31. Unlikely Saving Grace
31
UNLIKELY SAVING GRACE
" W atch out!" Az roared.
It happened too quickly for Luella to process.
Her head turned, golden hair whipping around her as she met deeply shadowed eyes.
One of the attackers—they had thought them all dead—had laid in wait, biding his time for a weak spot.
The opportunity to pounce.
And pounce, he did.
The male’s long red hair blew back around him, revealing pointed ears. Swirls of tattoos dotted the skin of his hands. Hands that ferociously gripped the pommel of his bloodied sword.
His tanned skin was streaked with dirt and abrasions. Death called to him. And it made him fearless. Knowing he would soon meet his end, either way.
That fearlessness brought a sense of utter, reckless abandon, and the attacker wielded it to his advantage.
He snarled, a vicious, ghastly expression overtaking his weathered skin, lips curling up and tension cutting a harsh line between his thick brows.
The male was too close. Far too close. Too fast.
It was all too fast.
Az’s hands curled over her shoulders, making her chest and wounded socket ache with pain. Tharen’s hand outstretched, eyes growing vibrant with magic as little sparks of vines flew from his fingertips.
But it was no use.
Luella gasped, hands jerking up to shield herself as much as she could.
And then, the unthinkable happened.
Silent as the shadows, Graves lunged.
The raven shifter jumped in front of Luella, shielding her body with his. A groan of pain emitted from Graves as the attacker’s sword pierced through his shoulder. It didn’t go all the way through, but the force of the blow made Graves stagger back into Luella. Az caught her against his chest, steadying her from his weight. In shock, Luella’s eyes grew wide, and she placed her hands on Graves’s warm back.
He saved her.
The throne room was utterly still, save for the sounds of her ragged breathing.
"Quickly," Graves barked, voice laced with strain from the pain of his wound.
Tharen nodded, vines shooting out and winding up the attacker’s legs, pinning him in place and completely immobilizing him.
The Prima lifted a hand, ready to end the red-haired male’s life, but Bastian stepped forward, a sharp cloud of reddened bloodlust falling over him as he lifted a hand for pause.
"Allow me," the vampire said as he stepped forward.
If it weren’t for the cries that fell from the red-haired male’s pale and chapped lips, a choked-up plea rumbling from the deepest parts of his chest, and the tears of blood that fell against his skin—matching tracks of scarlet dripping from his ears and down his neck, pooling from his nose and the corners of his mouth—Luella never would have guessed the vampire was to be blamed. But Mind magic had a particular way about it. Bastian wielded it perfectly, and no exertion was evident on his regal face, he was utterly relaxed as he brought the male to his end, stealing into his mind and ripping him apart.
It was no swift ending, though.
He drew it out, long and slow and painful, all with a look of glee.
Luella watched it all, trapped between Graves and Az, the raven shifter before her pinned with a sword in his shoulder, and the demon behind her, chained, unable to do anything to help.
The attacker gave a final cry, blood bubbling over his lips before he slumped, the vines tangled around him the only thing keeping him upright.
Tharen whistled, calling his wolf pack to him.
"Eat," the mage commanded with a jerk of his head. His braids swung over his shoulder, lip curled as he offered the dead male up as food for his wolf pack.
Just as the vines dissolved, the male falling in a heap to the blood-slick marble, the trio of beasts pounced, tearing limbs off in a flurry of low barks and growls.
Bastian wiped an imaginary piece of lint off his shoulder. "Well," he started. "There’s that problem taken care of." He paid no mind to the body parts on the floor as he walked closer, eyeing the sword stuck out of Graves’s shoulder. A pale finger swept over the blade, collecting the blood there. He lifted it to his nose and breathed deep. "Gods, I’m starved."
The vampire appeared to be at the edge of his patience, bloodlust threatening to consume him. Luella swallowed. Instead of tearing into Graves as she thought he would, Bastian jerkily wiped his palm on his pants, ridding himself of the blood. He pinched his nostrils and stepped back.
Luella moved a hand up to Graves’s neck, stealing herself with a breath as she pushed his hood back away from his face. No one was here save for them; she figured it to be safe, even though she didn’t know why he kept his identity a secret. She brushed her fingers over his nape, and he shuddered under her touch.
"Are you okay?" Luella breathed.
His gloved hands clenched as if searching for something before he skimmed a touch over her thighs. "I’ll live," he said quietly, then turned his attention to the Prima. "Tharen."
The mage narrowed his eyes on the sword before stepping in front of Graves. Luella was still tucked behind him, her whole body pressed tightly between Graves and Az.
"This will hurt," Tharen warned.
Graves nodded, the ends of his black hair tickling her fingers. She smoothed featherlight touches over his warm skin, silently offering assurance.
"Do it," Graves ordered, breathing deeply.
"Azgorath, step away with Luella," Tharen said.
The sound of her true name on the mage’s lips shocked her. He was more serious than she had ever seen before.
Az obeyed, pulling Luella a few steps away and gently keeping her arm tucked into her body. His chest rumbled under her as he whispered, "It’ll be over soon, Lu. Tharen will heal you, and you can rest."
She nodded, not sure if she believed it would be that easy. Not with King Vale still gone. They hadn’t truly won yet.
Tharen gripped the hilt of the sword, searching for something in Graves’s expression. She couldn’t see anything other than his back, but the Prima must have found whatever it was he was looking for because he gritted his teeth and then pulled.
The blade jerked out of Graves’s shoulder, and he keeled forward, a low groan tearing out of his chest. He staggered forward. Catching him with a hand on his shoulders, Tharen locked his arms around him.
"Fuck," Graves hissed out between his teeth. He pressed a hand to his shoulder, slick blood spreading out from between his fingers.
Luella could only imagine the pain. He was taking it far better than she would have. A twinge in her shoulder reminded her of her own pain, and she bit her lip to stifle a gasp.
Az’s hands fell from her as she stepped forward. He started to pull her back, but she peeked up at him and gave a wobbly smile. "It’s okay."
Her hands fluttered before her. Even hunched over in pain, Graves was a force to be reckoned with. Imposing and enigmatic, he loomed before her.
His pain was because of her. He had saved her from what could have been her demise.
"I—" she started.
Graves looked at her, the movement uncoordinated as he gave her his attention. The usual deepness that made his eyes so sharp and vivid was clouded over with the pain.
It was like a punch to the gut—being met with his stare. His cowl had come down to under his chin from the struggle, and the scar on his face was prominent from how pale his skin was. A stark line curving over his cheek and cutting into his lip. But he was still beautiful. All uncut edges and shadows.
"Why would you do that for me?" Her bare foot stepped into a puddle of blood as she stepped closer, but she was past the point of caring now.
Graves paused as if he didn’t even know the answer to that himself.
He rolled his shoulders back, posture straightening, even as he let loose a low groan, blood darkening his cloak.
"I didn’t want to see you hurt." Graves’s eyes tightened in a wince. "I can take the pain. You can’t."
She rolled her lip between her teeth.
The raven shifter was full of surprises.
Luella had expected him to say something different. Not admit to possibly caring for her, of all things.
Blood bloomed from the wound on his shoulder, but Graves did not seem concerned, even as he wiped sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, releasing another pained groan.
"Damn it all to the Below," he spat. "That hurts."
"Let me see." Luella stepped forward and raised on her tiptoes, fingers hovering over the bloody rip in his shirt.
She gently peeled away his fingers, careful not to be too rough. Graves watched her silently as she looked at the wound.
It was hard to tell with all the blood and his shirt obscuring it, but it was bad. Deep but not too wide from the narrow point of the sword. Small blessings. She didn’t have much—or any—experience with wounds, but from what Luella could tell, Graves needed a healer. And soon.
If he didn’t get this patched up, he could die.
Shouldn’t she want that?
Realization slammed against Luella like a crashing wave.
She was worried for him.
Worried .
For the male who had played a role in destroying her kingdom and capturing her.
The anxiety welling within her was for him. Not because of him.
Graves was important to King Vale, and the King was gone—his court circled her, but with Az by her side and Graves weakened, maybe she stood a chance.
Luella shifted her attention to the demon, and his eyes widened at what he saw on her face. Az gave an imperceptible shake of his head, warning her.
It could be quick. Luella could lift the dagger from the sheath on Graves’s waist and finish him off; it wouldn’t even take much. He was unsteady on his feet, and his temples were beaded with a cold sweat. The real problem would be Tharen.
Bastian—
The vampire said he wouldn’t hurt her, but did he mean it? Could Luella count on him to at least look the other way, if not aid her?
Her mouth parted in thought. Dare she be cunning and brave?
Something about taking this opportunity to prey on his weakness made her stomach churn with nausea. It would make her just as evil as them.
Graves leaned into her, and she took on more of his weight, fingers curling in his black hair.
Her eyes burned with tears. She couldn’t.
Luella cleared her throat. "You need a healer."
Graves lifted his head, but she couldn’t even meet his eyes, instead keeping her gaze trained on that amulet attached to his neck. The stone was misted with blood.
"I’ll survive until we get you to safety." Graves pushed off of her, standing unsteadily on his own.
From a few paces away, Bastain interjected, "But we need to hurry. You’re losing blood."
"And we still don’t know where Vale is," Tharen commented.
A dragon roar from above grew closer, shaking the ground under her. Quick as lightning, Bastian was beside her, standing between her and Graves, bracing them both while being careful of their wounds.
"That answers that question," the vampire remarked dryly.
Luella peered up, eardrums threatening to rupture from the twin sounds of dragon roars. It was deafening and growing closer with every passing moment. Mouth parting as he looked up, Az pulled her into his chest, shielding her ears as much as he could.
"Is he winning?" the demon yelled.
Tharen smirked, casting a look over his shoulder. "Without a doubt."
Pausing, Bastian lifted three fingers, a smile curving up on his sensual lips. Luella’s brow furrowed. He lowered a finger, grin growing wider. Then another.
With one finger raised, the vampire suddenly gasped a curse.
"Take cover!" Bastian yelled.
That was all the warning they received before the wall behind the throne caved inwards.
Luella was thrown to the ground by the force of the blow.
Sprinkles of pulverized stone and chunks of the wall rained down around them all, turning the once beautiful room into a ruinous scape.
Her ears rang. Numbness was a thick and heavy blanket pressing down on her body.
She lifted her head, eyes half-lidded and mind clouded with fog as she looked around the room in the aftermath.
"No," Luella whispered.
Where was Az?
"A-Azgorath." Her voice was but a breathy, soundless plea.
Her gaze raked over the room, past the stone chunks and fallen glass, over the lifeless bodies and puddles of blood.
Then, she saw them, thrown about on the ground in various states of disarray.
She gave a soft, wearisome exhale as Tharen sprang up, red rivulets running down from his ears. The mage didn’t hesitate before drawing his two swords, one in either hand as he prepared his stance to fight, knees spread and posture locked as he scanned the room, never settling on one spot for long as he waited for a threat to emerge.
She slowly placed her hands under her and pushed herself off the ground, shaking her head to dispel the thick haze. Discombobulation threatened to topple her right over, but she fought against it, refusing to give in. Her shoulder ached something fierce. Every breath made her breastbone seize with pain.
Luella stumbled to a stand, lip trembling as she searched for her demon.
"Az," she called. "Azgorath."
It was quiet.
The dust settled around her and coated her skin in ash from the rubble—no more enchanted gold.
An arm laid upon a thick block of stone.
She pressed a hand to her lips to quell her sound of fear.
Eyes closed and face relaxed, Az was lying on his side. She fell to her knees, dragging herself over to him. Her arm screamed in protest.
"Az," Luella murmured, shaking his shoulder. "Wake up." She leaned down over him, her golden hair falling over her shoulder and brushing his chest as she turned him on his back. Unresponsive. Her lip wobbled.
He couldn’t be dead. No . Please, not him.
The only one who had shown her care and affection in her entire life, taken from her before they could explore the something more that was between them. She shook him with renewed vigor, barely registering the way her body ached and pain flared from her hurried movements.
" Azgorath ," Luella pleaded.
A shadow fell over the floor.
She looked up. Tharen stood above her, looking at the way she was curled over the demon with something that almost appeared to be jealousy.
"Help him," Luella implored, hands grabbing at the bottom of the mage’s pants. She would do anything. "Please."
Tharen let out a sigh and knelt on the ground, brushing her hands away from him. He placed a palm on Az’s forehead and closed his eyes in concentration. Warmth radiated from Tharen as he probed the demon’s injuries with his magic, and Luella leaned into it—into him—subconsciously.
The moments ticked by. Every passing breath of time made her more and more anxious.
Just when she was going to speak, lips parting with a quivering question on her tongue, Tharen opened his eyes.
He turned to look at her, brushing his pointer finger over the side of her cheek in thought. "He’s fine. The enchantments on the chains are stalling his healing, but he’ll live."
"Take them off, then," she demanded.
Surely, he wouldn’t leave the chains on just to spite the demon, not if his safety was a concern. But she underestimated his cruelty. Or overestimated her kindness…
"No." A final statement, brooking no argument.
Graves appeared like smoke, standing silently, a hand braced on his shoulder and lips downturned in pain, but he was vigilant, his free hand holding a dagger like a vice as he stood guard over them, letting them care for Az while he kept a watchful eye.
That was the second time Luella felt something akin to gratitude for the raven shifter.
Bastian was behind him, a slight waver to his gate as he walked. The vampire looked the worst out of all of them—he had been closest to the blast. Her own ears rang still. She couldn’t imagine how a being with even more heightened senses would feel, and one that was as close as he had been to the wall that had exploded inward.
Luella looked away from the others, hands clenching at her skirts as she bowed her head over Az.
"Please." Warmth dribbled over her neck, and she absentmindedly swiped at it. Blood. Wiping her palms on her ruined gown, she leaned over Az. "Wake up," she whispered over his cheeks. "Come back to me." Az’s brow furrowed, but his eyes remained closed.
He was listening to her.
"He’ll be okay, pet." Bastian knelt beside her, tucking her into him. "Stand up." He pulled her up, and she leaned her entire weight on him, too tired to care how close he was or how vulnerable the act made her.
A low and pained sound fell from Az’s lips. Hope welled in her chest. He was waking up!
Tharen fit his hands under Az’s arms, lifting him into a sitting position.
The roaring call of the dragons grew louder and louder, threatening to shatter her already damaged ear drums. She winced, pressing her face into Bastian’s chest.
They didn’t have any energy left to fight. She wasn’t sure if they would survive another attack. Luella could only hope somehow, King Vale would win.
She watched Az, taking in the rise and fall of his beautiful, tanned chest. Even the blood on him could do nothing to take away from his savage allure. Movement from behind his closed lids, his thick lashes fluttering over tanned skin.
And Az opened his eyes.
Warm amber focused right on her. Bleary but alive. Luella sighed in relief, a smile wanting to rise, but she didn’t allow it. They hadn’t won yet.
The demon batted Tharen’s hands away as he tried to help him stand.
"I don’t need your help," Az slurred. He stood on his own, staggering, before righting himself. He met her gaze. "Angel?"
Always making her his priority. Luella melted.
"I’m fine. But you… Az." She shook her head, beyond words of the fear that had come over her.
She had been threatened with the prospect of losing him, and that was all it took for her to realize how much she had grown to care for him. Feelings she had never experienced before weighed heavy on her mind and soul, but Luella tucked them away.
Later.
She would revisit these new feelings later .
Another roar shook the room, and the wind whipped through the open hole where the wall once stood. Little pieces of jagged rock and stone crumbled to the floor in disarray around the gaping hole, revealing the cliffs outside and, beyond that, the expanse of the ocean.
The courtiers who lived had fled once victory seemed assured. Dead bodies on the floor were crushed under the stones, torn-off limbs strewn about the room in puddles of gore. They were alone here.
Az stumbled to a stop beside her. As Luella looked out at the open hole, waves crashing in the distance, little rays of dawn sun cutting through the clouds, the others stood around her. The group looked out over the ruins of the once-opulent room.
In the early light of morning, large wings beat through the fluffy clouds, making loud thumps as they flew closer and closer. Luella started to make out the shape, chest tight with anxiety as she waited to see if the approaching dragon was the King or not.
Luella tried not to focus on how, with such vivid desperation, she wished it was him—that he had lived. Even when she knew it was a foolish wish. If he died, that would have been one problem solved. But the evil you know was better than the evil you don’t, and Luella didn’t want to try her luck with their attackers.
The rising sun illuminated the approaching dragon, casting an eery visage as it revealed the dragon’s glittering onyx scales.
"King Vale," Luella breathed. She squinted as he flew closer.
"What the fuck?" Tharen mumbled.
Something was in the dragon’s mouth.
Was that?—
"What does he have?" Bastian asked.
No one responded.
The dragon flew closer, onyx cutting through the puffy clouds and golden sky. Just as the dragon flew free of the clouds, Lualla froze where she stood, her uninjured hand fluttering to her chest.
Gripped in the dragon’s mouth was a decapitated dragon head. White and golden scales clutched in his snout. Smoke billowed from his nostrils as he huffed, wings beating as he flew closer. The onyx dragon hovered in the air outside the exposed wall, wings beating so powerfully it kicked up the wind around them and made her hair whip around her. The bottom of her dress blew out, and Luella staggered back into Az from the force of it.
"Oh." She was arrested at the sight of him. King Vale was… magnificent.
Dangerous and deadly.
Fearsome.
Her mouth dropped open in awe and fear.
This was the legendary King. The cruel and indomitable ruler of Serpentis.
His green eyes glowed as he lowered, taloned feet clawing against the stone cliffs outside the castle, seeking purchase. He rumbled around the head of the enemy dragon, sharp teeth flashing and a leg scratching against the stone before he opened his mouth.
The head dropped from his maw and bounced off stone cliffs and sharp, jagged edges of rock before tumbling down, down, down into the crashing sea below. Swirling, white sea foam and deep blue waves swallowed it whole. The glinting scales of white and gold disappeared under the ocean’s depths, never to be seen again.
In his dragon form, King Vale stood like a valiant conqueror before them all. Perched upon stony cliffs in his domain, the ruins of his throne before him. Blood and bodies strewn about the marble floors, enemies fallen by the hands of the King’s ruthless courtiers and soldiers. His might was irrefutable.
Dark grey smoke blew from his nostrils as he huffed. Warmth. Promises of the fire welling deep within. The dragon stepped closer, talons scraping on the stone. His large head butted against the deconstructed walls of rubble.
He seemed to be waiting for something, unable to leave or shift until he got whatever it was he was searching so desperately for.
"I’ve never seen him like this," Bastian breathed. The vampire braced a hand on Tharen’s shoulder, keeping himself upright.
Tharen gripped Bastian’s side. The show of comradery and support was unusual for the mage. It seemed even he could find it in himself to care about a living creature.
They all waited with bated breath, watching the dragon and trying to figure out what his next move would be… what it was that he wanted.
An onyx-scaled head swung over the group, sharp eyes cataloging their bloodied clothes and battered figures.
And when those piercing green, larger-than-life eyes fell on Luella, all thought was stolen from her.
Graves silently stood by her other side, placing a gloved hand on her injured shoulder, his touch so light she barely took note of it. He was leaning heavily from his injuries, mouth pinched.
"He wants you." Graves sounded as astonished as she felt.
"What?" Luella asked, her voice a quiet and meek thing, careful to call too much attention to where she stood in the circle of protection of the four males.
"Dragons are deeply territorial. More so than other shifters. To them, eye contact is like branding. A mark of ownership or a claim." Tharen stepped closer to Luella, attention volleying back and forth between the dragon and Luella as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing.
Az grumbled behind her. "He can’t claim her. I won’t allow it."
The demon bared his teeth in warning, and a fresh plume of smoke wafted from the dragon’s nostrils, wings stretching wide beside him as he rose to Az’s challenge.
"No, no ," Luella hurried to interject. "No more fights." Placing a palm on Az’s bare skin, her fingers itched to grip him tighter, dragging him into her. She bit her lip and looked up at him. "For me, please. I can’t lose you."
Her brow thumped against his chest. Luella couldn’t look him in the eyes. It was all on the line, just there, brimming under the surface. It wouldn’t take much before he would realize. Before they would all realize—just how much he meant to her.
Az stroked a hand down her back, ignoring the dragon’s rumbles. "For you," he replied. "Anything. But I can’t—I won’t let him have you, Lu."
"And I won’t let you fight him, Az."
They were locked in a battle of wills. The demon with a blood oath to protect her and an urge to be the only one to claim her. And the heirus Princess with a bleeding heart, unwilling to risk losing the one she had come to cherish so.
"As much as this thaws my cold heart, you seem to forget a territorial dragon is breathing down our necks." Tharen’s words were lighthearted, but his posture was anything but. The mage seemed wary of King Vale in his dragon form.
Talons scraped against the stone incessantly. Puffs of breath warmed the exposed skin of her back. Luella turned to face the dragon once more, head craning up to meet his green eyes. His narrowed pupils glinted like the onyx scales covering his body. She swallowed in fear, palms sweaty. Shoulder and chest aching.
He wouldn’t look away from her.
"Go to him," Bastian urged quietly. "He won’t hurt you. I swear it."
"No," she nearly hissed. She wouldn’t listen to his promises; they meant nothing to her. Not even from Bastian. Not in the face of this deadly beast.
How could Bastian promise the King wouldn’t harm her? He couldn’t know that, could he?
Graves cleared his throat beside her, fingers tightening on her shoulder. Even through the material of his glove, his skin felt leeched of all warmth. Like ice.
They were wasting time. They all needed a healer. Especially Graves and Az.
"Do it. Now," Graves ordered.
The dragon’s eyes narrowed into slits. It reminded her so much of how the King had looked at her with such scrutiny the first time she had seen him—when she was thrown onto the steps of the palace before him, awaiting her fate.
But this time, those eyes held no malice toward her. Only to the ones around her. In his shifted form, the beast would have taken over, robbing the King of all rational thought. To him, anything standing in the way of what he wanted was a threat, ready to be taken down with a puff of fire-filled breath or a swipe of sharp claw.
Luella couldn’t let this escalate. She wasn’t sure how he felt about Az, but she knew the King would never forgive himself if he harmed the others. Even if he never admitted it.
She steeled herself with a sharp breath, her chest feeling like it may crack as it rose. "Okay. But not for you. And not for me. To keep Az safe," Luella said, with a voice quiet as a whisper and soft as smoke.
Eyes of amber and the scent of rich cocoa were at the forefront of her mind when she made her decision.
She left the cocoon of safety the males around her offered. Az’s hand fell from her, and Graves urged her forward with a soft nudge on her lower back.
Bare feet padding against cool marble, she carefully stepped over the fallen bits of stone, hands scrambling as she climbed over the fallen rock and large rubble. This close to the edge, she could see where the open hole dropped down far into the sea below, only a short face of cliffs disappearing down into the watery depths. She knew the sea would be icy cold. The climate in Serpentis was frigid, and the air whipped around her. The only warmth came from the short puffs of smoke leaking from the dragon’s snout. He was unmoving where he perched upon the rocks, and Luella couldn’t help but feel like a lamb being led off to slaughter.
She crawled over a stone, knees scraping along the rough surface before she stopped. Her legs were wobbly under her as she stood to her full height. The stone offered her a higher vantage point, bringing the top of her head to the chest area of the dragon. All she would have to do was reach out her arm, and she could touch those glittering scales.
What would he feel like? Would they be as hard and unforgiving as his persona? Or as soft and silky as they looked. Sleek onyx scales so closely fit on top of each other that they looked like ripples of fabric.
Her chest rose and fell with short little pants of her feared breathing. Luella met King Vale’s green eyes. Wings so large, they blocked the tiny rays of dawn, trying to dispel the shadows of night. The dragon was warm and grand, and even when she should be scared, she wanted nothing more than to let herself be wrapped up in those wings, kept safe and protected.
Ever so slowly, the dragon lowered his head, eyes finally breaking from hers. Submission. This dragon… The King.
He was submitting to her.
His snout prodded the air before him, huffs of smoke blowing golden tendrils of her hair away from her cheeks. The warmth called a flush to her skin as he drew closer. Waiting. He was still waiting for something. She resisted the urge to look behind her, afraid to break the trance that had befallen him lest it make him turn that dragon’s prideful cruelty on her.
The others were silent behind her.
She was on her own.
When the dragon did not move his head from his lowered position, she hesitantly lifted her uninjured hand. Her fingers shook as she reached out to him, a constant quake speaking of her pure, unadulterated fear. One wrong move, and she would be burnt to a crisp.
Heat radiated from the scales like embers sparking over coal.
A low grumble sounded from deep within his chest. It didn’t sound threatening. If anything, it was peaceful. A pliant state overtook her, turning her limbs to mush. Stretching forward, she closed the last bit of space between them, and her hand rested upon the dragon’s snout.
He was soft and pleasantly warm to the touch, so different from the thick heat that radiated from him. Her fingertips were merely ghosting over his scales, but she yearned to touch more, stroke her hands over the large wings. Feel the power that rippled below the surface.
Lips parting, she waited for him to pounce. What if it was the wrong move?
The rumble grew lower, longer, a drawn-out purr welling from the deepest parts of the dragon’s soul, radiating out and soothing her worries away.
The dragon’s snout pushed firmer into Luella’s palm. A smile tugged at her lips.
"Hello," she whispered under her breath.
A grumble was the only answer she received.
But it was enough.
"Somehow, you’re not as frightening this way." Luella let out a low laugh, the dragon making an answering chuff, tendrils of smoke blowing in her face.
The beast preened under her touch, scales warm against her palm. The dragon could open its mouth and swallow her in an instant, but Luella was not afraid.
She knew shifters were overcome by their basal instincts in their shifted forms, and the King was no exception. Right now, he wasn’t King Vale but a fire-breathing dragon who knew only two things: to possess and to kill.
And right now, he wanted the first—to possess her.
Why didn’t that scare her as much as it should?