Page 75 of The Forbidden Dragon King
“You heard that as well?” Lucius mutters. “This is aboutourKing not rutting anyone,ever.”
“What?” I shove myself to the edge of the bed, looking back at Lucius in shock.
My mind is whirling.
Other people aren’t like wolf shifters who need a bond to be triggered into heats and ruts. Fae and dragons have ruts from the moment that they reach adulthood.
Aurelius must be touch starved and near feral if he’s spending his ruts alone.
Suddenly, the conversation last night makes more sense.
Why is he torturing himself like that? Because itistorture.
I stare down at the slick soaked nightdress, smelling my pheromones that are thick in the air. Hurriedly, I stand and rush to the screen, standing behind it.
The sooner that I change and wash myself, then clean the bedding in here, the better.
This must be painful for an Alpha to smell who is going through ruts alone.
“Why would he do that?” I demand, shoving the ruby, pearl, and jade dragon embroidered screen between Lucius and me.
I slip the nightdress over my head, then bend to the basin on the floor, which holds cold water for me to wash myself.
I pick up the sponge, squeezing out the excess water, which drips like tears from it. Then I sigh, as I wash between my pale thighs, down to my calves.
“Relius isn’t allowed to show his emotions andfucking, even to the worst Alphahole, strips you down to the primal part of yourself. It’s hard not to show some tenderness, when you’re knotting an Omega so hard that they scream your name.” Lucius stands and walks closer to the other side of the screen. I can only see him as through a veil. “His uncle fears him. He fears what he may become. He fears what he may unleash.”
I stand in the cool morning light, shivering and wet. Yet the goosebumps are not because of the cold.
“I don’t understand.”
“Have you seen any statues, monuments, or frescoes to the original Golden Dragon, Emperor Hadrian?” Lucius whispers.
Spurred by his quiet urgency, which makes me certain that he’s imparting a secret that I’m not meant to know, I press closer to the screen.
My heart is beating faster. “Nothing. Why not? Aren’t you dragons proud of your Emperor?”
Lucius hesitates. For a long moment, I think that he won’t be brave enough to tell me more.
Then his lips press against the silk of the screen. “Curious little thing, aren’t you?”
I touch my own lips to his lips’ dark outline. “Talkative little thing, aren’t you?”
“There’s a reason that every trace of Emperor Hadrian has been hidden away. A reason that the North Tower, where he once lived, is forbidden to anyone but the royal family.”
“What reason?” I demand, breathlessly.
“So curious. But there is a more pressing question to solve. Relius isn’t able to be himself for a reason. He has been forged into a weapon. A symbol of the Draca Kingdom’s power. One to make people fear us. He’s our enemy’s nightmare. Here’s the question: What does a kingdom do with that nightmare, once their enemies have been defeated, tamed, and turned into pets? What use is a weapon in peacetime?”
Anxiety spikes through me. “You’re worried for Relius. You believe that he’s in danger.”
“Always.”
“So, who is holding the weapon? Someone must be controlling him.”
Lucius finally steps back from the screen, blurring into shadow. “We’re all controlled. And mostly, he controls himself. Now, get dressed. Delightful as it is to swap stories like such a loyal new friend, you also need to get to work. It is time to serve breakfast to the Golden Family.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
