Page 19 of Brutal Dragon King

“Yeah… Fucking humans…”

The lighthearted conversation between us leads into the garden, and out of the corner of my eye, I spot an unfamiliar figure walking through the flowering gardens. Where an areca palm tree's leaves weep and cast shade over a group of blooming buds, ripe from last night’s rainfall, I watch as that figure disappears behind the trunk.

“Fucking humans…” I repeat in a murmur, irritation coiling in the pit of my belly as I watch the human prance around as if she’s so comfortable in the palace gardens.

Something primal grows inside me, materializing into a low growl. “What is her name?” I ask Ryu.

“Who?” he hoots like an owl, and I throw him an irritated glare.

“The human,” I say. “My human.” The correction is made impulsively, as if compelled by my inner dragon, who picks up the reins of my tongue for a split second to show its sudden bout of possessiveness over the child-breeder. The feeling washes over me in a raging wave that grips my being, forcing me to turn back to watch her as she leans down and plucks a white rose from the garden.

“Althea Waters,” Ryu replies, the name echoing in my mind as if my skull just emptied and I had become brainless.

The repetition of her name in my mind finally rolls off my tongue when I murmur, “Althea Waters…” recognizing that it’s the first time since my reign as the king of The Spine that I’ve even taken interest in a human’s name.

I could never care for humans before, not viewing their lives as worthy of my time, let alone speak their names out loud, into my reality to take up space in my time construct. Now that I’ve spoken the child-bearer’s name, I feel compelled to go to her, my strings being pulled by a force that feels stronger than my status.

“Go on without me,” I say to Ryu, peering curiously at Althea as she lifts the rosebud to her nose, her eyelids fluttering closed as she inhales.

“But Hai—” He's about to address me informally, but I wield my position as the king when I lift a hand and turn a neutral expression on him.

“It’s an order, Ryu,” I grate authoritatively, to which the head of the royal guard instantly bows and accepts the order when he turns mechanically and marches off toward the hockey rink. When he’s out of sight, I lift my attention back to Althea, disappearing behind the pine tree again.

What comes over me feels deranged, a mixture of possessiveness and irritation spurring my steps as I march into the garden on the opposite side of the tree. When Althea appears, I snatch the rose from her hand, startling her when a squeamish shriek escapes her full lips.

“What are you doing here?!” I roar with primal possessiveness.

Her brows furrow into a firm frown as she lifts her eyes to mine. “I am picking flowers.”

A condescending laugh escapes me, a full belly rumble that turns me even more manic as I throw my head back.

“Picking flowers?” I scoff at the absurdity of the statement, drawing my eyes back to hers as I glare down into her face. I’m about to add to the retort, but when I open my mouth to speak, I’m hit with a wave of tenderness that comes as a result of the way her hazel eyes sparkle as she glares at me.

Her beauty is out of this world, ethereal, as if she isn’t just a human villager born in The Emberlands. In the depths of her soft, glowing eyes, I enter a portal that leads me to her soul which speaks of her delicate nature, of her gracefulness that cannot be seen in her outer appearance.

I've never been fearful of anything before. Not even our quest to conquer Khyronia is a scary scheme, and I'm certain that it's something we'll achieve as easy as breathing.

But somehow, I'm afraid of the pull my dragon feels toward the human. Not because I can't handle this and remain cold toward her, but because this feeling should be considered illegal.

Mustering all my mental strength to the fore, I finally gain the courage to reel myself out of this daze and come back to my senses. But then I see her outer appearance, dressed in a bland kaftan that distinguishes the slaves from the dragon shifters in The Spine. It doesn’t help that her body is voluptuous enough to be considered delectable.

There’s a deep, innate need that tingles my fingers with a desire to feel her supple curves beneath my palms. I mentally chastise myself for the craving, since I’m able to exercise self-control in every other aspect of my life.

Except this one. My mind is at war with my body’s impulses, and I curl my hands into fists, growling ferally at the human and noticing that she doesn’t flinch.

Unlike me, she doesn’t seem to have a single fear. How can she not fear me when I am her king?

I should have thrown her into the slaves’ quarters with the rest of the child-bearers. What was I thinking, giving her special treatment as if she'd be my queen?

No one will ever have the privilege of being called my queen. She's nothing more than a breeding vessel to bring forth my heir through the portal between her legs. Legs I wish to spread and devour—

“You are not meant to be roaming the gardens freely,slave,”I spit the last word out venomously, taking a deliberate step forward.

Althea backs away, and it prompts me to step forward and corner her against the tree. But even then, when her back hits the tree trunk, she doesn’t flinch as if fear isn’t an emotion she recognizes.

“Did you not hear me? You were meant to remain in the guest bedroom, awaiting my orders.”

Althea lifts her chin with a defiant air of might that no human should have while they’re cornered by their king. “I will not stay in that room. I’m already here, and I agree to this whole charade. What more do you want from me?”

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