Page 63 of Dragons' Future

“Wildcat.” Tavias and Hauck reach us and I throw my arms around them, assuring myself that both are alive. And here. I close my eyes, resting my forehead just below Tavias’s chin and breathing in his scent.

“Not to interrupt the celebration, but maybe you should let everyone up sometime today?” a familiar female voice asks.

I force myself to look over, finding Bianca standing a few feet away, her arms crossed over her chest. Beyond her, at least a third of the courtyard is still kneeling. Bianca rolls her eyes. “Apparently turning into an iridescent lizard is all it takes to get the males to drop to their knees around here.”

I cringe and look pleadingly toward Cyril.

“They are kneeling for you, not me, nymph.”

“A lot of help you are,” I mutter, before shifting my attention to the kneeling crowd. I’ve no notion of what to do with them, so I opt for the direct approach. “Can everyone please get up? And maybe pretend I’m not here for a bit?”

Cyril snorts softly.

Bianca rolls her eyes, which are somehow still lined perfectly with coal. “Really, that’s all you have? Pathetic.” She twists toward the confused looking crowd. The dragons are rising slowly, and everyone looks as unsure of what to do next as I feel. Bianca raises her voice. “Listen up, people. Your queen requires a healer, a bath, and a bedchamber prepared for her and her mates. She’ll address everyone once she’s rested.”

“I will?” I ask, clarifying dubiously, watching as the courtyard crowd starts moving about with a renewed purpose.

“Obviously,” Bianca says. “You’ve been elected queen. What did you expect?”

To die. I’d been expecting to die. Pushing that thought away for now I frown at Bianca. “What are you doing here?”

She shrugs. “I like being on the winning side. Even if that means siding with the likes of you.”

Good to know some things never change. My brows narrow, something tickling my memory. A female voice shouting support from the crowd. Opening the door for other voices to join in. Bianca starts walking away but I grab her arm before she makes it out of reach. “Earlier, when I tried to get the crowd’s attention, did you- ”

She huffs. “Obviously. Men, males, they are all the same. Get them cued in a direction, and they all stampede.”

Cyril raises a brow and Bianca walks off again.

“Thank you,” I call after her softly.

“Don’t,” she says over her shoulder. “I didn’t do it for you. I just like being alive.”

CHAPTER 36

Kit

“Iwill never take being clean for granted again,” I murmur against the warm caress of bathwater. The bathing chamber is officially my favorite room in the palace. It's an enormous indoor natural pool complete with a clever apparatus that flushes in clean water and drains out the soiled. Better yet, it’s large enough to fit the entire pack at once—even Quinton, who is sprawled on the other side of the basin, his knees and arms spread wide and wreathed in shadows.

The rift in the throne room officially closed just over an hour ago, and several of the most powerful dragons in residence were still there fitting a patch over the rip to ensure it doesn’t reopen again. Cleaning crews were going through the palace and messengers have been sent to recall staff from Ettienne’s reign back to their posts. For the time being, we had no where else we had to be. Or maybe we just smelled so badly that the staff conspired to tell us so.

Tavias massages soap into my scalp with powerful fingers and Cyril pours more water atop my head to wash away the soap suds. Shifting my bundle of wet hair to the side, Cyril skims my neck with his mouth. I arch up, which of course brings my hips right into Tavias's hardened length and the male groans with barely restrained control.

"And here I thought you were exhausted," I tease.

He narrows his brows at me. "Would you like to test that theory?" he asks, his voice dropping low before it sounds in my head. And I still have half a mind to take you over my knee, as you yourself mentioned.

A little gasping breath fills my lungs, a surge of need licking the inside of my thighs and low in my belly. The ease with which my body rouses for these gorgeous males is just… wrong. In the best of ways. Cyril wraps his hand around my waist and presses me back against him, his free palm sliding right between my folds.

Stars. I shift my feet, trying to relieve the growing pressure.

Tavias's eyes narrow on mine and he moves in closer. His lips brush my ear, even though he speaks into my mind. Have you ever been spanked on a wet backside? He inquires, his words edged with just the right amount of threat to make a shudder run through me. I've heard the sting is... quite memorable.

My backside tightens, dragging my sex over Cyril’s hand. Oblivious of the conversation Tavias is carrying on with me mind to mind, Cyril slides a finger inside me. I grip him on instinct, grinding against his hand as I try to relieve the ache forming inside my core. Cyril purrs appreciatively and runs his mouth up the scales along the side of my neck.

“You smell like honey today,” he whispers.

I know he means my arousal, because even I can scent it. Especially the way it spikes when Tavias crosses his arms over his broad chest and flexes his hand. Stars. I pray the warmth of the water covers up the flush rushing to my face as Tavias smirks and sends a very wrong image into my thoughts. One that has me bottoms up right here in the bathing pool, with my cheeks pink and my males filling all the right places.

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