Page 47 of The Dragon of her Dreams

“Instead of you?” I whispered, reaching for my poor head. “Are you serious?” My quiet words were at odds with the turmoil churning inside my mind. My heart was thundering like a jackhammer in my chest, and adrenaline zinged along my veins like white-hot lightning.

Every instinct in me wanted to run. Hell, I wanted tofight. But who was the enemy in this situation? It didn’t seem there was one. There was just the proposal of an insane notion—nothing more, nothing less.

Vanya’s hand slid over my thigh.

I jerked my head over to stare at her.

She was giving me an encouraging smile but there was worry in her eyes also, as well there should be.

This was the last thing I’d expected to hear tonight. Theverylast.

“Ahhh...” I said, at an utter loss for words for the moment.

Veronica snorted out a laugh. “You’re right, Mom. He definitely didn’t come here to steal the crown. It doesn’t even look like he wants it.”

“I don’t!” I immediately said without really thinking first.

My father’s face fell.

I regretted my thoughtless reply instantly. “I’m sorry, that came out wrong. I mean—”

“It’s all right,” Cass said, reaching over to take hold her husband’s hand. “We didn’t expect you to feel so strongly about it, but I guess you’ve had a lot longer to think about all of this than us.”

I nodded, gulping loudly, though they were way off the mark. I’d never thought about it. It wasn’t my place. I was the bastard son, the one raised in poverty, far beyond the privilege and airs of the royal family.

Theo leaned forward in his seat, gaining my attention. He had a big frown on his face. “But... why?” he pushed, a note of desperation in his voice. “You’re the oldest, by far. And you have the tattoo.”

“So do you,” I said, pointing out the obvious.

Doesn’t the kid want the crown he was born to? This makes no sense. He’s the legitimate heir.

Theo’s smile was lopsided. “Yeah... I do. And I love my family and my people, but I’ve never looked forward to being king. I’m not a natural-born leader like you. You’re a Northman in the truest sense.”

I scoffed at him, slugging back my whiskey. “Not a natural? Are you kidding me? I felt like a freak at the party the other night, whereas you fit in everywhere.”

“But that’s not what being king is about,” Damon interjected reasonably, his voice heavy.

I rounded on him, an irrational panic building in my chest. “But that’s part of it, isn’t it? The meetings and the royal family parties and gatherings. I grew up starving and angry at the world. I’m not meant to run a fucking kingdom!”

“Jaegar...”

I took note of the warning tone in Vanya’s voice but ignored it and decided to address the whole table. “I like building houses. I like looking after my neighbors. I like getting my hands dirty. I don’t want to sit on some fat pillow in a grand hall and dish out advice to people.”

Damon’s face flushed red.

Before he could speak, Cass sighed pointedly. “I wish Stavrok was here.”

“Why?” I demanded, wanting to know her reasoning. “So, I can feel even more inferior than I do already?”

“No!” she snapped back, unperturbed by my temper or abrasiveness. “Because my cousin would tell you that you’re much more like Damon than you can ever imagine!”

I stood up abruptly, Vanya’s hand falling from my lap and the chair making a loud, scraping noise on the polished floor. “I’m not you!” I practically yelled at my father. “And I never will be. So, just stop... all of you, okay? And leave me alone.”

The sound of soft footfalls following me out into the hallway had me turning around with clenched fists, a fire burning in my gut as I turned to confront whoever it was.

Vanya jumped back from my fury, her hands upraised in a calming gesture.

I forced myself to calm down. “Sorry,” I breathed, barely containing what so desperately wanted to erupt out of me now. “I had to get out of there.”

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