Page 697 of Love Bites

But Mathonwy Draco wouldn’t be the new king. He was too young, untried, and just beginning his career. The Dragon Scepter had always chosen older monarchs who were over a hundred and thirty or so. Even though he had lived more than forty years, a natural human wouldn’t have guessed he was over twenty-five. The coupled dragon soul slows aging and extends lifespan in dragon shifters.

The Scepter wouldn’t choose him to be the Dragon King.

Not this time, at least.

Maybe in a century or so.

His dragon watched restlessly out of his eyes, sizing up the other shifter souls that might stand for the monarchy.

Math wasn’t sure how much of his ambition was his own aspirations, which had driven him to graduate at the top of his classes from university and business school, and how much was his dragon’s desire to metaphorically crouch atop the clan’s hoard and declare himself the alpha.

It didn’t matter, really. His two souls—the human one and his supernatural, dragon anima—were twins and reflections of each other. Both strove for more and worked too hard to achieve. Math had inherited the dukedom, which some might think marked him for greatness, but Math knew better. The days of inherited power had been over for decades. His father had made sure he knew that before—

Math cleared his throat, staring down at his shined shoes that poked out below his pants cuffs and the gold-embroidered robe for a moment before he looked up at the King and Queen again.

His father had made sure that Math knew the world owed him nothing.

Math had little desire to be the King, anyway. He had earned an MBA from a top-tier business school and was deeply involved in the business and civic duties. His talents were better suited for Dragons Den, Inc. and the Nobles Council’s committees that got the work done, not as an autocrat in a monarchy that was rapidly becoming a figurehead. He was excellent at managing projects for the company and building consensus in meetings, not to mention that he had sniffed out several thieves who had been pilfering from the company’s and the city’s accounts. Finance had been his best subject in B-school. He could read spreadsheets like some musicians read music, hearing the patterns in his head as he scrolled.

No, surely he wouldn’t be chosen.

Not this time.

Perhaps not ever.

His friends Arawn and Cai, though, they both had a chance at winning the monarchy.

Arawn Tiamat was as dependable as they come, a solid choice who would rule with a steady hand, fairness, and an eye toward the clan’s security that no one else could equal.

And Cai—

Well, Cai Wyvern would be the most interesting monarch since Mad King Guorthigern, who had mated and married Good Queen Ceridwen. Queen Ceridwen had summarily locked Guorthigern in the High Tower of their castle to live with his howling madness and carried on with a succession of lovers while she ruled the New Wales Dragon Clan, leading the clan to greater prominence in dragon society and increasing their territory seven-fold. Ceridwen had been a model queen, except for the part where she imprisoned her mate, probably.

King Llywelyn extended his hands and waited for the room to settle down. He said, “As I said, Her Excellency Queen Bronwyn and I wish to retire to Florida, because evidently, Los Angeles isn’t quite warm enough for aging, cold-blooded reptiles.”

A titter ran through the audience around Math, and Queen Bronwyn pressed her lips together in a thin smile. She touched her hair, which shone regally silver, and adjusted the gold and diamond diadem on her head.

Her eyes were a glittering, molten blue, which matched both her dragon and her temperament. Math had met her on many occasions, as Bronwyn was his godmother. Her personality wasn’t icy but calm, cool, and breezy.

“As is traditional,” King Llywelyn said, gesturing to where two men had entered the throne room near the throne dais, holding a barbell-sized scepter between them, “people of noble rank will approach the Dragon Scepter first, followed by those invited by the Queen and myself, and then anyone who wants to try their hand, until the scepter selects a new monarch.”

Ifthe scepter selects a new monarch, Math mentally added.

The last time the scepter had been called upon to choose a new ruler, over two decades before when Math had been twenty years old, four ceremonies like this one had occurred before the scepter had finally selected Llywelyn and Bronwyn to be successors to King Cadfael and Queen Tiwlip.

Still, it was better than succession by combat. At least the dragon clan didn’t do that anymore. Legends were still told of The Bloody Succession of 1631 that had decimated the clan nearly to the point of non-viability.

As the two dragon shifters lugged the long scepter between them toward the dais, King Llywelyn announced, “The Dukes of the New Wales Dragon Clan will now approach the scepter, if they should so choose.”

Some of the older dukes stepped back or glanced down at their shoes, not willing to take on the enormous responsibility and packed schedule of the monarchs. They’d had their chances, and they’d built their own lives, instead.

Math hesitated.

As did Arawn and Cai.

“We should do it,” Math said.

Arawn sighed. “Yes, it’s our duty.”

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