Page 49 of The Fae King's Labyrinth

“Me,” Ghost responded. The growly tone in his voice resonated through the floor, making my feet tingle. He eyed Azulin.

“It is your story to tell.” The fae king spoke without uncovering his face.

A tap at the door made both males tense.

“Perhaps later,” Ghost said before turning away to rest his massive paw of a hand against the door. Whether to hold it closed or in preparation for opening it, I wasn’t sure. “Ready, sire?”

Azulin rose from his chair and came around to the front of the desk. Straightening his clothing, he composed his features. However, his outward façade of calm didn’t fool me. The tension in him hadn’t eased a fraction, and the magic between us hiccupped uncomfortably.

“I recommend you stay as unobtrusive as possible,” he advised me. “Although dragons are dangerously powerful, both politically and physically, they can be awfully touchy about humans.”

Ghost snorted. “Comes from decades of being offered human sacrifices we had no interest in. And what were we supposed to do with those who didn’t just perish from fright upon our appearance? Make them pets? Shameful wastes of life, every one of them. We are wary of species who do not value their own.”

I moved back to the corner near the couch. I could recall the myths about humans attempting to placate the frighteningly larger species long before we understood they were sentient. We didn’t understand their dual forms until much later.

At a nod from Azulin, Ghost opened the door.

A hazy cloud of smoke rolled into the room ahead of Soren, and a massive male of similar stature and breadth to Ghost entered. But that was where the similarity ended. His headand beard were dark auburn, and this dragon’s strange golden eyes glowed with barely contained intensity. Soren followed the representative inside with agitated haste before Ghost could close the door on him.

“Sire, I must protest.” Soren bowed to Azulin. “This dragon insists he will meet with Ghost alone.”

“Ghost has requested my presence,” Azulin replied, addressing the dragon, not his secretary.

“I come to speak dragon-to-dragon with the son of Grimdaw the Daring on dragon business.” The dragon growled, his nostrils flaring. A grimace contorted his features, as though the scent of the occupants in the room offended his nose. “My words are not for the ears of anyone beyond him.”

“You are dismissed, Soren,” Azulin informed his secretary without even glancing his way.

“But, sire—”

Azulin didn’t even blink. “Your objections have been noted.”

“Yes, sire.” Soren bowed sharply and left, closing the door behind him.

“You and the female too,” the dragon demanded.

Ghost growled from near the door. “They stay.”

“My message is for dragons only.” The strange dragon swung around to confront Ghost. “By what right do you demand their presence?”

Ghost glared at him unflinchingly. “The right of fire and blood.”

The unnamed dragon snorted in derision. The smoke in the room thickened. This time, the scent was subtly different from before. Did each dragon’s smoke smell different? Or did it change with a shifter’s emotions? I would have to ask Ghost about it later.

“Impossible. Delicate fae can’t survive the tests required for such a bond, and puny humans faint at the sight of us.” He bared his teeth at me in a snarl.

I regarded him calmly.

Azulin casually stepped between the dragon and me, blocking his line of sight.

The dragon laughed before turning away from us to face Ghost once more. “Besides, their tender flesh melts when exposed to fire. There is no way that sweet morsel endured the testing.”

The vine on my arm twisted and tightened as it warmed. Azulin fisted and released his marked hand, spreading his fingers wide, as though trying to work out some of the tension in his arm. Stepping closer, I caught the back of his sleeve, hoping my closeness would calm our bond. My tattoo instantly relaxed. Azulin didn’t move away, which I took as a good sign.

Azulin spoke. “I am Ghost’s clutch mate by blood and fire. He owes me his life, and as such, I have a say in any draconic business concerning him.”

The dragon grinned aggressively as he stalked across the room to loom over Azulin. “So, he is your slave.”

“Brother,” Azulin responded as calmly as if he were discussing the weather.

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