Page 6 of Brutal Dragon King

“Are you sure, Your Majesty? We require instructions for tomorrow’s—”

“Are you questioning my orders?!”I mentally yell at Ryu. I hear his sharp, shocked intake of breath through the telepathic communication channel, and scoff under my breath and make sure he hears my irritation. “The guard is already aware of what needs to happen tomorrow. There’s nothing more required ofyour king,” I growl to punctuate my statement and make it clear that I don’t intend to change my mind.

“Yes, Your Majesty. My apologies. I will not—”

I abruptly cut the communication by shielding my mind. I have no intention of listening to Ryu’s apology. I might become so frustrated that I’d forget he’s a friend, and behead myself.

He, of all people, should know not to question me. Ever.

Grunting at the sunset, I blow a breath as fiery as my dragon’s, and spin on my heel, passing my throne and brushing my fingertips along the golden armrest as I make my way to the flight of stairs.

Once I’ve reached the ground floor, I’ve willed myself back to my composure, keeping my chin lifted as I enter the great hall. With cascading burgundy curtains being drawn by the servants to signal the upcoming nightfall, the chandeliers are lit and cast brilliant light on the oak table in the center.

“Family,” I announce diplomatically when I walk through the arched doorway. Kaidën, the youngest of the Nayara siblings, is the first one up, his signature smirk shining out as brightly as the light fixtures.

“Brother man!” he greets me with a playful slap on my shoulder before he draws me into a casual hug.

I feel myself tense, only mildly patting him on the back and humming until he releases me. When he steps back, Jaidën, who’s only a year older than Kaidën, sticks out his hand for me to shake.

“Haidën,” he nods when I shake his hand. He’s more grim and uptight than Kaidën, and all he offers is a half-smile as if he’s duty-bound. “You were expecting us.”

“I was,” I nod back, clearing my throat when Mother saunters forward and flings her flowing-sleeved arms around myneck. She presses soft, feminine lips on my cheek, exuding a warmth that has me stiffening now.

I hate these formalities, especially at a time like this. Before the year rolled around to the time of the annual reaping in the Kingdom of The Spine, my brothers and I had been planning on conquering the land ruled by King Hestios—the dragon king of the land of Khyronia in the west. With all three of our kingdoms in the Nayara Dynasty combined, we would have easily defeated our opposition and become even more powerful.

It was Mother who reminded us of the duties of carrying on our lineage. I can’t deny that it isn’t important.

That’s the only reason I’m going ahead with this.

“My son!” Mother whispers as she cups my cheeks in her delicate hands, inspecting my face with twinkling eyes. “Are you ready for tomorrow?

I grimace as I gently remove her hands from my cheeks, then step aside to gesture with a wave to the waiting feast spread out on the table. My servants are always one step ahead. I’ve trained them well, and I never enter the great hall without it set up already.

I don’t have the patience.

When everyone is seated, I take my place at the head of the table, and a servant comes over to lift the lid off my plate, revealing the main course of baked potatoes and seared ribeye. Meat is a staple for a dragon shifter, although we prefer it raw and fresh. I make a mental note to plan a proper hunt. With its abundance of mountains, The Spine makes for an excellent

“I heard you visited your side of The Emberlands today,” Kaidën comments as he tips his wine glass to his lips.

Narrowing my eyes at him, I attempt to read his thoughts, knowing that nothing is ever black and white with our younger brother. But he’s blocked me out, and I can’t read his thoughts, even with my gift of deeper telepathy.

Each of us possesses supernatural gifts, thanks to our mother, who isn’t an ordinary human. Since dragon shifters can’t breed amongst each other, it was our sperm donor—or father, who doesn’t deserve the title—who fostered children with a witch. Mother is immortal because she had dragon cubs with the missing tyrant king, who disappeared soon after Kaidën was born.

The youngest was gifted with the power of shielding his thoughts and feelings, though the latter could be considered a result of not remembering who our father was.

Jaidën reaches for his wine and remains tight-lipped as he pretends to stay out of the conversation. He could have easily used his telekinetic powers to spill Kaidën’s drink over the front of his crisp white shirt, but Jaidën shook his head discreetly when I put the thought into his mind.

“... See anything you like out there?” Kaidën continues.

I growl under my breath, my nostrils flaring with irritation.

“There is nothing to like, Kai,” I remind him with a scowl. “Might I remind you that they are but lowly peasants?”

Kaidën snickers under his breath. “We all know that, but aren’t you at least a little curious about who your sex slave will be?” he smirks mischievously as he twirls his wine glass in front of him.

I grunt my indifference, even if an unjustified thought enters my mind. When I visited The Emberlands earlier today,hiding my identity behind a black hooded cloak when I joined my men in the village hub where the lottery participants were dropping their tokens into the pot, I had a strange encounter with a human.

“Strange” because I’m left with residual afterthoughts about her. Thoughts that I wish I didn’t have, and I’ve been trying to push them out of my mind with much struggle. It’s not as though the human has any right in my head, but she’s left an impression on my inner dragon that shouldn’t be there in the first place.

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