud enough for all to hear?” I said, raising my voice so the hushed crowd would all hear. “Or do you only operate by hurling insults under your breath like a coward?”

I let the challenge hang in the air. Caine and Seth both bared their teeth, eager to intercede, but they knew better. Knew they couldn’t. The original insult had been heard by enough others there was no escaping it.

Isaak, too young and stupid and proud to know better, stepped forward, baring his teeth. “Slut,” he repeated louder.

Crack!

My hand came up, open-palmed, and slapped his cheek with all the force I could muster. He recoiled, more in shock than pain, I was sure, while the crowd gasped.

“I should have known to expect those sorts of manners from you,” I said coldly. “Given your upbringing. But I would’ve thought someone would’ve taught you to not say such things in public.”

Before anyone else could react, I slipped my hand back through Silas’ arm, and we were off.

Caine’s glare promised retribution, but I couldn’t let that sway me. Not now.

“Was that strong enough?” I asked Silas as we neared the sovereign, the crowd and music completely silent now.

He leaned over to whisper in my ear. “I am so hard right now. I want you.”

I coughed politely into a fist to cover my surprise at his vulgarity—not that I minded, I just wasn’t expecting it. “Oh, well, okay then. I guess I did good.”

“More than good.”

We stopped in front of the sovereign with a bow and a curtsey. She eyed us both, her eyes lingering on me for an extra heartbeat or two. Then she smiled. Not big but enough.

With a finger, she pointed at the musicians and called for a return to the music, which had ceased during the altercation. The sounds swirled up, and after another few moments, people began to break off, sensing the drama was over for the moment, and nothing more would happen.

“That was bold of you,” the sovereign commented once we were alone.

“Perhaps,” I said with a shrug, emboldened by her support and the adrenaline still surging through me. “I suspect it’s less than what a dragon woman would have done.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” the leader of all dragons said, the left side of her face breaking into a brief smile. “Some, perhaps, but certainly not all.”

“He deserved it,” Silas said. “If she hadn’t, I would have wiped the smug smile off his face for him.”

“You already invite problems with her reaction,” the sovereign pointed out.

“That was coming no matter what,” he said defensively. “Watching her slap that uppity prick in front of everyone was exactly what he deserved.”

“I will have no blood shed at my peace gala,” the sovereign emphasized sternly, inching her head to look down at Silas.

“You know me, my Sovereign. I will not seek out or start anything,” Silas said. “But if they come for me, I will defend myself.”

“And if they come for her?” the leader of all dragonkind asked, pointing a finger at me.

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