Tempting the Dragon King

by Kiersten Fay

  Once they reached the guest room, Belinda merely stopped and crossed her arms. “Doona feel as if you are free to wander the castle.”

  June cleared her throat and pointedly eyed the closed door, waiting. Scowling, Belinda opened it and disdainfully waved her inside. As June glided across the threshold, she taunted, “Be sure to fetch my servants, Bet.”

  The strength with which Belinda slammed the door made June jump, but then the spat was quickly forgotten. Her room was A-MA-ZING. It was more like an apartment suite, really, with a kitchenette, a luxurious sitting room, a dining room, and two glorious bedrooms for her to choose from. Past a set of glass doors was a large balcony, where she found a small garden and a crystal-clear pool that made her thirst for a dip. Only because she was a stranger to this place she refrained from stripping her clothes off and diving in directly, and the fact that she seemed to share the balcony with another room that might or might not be occupied.

  She strolled to the edge of the banister. The afternoon breeze was warm and soft against her skin. It picked up a little when she leaned over to gaze down at the breathtaking view.

  She figured she was eight or nine stories up, but it looked much higher since the castle resided on top of a hill. A flock of birds dove from above, passing her swiftly and riding along the side of the building until their path arched out over the vast forest and they disappeared behind the leaves. On the horizon, the sun glinted off the distant ocean.

  A knock sounded on the door, and she wondered if Belinda was ready with more insults. When she hollered for her visitor to enter, a handful of servants decked out in neat uniforms marched in pushing a line of carts that were filled with fresh fruit parfaits, assorted sandwiches, mini pastries, fresh baked bread, and chocolate-dipped fruit, among other desserts.

  Her mouth watered. She hadn’t expected all this.

  One of the servants, a middle-aged man with a full head of salt-and-pepper hair popped open a corked bottle and filled a stem glass with a sparkling pink liquid, then handed it to her.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “You are quite welcome, my lady,” the servant replied in a kind voice, then placed the bottle in an ice bucket before asking, “Will you be requiring anything else?”

  “Not that I know of.” June sipped her drink. The vibrant taste of something fruity exploded on her tongue, followed by a tinge of alcohol. “Oh, man. This stuff is dangerous. I can already tell.” She gleefully took another sip.

  “The queen mother informed us you are in need of a wardrobe. May I have a tailor summoned to take your measurements?”

  “What? No. Don’t go to any trouble. However, uh….”

  “Yes, my lady?”

  “Well, I do need to borrow some clothes, but I don’t need anything new or fancy. Just something to lounge in, I guess. I won’t be here long.”

  “Of course, my lady. I will send one of the maids shopping. She will still require your measurements, however.”

  “Tell her I’m a medium,” June replied without thinking.

  “A medium what, my lady?”

  She chuckled at herself. “Oh, I guess you wouldn’t have Earth sizes, would you? What’s your name?”

  “Sorry?”

  “Your name.”

  He turned a little uneasy. “Tenji, my lady.”

  “Cool name. I’m June. Just call me June, okay?”

  “I…uh…it’s not…um…proper.”

  “I don’t mind. You see, I’m no lady, so all this my lady stuff is a little weird for me.”

  The servant inclined his head but didn’t speak her name. “I will send the tailor up right away. If you need anything more, just use the communication system.”

  June glanced around for something that resembled a phone or an intercom.

  “It’s here, my—” He cleared his throat and directed her to a small screen that was embedded in one of the walls, and showed her how to use it. “Once this evening’s menu is approved, I will have someone take your dinner order.”

  She gestured to the cartloads of food. “Tenji, please don’t trouble yourself just for me. Honestly, what you’ve already brought will be plenty for me.”

  “It’s no trouble. A grand dinner is always prepared for guests who dine with the king.”

  “Oh, I’m sure I won’t be dining with the king.”

  “I don’t see why not. It’s tradition. Kings and queens always dine with guests who stay in the apartments next to theirs.”

  14

  “Did you hear me, Your Majesty?”

  “Yes,” Tristan lied, distracted by thoughts of his wicked nights with the little human. Her body was a marvel. “Please continue, Lord Vizguard.”

  Since his council members were still out gathering information on the alleged witches, he’d made time to handle some of the kingdoms less pressing matters until they returned.

  Lord Vizguard went on about his neighbor encroaching on his land or something. Generally Tristan sat through these complaints with a bit more attention and respect, but forcing himself to focus today seemed an impossible task. “Have the cartographer verify the land is yours and your neighbor will be asked to remove his…uh.”

  “Fence, Your Majesty.”

  “Right.”

  After helping his lords deal with some of their minor problems, he and the council finally convened to discuss the larger issues at hand. This evening, Prince Gideon insisted on sitting in. Since allowing him a seat on the council was a condition of his—potentially—marrying his daughter, should that be what Tristan decided, he saw no reason to exclude him. With his mother on his right, Prince Gideon took the seat to his left, though that was generally where Rayu, his trusted advisor, sat. When Rayu entered the chamber, he only looked mildly irritated and then claimed one of the other chairs.

  Tristan started. “Do we have a report from Orik?”

  “Aye,” Rayu replied. “Our guards have found a small encampment on the outskirts of the city that could have been used by a coven at one time, but now appears to be abandoned. His opinion is that if a coven is close, they are going to great lengths to evading detection.”

  “And the child?”

  “Still missing, but we have new conflicting statements from the family members. The father thinks the boy may have run away, but the mother insists he would no’ have.”

  “What is the father’s reasoning?”

  “He claims the boy dinna like helping around the house or in the field, has violent outbursts, and has threatened to run away on multiple occasions.”

  “It does no’ matter what the reason is for his absence,” said Tristan. “The boy must be found.”

  As they moved onto other, more tedious, matters, Tristan once more found his mind drifting to June. During their return trip, he had announced she would be staying with him in his estate room, to the surprise of most. Belinda had commented something about indecency, but she had held her tongue after he’d speared her with a savage gaze. His mother had not remarked at all, but she had always indulged him when he wanted something. Though, one evening when they were alone in the ship’s salon, she had asked him about his intentions toward the girl.

  He’d assured her she needn’t worry. It was only a last fling—

  Edel had simply patted his chest and issued a single warning. “Careful, my son, for the heart has a mind of its own, and when made up, it canna be reasoned with.”

  Tristan did not feel as though his heart was in danger, yet June had been like a dream he hadn’t wanted to wake up from. But awake he was. He would not grow attached…more than he already was.

  He wondered how she liked her apartment. Had the servants attended her yet? Perhaps she was relaxing in the pool as the sun glinted off all that supple skin. He practically knew every inch of her with his tongue. She had no bathing suit, but no matter. The pool was entirely private. She could dance naked under the moon and nobody would know. If he went up there now would he find her swimming laps…nude, waiting for hi
m—

  “Your Majesty?” Impatience registered.

  “Yes! What is it, Prince Gideon?”

  “How would you like to respond?”

  “To?”

  “My cousin, King Hagan’s, message.” Prince Gideon was looking at him now, lips pursed, one brow lifted.

  “Oh, uh—”

  His mother came to his rescue. “Tell King Hagan we thank him for his kind words and congratulations on his daughter’s recent marriage.”

  Tristan gave his mother a grateful glance, determined to stay present for the remainder of the meeting. He perched his chin on his fist as Gideon began to air his concerns about the recent rumors that have been circulating about Tristan and his father, which was a topic Tristan really should be paying closer attention to. June had suggested he do some kind of press release, whatever that was. Why was he finding it so hard to focus, anyway? Because of one little human female? Ridiculous. Of course he could fight the temptation of envisioning all that supple skin sliding out of that water to greet him, so slippery and wet. Were he there, she might smile and crook her little finger at him and then—

  “Your Highness?” Prince Gideon asked. “Is there a problem?”

  Dammit! Now what did I miss?

  His mother placed her hand on his forehead. “Oh my. I believe all the travel has made you ill, my son. Would you like to excuse yourself and leave me to speak in your stead?”

  Though he felt perfectly fine, his mother’s suggestion was wise. He needed to get out of here before he made a fool of himself and revealed how truly preoccupied he was with the little human. “That would be fine, Mother. Thank you. Forgive me, my lords.”

  Though he felt guilty for shirking his duties, he grinned as he closed the chamber door behind him and found Tenji in the kitchen, putting the final touches on tonight’s menu. “Change of plan,” he said, and explained how this evening was going to go. Then he hurried toward the object of his obsession.

  When he knocked on June’s door, he heard a mumbled, “Come in,” but she sounded odd. Almost as if she were in distress.

  He flung the door open and found her face up, sprawled on the floor by a set of service carts.

  He skidded to her side. “June! What’s wrong?”

  “Desserts,” she moaned. “Too delicious. I couldn’t stop myself. Soooo full.”

  The knots in his stomach released and he chuckled.

  “Don’t laugh,” she chided dramatically, though there was teasing in her expression. “I’m dying.”

  “I’m sure that isn’t true.” Dying people didn’t smile such adorable little smiles. Working his arms under her body, he scooped her up and carried her toward the couch where he sat, positioning her on his lap.

  Looking content, that sweet smile still in place, she curled her body into his and brushed a lock of hair off his forehead. “Hi.”

  Something fierce ignited in his chest, ancient and primal, nearly knocking the breath from his lungs. Later he would recognize this moment. Later he would cherish it always. For this was the moment he lost his heart to her completely.

  Laying her head against his shoulder, she slipped her hand up his torso and around the back of his neck, playing with the fine hairs of his nape. The sensation was exquisite. His body melted and he held her closer, never wanting to let her go.

  “Mmm,” she murmured. “You smell good.”

  “You smell of sweets and sparkling wine.”

  “It’s not my fault. Blame the chef. Everything was laced with crack.”

  Though he didn’t know what crack was, he could tell she was being facetious. “I’m sure she will be most pleased that you enjoyed her food.”

  “She’s a goddamned food wizard.”

  “Would you like to spend the rest of the day with me?”

  She perked up, but was still in a teasing mood. “I don’t know. I’m pretty busy.”

  He leaned in and ran his nose along the line of her collarbone, taking in her delectable scent. “What if I took you flying?”

  Her words came out on a shudder. “Do you mean in a craft or…”

  He shook his head. “You can ride on my back.”

  She pulled back to look at him fully. “Is that safe? What if I fall?”

  “I’m told it’s easier to stay on than one might imagine. And I will take it easy. No midair flips.”

  She bit her lip, considering his offer for a moment…a long moment, curious yet tentative. “Apparently I’ll try anything once, but can I just see how it feels first? To be on top of you.”

  His cock jerked at her choice of words.

  A blush eased into her cheeks. “Yikes. That sounded dirty. You know what I mean.”

  “Of course. And for the record, I would love to have you on top of me. Dragon or no’.”

  She admonished him with a light slap to his chest, yet her giggle said she enjoyed this banter. But once they were out on the balcony, she turned pensive.

  “I won’t take off until you tell me it’s okay. Simply get off if you decide you’re too afraid. And if you decide mid-flight you want to stop, you have but to tell me and I will land, and we will simply return to the castle on foot.”

  She nodded at his instructions, rolling her hands over one another.

  “Do you have any questions?”

  “Will you be able to talk when you’re a dragon?”

  “We understand spoken language just fine, but our vocal cords are not as developed in dragon form. Simple words can be managed, but conversation would be difficult. Usually we don’t bother talking in dragon form anyway. We rely more on body language and instinct. Anything else?”

  “Can you breathe fire?”

  “Aye. If needed.”

  “Will you still be…yourself?”

  “For the most part. My mind becomes slightly more primitive, baser instincts become more acute, but I’m still me.”

  “So…if you were hungry, I wouldn’t look like a juicy steak or anything, would I?”

  “Steak? No. Juicy…? That’s debatable because you constantly make my mouth water. I am always hungry for you.”

  Her eyes went wide for a moment, then she laughed. “I see you’re turning on the charm tonight.” Though her smile lingered, he could tell she was still anxious.

  “You are safe with me, not matter what form I’m in.”

  Her expression became serious. “Promise?”

  “Will all my heart.” He leaned down to place a tender kiss on her lips. “So what do you think? Are you up for an adventure?”

  That sweet smile returned. “Let’s do it.”

  June couldn’t believe she was about to mount a friggin’ dragon. Who am I?

  Putting some distance between them for his transformation, Tristan’s skin began to shimmer the same way it had back at the Faieara castle. And just as it had then, his bones began to deform in a way that her conscious mind couldn’t reconcile. It was like her mind discarded one unfathomable image after the next, as quickly as her brain could process them, and then suddenly a great dragon stood before her, proud and glorious, rearing up on hind legs with his wings spread out wide.

  As gravity took hold, his front end crashed down with a loud thud and he shook out his whole body like a massive canine. Reptilian green eyes snapped to her, pupils slitting.

  She froze. This is how I die.

  Snaking his head low to the ground, he put them nose to nose. The dragon chuffed and puffed out hot, smoky air through his snout, then he took in a long breath, drawing strands of her hair toward him. Everything in her understood that she was prey, he the predator. Her mind screamed Danger, Will Robinson! and all the molecules that made up her being desperately wanted to vamoose. But she fought the fear, tamped it down with all her might, because—slitted pupils aside—those were Tristan’s eyes.

  With the help of the evening sun, she could make out his coloring more clearly than before. He was a pleasing mix of forest greens and golden highlights. She expected him to have scales,
which he did, but most were covered in soft baby fuzz save his chin chest and belly, which were comprised of large armor-like segments.

  She glanced down at his giant feet, or rather paws, and the urge to run returned tenfold. One dewclaw and three raptor-like talons tipped each toe. She imagined how easily those claws could tear open flesh. Like hot butter.

  As if sensing her fear, Tristan laid his whole body down on his belly, gazing up at her, and actually made a purring sound, as if instead of a mammoth lizard with wings he was simply a harmless feline—except this feline was the size of a house and could swallow her in a single chomp.

  Still, she couldn’t prevent a small laugh. “No fair acting adorable.”

  Lifting his head slightly, he prodded her with his snout and then put his head back down. When she made no move, he did it again. She realized he wanted her to get on.

  “Hold your horses, buster. I need to get used to you first. I’m going to…uh…just touch you now. Okay?” His eyes followed her as she stepped around to his right side. She knelt down and reached out to pet his chin, but she hesitated. “Don’t snap at me, okay?”

  His eye-roll was such a human reaction that she instantly felt more comfortable and stroked his fur. He was so much softer than she imagined, and when she massaged the tip of his ears, his eyes rolled back in his head as if in pleasure.

  “Oh my god, you’re so cute!”

  He chuffed and reared his head back to glare at her, baring his teeth a little. Though her heart raced at his fearsome reaction, she stood and faced him. “It’s a compliment. You put those teeth away right now. Do you want me to be comfortable around you or not?”

  He closed his mouth, actually managing to appear contrite. Well, as contrite as a dragon could appear. Then he lowered his head to nuzzle her. A dragon’s way of apologizing?

  “All right. You’re forgiven. Can I get on you now?”

  Once more, he put his head all the way to the ground and she straddled his neck. When he lifted his head, she slipped down with a small yelp and settled where his neck met his shoulders. In a small way, it reminded her of riding a horse without a saddle. She would need to use her leg muscles to hold herself up.