Page 36 of Brutal Dragon King

The handle doesn't move when I try it. After a few failed attempts, I take a step back to inspect the dummy door. Surely, there must be something behind it, something that's being hidden, something important enough to create a door that cannot be opened by the handle.

“Magick?” I ponder under my breath, waving my hands over the door. My finger lightly brushes a camouflaged button, and my heart begins to race with anticipation. With a coy smirk curling my lips, I push the button and just as I suspected, the door swells out as it lifts on hydraulic hinges, then parts to the side automatically.

It reveals a small room, as narrow as the door, and much shallower than the bathroom beside it. I flip the switch near my face, flooding the tiny expanse with white light that illuminates the neatly organized shelves full of weapons. I gasp, stepping inside and walking amongst the swords and daggers. There's one for each floating shelf, displayed like ornaments and flaunted with metal plaques that bear names like “Vampire Slayer,” “Panther Blade,” and “Dragonclaw Dagger.”

The “Dragonclaw Dagger” captures my attention, and standing on my tiptoes, I reach for the smaller knife that's only a few centimeters longer than my hand. It's heavier than I expected, the cast-iron handle adding to the weight of a polished silver blade. Turning it over in my palm, my heart races now with a flicker of hope.

Is this another stroke of luck that landed this piece in my palm? Is this how I make the dragon king pay for what he did to my family?

The only indication that this dagger is meant to harm a dragon is by its name. I reach for the shelf, patting the surface for any other clues, but find nothing.

Dragonclaw? Every other weapon in this room seems to be a lethal weapon forged to hurt a certain kind of creature, the names giving away their purpose.

This must be it, I decide with a proud smirk, murmuring praises to the higher power that must be on my side tonight. First, the uninterrupted tread back to the palace after the ritual was consummated, now this.

Someone must have taken kindly to me.

Tucking the dagger firmly in one hand, I turn off the light in the dragon king's hidden weapons inventory, then step out and click the camouflaged button to secure the door back in place. Snapping my head from one side to the other, I scan the surroundings of the king's bedroom as if I'm a spy on the most important mission of my life. Tiptoeing back to the main door, I take a deep breath before stepping out in the open and closing the king's bedroom door behind me.

Once I'm back in the guest bedroom safely, without being caught, I heave a sigh of relief and stare down at the heavy dagger in my hands. I'll figure out a way to use it against the dragon king, but I have to hide it for now.

I rush to the bed, pushing the mattress away from the headboard and shoving the dagger behind it. When I push the mattress back in place, I breathe another sigh of relief to calm my racing heart. Satisfied that no one will find the weapon—since I'm a slave and the servants never visit to clean the bedroom—I take off my robe and slip into bed.

Armed with a weapon that could potentially harm the king, or worse, I let sleep wash over me with a boastful smile on my face.

***

“Beautiful…”Haidën's voice enters my mind, and I snap my eyes open again, groaning from the frustration of not being able to sleep.

When I hopped into bed, I thought the events of last night, coupled with the excitement of finding the dagger, would lead me into a deep sleep to cure my exhaustion. But I'd spent most of the morning tossing and turning despite the thick curtains keeping the sunlight out.

I've been restlessly revisiting the events that occurred out on that mountain. Seeing King Haidën's face behind my eyelids every time I closed my eyes, or feeling his touch on my body every time I fell into that chasm between sleep and wakefulness.

Groaning at the ceiling, I press my fingers to my temples. My body ignited with heat reminiscent of the heat that flowed through my being when I was naked in front of the king. I don't want these plaguing memories, yet I can't get rid of them no matter how hard I try.

The least I could do was remove all of my clothes during my restlessness in an attempt to rid myself of this unwelcome heat. Lying naked in bed with only a thin sheet enrobing me like a second skin, I blow out a frustrated breath and toss myself onto my belly for the umpteenth time today.

Closing my eyes, a frown spreads on my face when I hear rustling at the door. I open one eye to peek through, realizing that the sound isn't coming from the main door.

It's coming from the door that separates the guest bedroom from the king's suite.

Holding my breath, I realize that the metallic sound is that of the door being unlocked. I quickly squeeze my eyes shut, waiting with bated breath for whatever is to come, when the hinges screech to part the door.

Is that the king?

A quick inspection through a narrowly opened eye proves my suspicions correct when I peep at the king standing at the doorway, his skin deliciously moist with trinkets of freshwater drizzled all across his honey-golden tanned skin, a towel hanging low on his hips. I gasped under my breath, quickly closing my eyes when I saw his hand going up to rest on his hip.

What is he doing?

I keep my eyes closed, feigning sleep with my controlled breaths and without moving even in the slightest. Tuning my attention on any sounds, I hear none, as if the dragon king isn’t moving either. Then it hits me—I’m lying naked in bed, the thin, barely-there sheet covering my bare form in such a tightly twisted way, that he can probably make out that I don’t have clothes on. Instinctively clenching my ass cheeks so I don’t make any sounds, it doesn’t help that my rear is the first mound he’ll see from where he’s standing.

He makes no voice since there aren’t any sounds made. When I tune in even closer, I can only his heavy breathing, as if he’s glaring at me angrily and watching me sleep.

Is he watching me sleep?

Why is he doing that?

After glaring at me reproachfully when we both climaxed as if I’d done the most heinous of crimes, and then fleeing the scene of the crime as if I committed the most heinous of sins, why is he here?

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