Page 1 of The Forbidden Dragon King
CHAPTER ONE
Silver Tower, Shadow Court, Draca Kingdom
Aurelius, Alpha Shadow Dragon Prince
Secrets and intriguebreed in the Shadow Court. My brother, King Tarquin, thrives on the fuckers, despite his easy laughter and charm. He wears more masks than I do.
Why did he tap out a code to me on the table over dinner last night, which he hasn’t used since I was a child? A code that told me he had asecretfor my ears only? One that we must hide from everybody else?
Is it about the Second Fae War? Uncle Maximinus?Me?
Tarquin’s golden curls and militaryleathers were as immaculate as ever, as he smiled at the silver winged Omega, Liviana, who he has been courting for the last eighteen months.
I bet that he’ll bond with her, when she next falls into heat. I never understood why he refused to take a dragon rider Omega to be his mate. I yearn for that type of love.
Tarquin prefers to spend his ruts in the arms of a different lover each time.
Except, now he appears to have found his forever bond.
My heart clenches.
Lucky fucker.
It’s a wound that never heals that I’m forbidden from seeking mine.
Yet I know Tarquin better than anyone, and his smile was strained, despite the way that he was allowing Liviana to stroke his curved horns. She teased her fingers around his silver crown with its twin dragons like she already wore one upon her own head.
When Tarquin’s gaze caught mine, I saw the unusual seriousness behind his eyes — a coldness that normally blazes only in mine.
Now, I sprint up the winding, stone stairs of the Silver Tower. My nose scrunches at the moldy, mildew scent.
Nobody comes up here. This is the most ancient part of the palace.
My brother has never summoned me like this before.
He should be getting his knot wet between the slick thighs of the prettiest and most ambitious Omega in court, rather than playing these spy games with me.
The code is a way for us to arrange clandestine meetings alone in this hidden tower that only we know about, away from Maximinus.
I scrape my hand along the rough stone wall, pushing myself faster up the spiral staircase.
My heart speeds up. My pulse is loud in my ears.
My golden hair tumbles over my amber eyes.
The exhausted muscles in my thighs scream at being pushed past their limit. My knees feel like they may buckle.
I ignore them.
I always do.
But then, my brow furrows, as I gasp in pain. The back of my tight Shadow Military Academy uniform is rubbing against the whip lashes, tearing the wounds open again.
“Son of a wingless bitch.” My jaw clenches.
Each searing line across my back and shoulders tugs and pulls. They’re like fire over the deep, cool ache of the layered scars underneath.
I grit my teeth.
