Page 10 of Shifting Desire
I slam my hand down onto the desk.The wood cracks slightly beneath my palm, and I force myself to breathe through the growl building in my throat.
I am Malichai Veythronn.Dragon.Shadow King of New York.I’ve overthrown and destroyed empires older than this city.I’ve walked through blood and fire and watched entire species fall to ash under my command.
But I can’t touch her.Not unless she lets me.
It would’ve been easier, gods, so much easier, to rip Serephine’s spell off years ago and let the bond slam into her the way it did me.To watch her drop into heat and hunger and instinct until the only thing she wanted was me.
I could’ve done it with a snap of my fingers.But I didn’t because I needed to protect her and because that’s not what she deserves.Now that my father, the threat, has fallen away and the spell has started uncoiling, I need to remain patient.She will come to me soon enough, at least I hope she will.
She deserves truth.And choice.And softness no one else will ever see from me.She deserves a man who grovels and repents for the sins he committed against her.But dragons don’t grovel.
But I will.For her?
I’ll kneel.
I’ll bleed.
I’ll burn.
There’s a knock on the door.One of my lieutenants, judging by the rhythm.
“Come,” I say, voice rough.
The door opens and instead Serephine enters, long coat swirling behind her, eyes glowing faintly green.Her magic always smells like iron and fresh moss.She falls into the chair in front of my desk with a sigh.
“Watching her suffer,” she says casually, “must be hell.”
I narrow my eyes.“You’re not supposed to be in the city.”
“I’m not,” she shrugs.“Technically.I came to ...check the weave.”
My body goes still.“The bond?”
She nods slowly, then stands and walks to the liquor shelf and pours herself a small glass of whatever the hell she wants without asking.Typical.
“I felt it fracture,” she says.“She’s resisting, but her fae side’s pushing through, growing stronger by the minute.The spell won’t last much longer.You know that, right?”
Of course, I fucking know.I’m counting on it.
“I warned you,” she continues.“Three years was generous.Fae magic is unpredictable at the best of times.Half-fae magic is ...volatile.Messy and stubborn.”
“Like her.”
Serephine smirks.“Exactly like her.Which is why I’m here.You need to decide, Malichai.Claim her or reject her.”
“No.”
She lifts a brow.“No to which?”
“She is the one who will make the choice about our mate bond.No more manipulation.She deserves to feel it.To know.But not because I forced it.”
“That’s touching,” she says, sipping her drink with an eye roll.“Utterly foolish.But touching.”
I walk over to the window, looking out over the city I rule now.Lights glitter like fireflies.People move in and out of buildings with no idea what walks beside them.
“She’s not afraid of me,” I say quietly.
“She should be.”
