Page 123 of The Dragon King's Assassin

Chapter Forty-Eight

Dragons don't get married. Mating was final; once a Dragon was mated, that was it. No other lover for him or her. Not ever. Marriage was meaningless in light of that. That being said, there was a ceremony performed. After Dragons chose their mates, they formally presented themselves to their dread, or dreads if they came from different ones. The dread—a group of united Dragons, like a clan or tribe—would either accept or reject the mated pair.

It was the possibility of the latter that made me nervous.

“They will not reject us,” Taroc said as he stepped up behind me and met my stare in the mirror.

He, of course, looked fucking amazing in his presentation robe. Midnight silk flowed over his broad shoulders and down to the floor. It would have been somber if not for the crimson and gold embroidery that stiffened the edges. Beneath the robe, leather pants molded to his legs and impressive manhood, with matching boots that rose to his knees. Over that, he wore a black tunic, topped by a resplendent tabard of gold links. Chain mail for a king. His hair was loose, the thick locks glossy beneath his crown—a simple, gold band with rubies the size of my thumbnails evenly spaced around it.

I, on the other hand, looked like someone's idea of a joke. My hair wasn't dark enough to go with Taroc's, nor light enough to make a nice contrast. Just somewhere in the middle, a drab brown. My eyes were no match for his either, again, a boring brown compared to his startling teal. The rich clothing he insisted I wear seemed to mock this and my plain face, making my complete inferiority obvious.

“I don't think you see what I see,” I said as I transferred my stare back to my reflection.

“Who the fuck are you?” Taroc scowled.

“Excuse me?” I turned to look at him.

“Where's the cocky assassin I claimed? The man who stood up to me when no other dared. The man who tried to kill me, then told me I was boring in bed. That man wouldn't give a shit about the opinions of a few Dragons.”

I chuckled. “You said that there are over four thousand Dragons in your dread.”

“As I said, a few.” He grinned.

“I'm ugly.”

Taroc burst out laughing.

“Hey! You're not supposed to laugh at that!”

“It's ridiculous, so I'm laughing.” He took my face in his hands. “You are beautiful, and I love you. Get over yourself and then pull yourself together, Assassin. You're about to meet the Racul Dread.”

“Yeah, that makes me feel so much better.” I rolled my eyes.

“Come, Mate.” Taroc took my hand and led me out of my dressing room—he'd had the guest room turned into the mate's chambers—and then out of the royal suite, Ren walking proudly beside us.

The entire palace guard stood at attention outside the suite doors, one line to either side of the corridor. They bowed as we passed, then smoothly fell into line behind us, as if the King's magnetism pulled them along in his wake. Drasik had been appointed the new Captain and stood at the head of the group, hand on the pommel of his sword. I just hoped he did a better job than his predecessor. Not that Vettan had set a high bar.

Our massive parade made its way to the ground floor of the palace. When we reached the double doors of the throne room, most of the Royal Guard split off from us, going to stand to either side of the doors and forming lines that disappeared down the corridors. Only an honor guard formed of Captain Drasik and five others continued into the room with us.

An aisle had been formed by a narrow, red carpet and the guests. Their sharp, Dragon eyes focused on me, analyzing me critically. More than a few snarled when I passed by, hand-in-hand with their king. Despite their fine clothes, every single one of them looked as if they might shred me to bones in seconds. Perhaps that was because I now knew what they could become. Or at least one of the things they could become. Only the strongest Dragons could do a partial shift as Taroc had, most only had two forms.

I steeled myself and recalled Taroc's words. No, I shouldn't care what these people thought of me. But they were like Taroc's family, the only family he had since his parents had died without producing any siblings for him. So, yeah, I wanted them to like me.

We made it to the dais where a smaller throne had been set beside Taroc's. I may not get crowned, but mating Taroc meant that I got to sit beside him on the royal dais and it also made me a noble; I was now a duke of the Racul Dread. That is, if the dread accepted me.

Taroc and I went to the thrones, then he let go of my hand, and we turned to face the room together, him before his seat and me before mine. We didn't sit, not even Ren. Instead, we waited as a woman separated from the crowd and climbed the steps of the dais, stopping one step below the top. She was tall, sturdy as all Dragons were, and had a rope of golden hair trailing down the back of her gleaming robes.

The woman bowed to Taroc—bowed, not curtsied—and then spoke, “Greetings, King Tarocvar Verres. The Racul Dread is here at your command, eager to meet your mate. Is there anything you'd like to say on his behalf before we start the presentation?”

“Greetings, Yarena, honored Vas. Yes, I have something to say.” Taroc reclaimed my hand. “Racul Dread, I rejoice to see you standing before me in your entirety. You are my dread, the very blood in my veins, but this man beside me has become my heart. Sent to kill me, he has instead, become my life.”

Several Dragons growled at that last bit. So many that Taroc had to hold up his free hand to silence them.

“Yes, he was hired to kill me, but he failed, and I claimed him as my assassin,” Taroc said. “Locrian made a vow to protect me and find my enemy, and he fulfilled that vow. This man has saved my life and uncovered the traitor who not only lived in my palace but also led my knights.”

That lifted a few brows. Taroc must have stopped the news of Vettan's betrayal from spreading to his guests.

“Captain Vettan framed another man for his misdeeds, a man who I imprisoned, and then he placed Locrian under suspicion as well. I cast out my mate, believing Vettan's lies over his truth, and I did so without telling Lock who he was to me.”

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