I wrung my hands together in my lap, a lump forming in my throat. “Thanks, Bell.”
He could say the reason was because of all the hot ass he’d get in Russia. But I knew the truth. He refused to let me be alone.
Chapter Two
Warrin
I breathed in the crisp, cold air before releasing it in a visible exhale. The high atmospheric pressure had chased away the overhead clouds, gifting us with the first sunny day we’d had since November.
Warriors trained in the snow-covered field before me, some with swords and others honing their archery skills. I walked amongst them, nodding in approval. Our kingdom valued strength, both physically and mentally. A strong body meant very little if the mind was weak and vice versa.
Discipline. Loyalty. Intellect. All three mattered. I instilled each of the values into my warriors.
“Prince Warrin!” Armen said as he rushed toward me, a heavy limp in his right leg. He was young—barely in his seventeenth year. He’d been injured as a boy when a car accident had shattered the bones in his leg, yet he never let the injury take away his positive attitude. I admired that about him.
“What news have you?”
“The king, sir.” Armen bowed his head. His strawberry blond hair stuck out from the bottom of his fur hat, and the tops of his cheeks were pink from the cold. “He requests your presence.”
“Very well.” I looked at Lev, my second-in-command and best friend. “Take over. I have another matter to attend to.”
“Yes, Commander.” Lev tipped his head before facing the warriors and issuing an order.
“Come with me, Armen,” I said before walking toward the castle.
The boy fell into step beside me, and I kept my strides short so he wouldn’t fall behind. His mother had been human, so he had trouble tolerating the frigid temperatures like the rest of us full-blooded dragons.
The cold had little effect on me. The snow gave us strength. Power. We could visit warmer climates, even stay for a while, but the ice always called us home.
“Permission to speak, sir?” Armen slowed his pace as the path slightly veered uphill.
“Granted.” I slowed mine to match.
“I’m excited for your wedding.” He beamed with a smile. “It will be a grand affair. The grandest we’ve ever seen. Decorations. Music. Food. So much food.”
“Certainly not as grand as King Nikolai’s marriage to Queen Kira. Though, such a grand celebration is unfitting for me. I am only a prince.”
“It will still be nice. Better than nice. The winter solstice will bless your union.” Armen shoved his hands in his coat pockets. “I’ve never seen a Nephilim before.”
My stomach dipped at the thought of Daman. Fire had blazed in the depths of his green eyes the first time our gazes had met. The eyes of a warrior. It was what drew me to him the most.
Mountains rose behind the castle, and the snow-capped trees of the surrounding forest reflected the sun, glistening as if diamonds were embedded in the ice. A small pond sat to the left of the path, the water frozen solid.
“Go warm up by the fire,” I said once we’d walked into the entrance hall.
“Yes, sir.” Armen bowed before heading toward the staircase.
“The king awaits you in his study,” one of the royal guards said.
I ascended the steps to the second floor and turned down the left corridor, passing paintings on the wall. A portrait of the former king caught my eye.
King Alban. My father.
My brother wasn’t nearly as strict as he had been. In fact, many would say King Alban had been cruel. Ruthless. He had waged war on the water dragons and nearly wiped out their entire clan. Somewhat justified since King Ryujin, the water dragon king, had tried to conquer our lands. Yet, even after King Ryujin died, my father continued to slaughter members of the water clan, and he’d laughed about how weak he’d thought they were.
Reaching a closed door at the end of the passage, I knocked twice.
“Enter.”