Chapter Twenty-Seven
I had a basket full of calming reagents and another full of paralyzing reagents when the Dragon King entered the lab.
He looked handsome and brutal in his royal raiments and gold pauldrons on his shoulders.
Matching vambraces covered his forearms, but that was it for armor, leaving him looking as if he'd chosen the items for decoration rather than any protection they offered.
He was ready for war, but didn't require a sword or shield to fight.
The way my gaze wandered over Falken's body worried me. My attraction to him was quickly becoming an obsession, and I wasn't that sort of man. Still, I was glad I had stayed, both for Falken and the city. It seemed there was more for me to do.
“A mob has gathered on the street before the palace. My guards are barely holding them back.” Falken held out a hand. “We need to address them.”
“We?” I handed him a basket.
He frowned at the basket but took it. “They're blaming you.”
“Me? For what?”
“The bridge.” Falken shrugged. “Everything.”
I grimaced and grabbed the second basket. “People need someone to blame.”
“Yes.” The King hurried out of the lab, his long legs taking him far ahead of me in seconds.
I rushed to keep up, the glass orbs full of glimmering liquid clinking in my basket. “I can calm them enough for you to speak to them.”
“How do these things work?” He slowed enough for me to catch up.
“You just throw them. They'll break and release a gas. Once inhaled, it will take effect.”
Falken cast a look at his basket. “Right. Be careful with the glass bombs.”
I chuckled. “They're fine in the basket. Just don't drop any, or we'll be paralyzed for several hours. Those are the last resort reagents.”
“Gods help me,” he muttered as we took the stairs down to the ground floor.
When we finally exited the palace, we found the courtyard full of horns with more on the walls.
Even the Commander was there, standing front and center before the ground forces.
The gate had yet to be replaced, so they were guarding a massive hole in the outer wall.
Beyond them was a mob of angry citizens, many of them armed with swords.
The city Talons and the King's Horn Army had closed in around the mob, but the citizens didn't seem to care. We were minutes away from chaos.
The crowd chanted, “Bring out the Alchemist! Bring out the Alchemist! Bring out the Alchemist!”
I winced as the King led me to the stairs along the wall and up to the walk. Horns drew out of our way as the King strode to the end of the walk, where it crumbled away. It made for a perfect perch.
The Dragon King set the basket down. “Silence!”
All the horns and talons circling the mob couldn't achieve what the Dragon King did with one shouted word.
The crowd went quiet, swords lowering, and every stare locked on King Falken.
I, however, didn't trust it and put my basket down to pull two orbs from it.
I went to stand beside the King, hands down at my sides.
A few people shouted and pointed at me, but a glare from the King quieted them.
“Master Sevarin has discovered the source of the Silver Rot,” the King bellowed.
“It is not his fault that the only way to remove the rot is to remove specific enchantments. The bridge fell because dismantling it is a delicate procedure, and an accident happened. It has nothing to do with the Master Alchemist!”
“He came, and the rot got worse!” someone shouted.
“The rot is not getting worse!” The King slammed a fist on the stone railing to his right. “We are removing it. That will feel as if things are getting worse for a time, but this is the path to freeing the city.”
“You are destroying the city!”
“This is my decision for my kingdom! Accept it or leave!” the Dragon King roared.
Instead of cowing the crowd, this made things worse.
They shouted and rushed the line of horns barricading the courtyard.
The line buckled. The King scowled at his knights, waiting in the courtyard behind the horns.
He opened his mouth, and I knew he was about to order them to shift in a show of strength.
But scaring a mob with a group of dragons would only make Falken a tyrant.
People would flee the kingdom, just as he dared them to. A king without people isn't a king.
So, before the order could leave his lips, I tossed two orbs into the crowd.
They shattered on the ground, releasing the liquid reagent, which immediately turned into a gas.
The mob didn't even notice, too intent on shouting at the King.
I kept tossing the spheres until I covered the area before the palace, and blue-colored mist rose around the mob.
The Horns and Talons drew back as the mist spread, but the mob couldn't flee.
They breathed in, and the cloud dissipated.
As the fog thinned to nothing, filtered by the mob, it revealed a sea of calm people.
They weren't confused, just relaxed. It made me wonder if the gas could have recreational uses.
Falken lifted his eyebrows at me.
I waved toward the crowd with a smirk.
Chuckling, the King turned back to the mob, now just a crowd.
“The bridge's collapse was a setback, but we will rebuild it better.
Just as we will do for every piece of architecture that must come down.
We must weed out these enchantments so we can start again.
Only then can we become the strong, enlightened city that we were.
I'm asking for your patience, understanding, and help. I cannot do this alone. But if we come together, we can cure all of Sconheit and make it a better place for the next generation. Will you help me?”
The crowd cheered and applauded. As the King beamed and waved at them, I looked down into the courtyard.
The magic-users and alchemists of the palace stood on the palace steps, most of them watching the crowd.
But one of the magic-users stared up at me instead.
As soon as I turned my attention to him, he looked away, but not before I caught his malicious expression.
Frowning, I set his image to memory—a human man with brown hair.
“Sevarin.”
I turned to find the King holding his hand out to me, urging me forward.
As I stepped up beside him, the crowd cheered again.
I stared down at them, annoyed. Just minutes ago, they had wanted my head.
Now, they cheered for me? It was partly my calm inducer, but mainly Falken's speech that had caused the change.
Knowing it didn't help to lessen my irritation.
“Smile,” Falken whispered and grinned at the crowd.
I smiled, nodded, and whispered, “Sure, now you like me, you savages.”
With a chuckle and one last wave, the King turned, drawing me with him.
We grabbed the baskets and walked away together.
The crowd continued to cheer as we left the wall walk and went down to the courtyard, none of them even remembering the gas they had breathed in.
By the time we reached the ground, the magic-users and alchemists were gone. That worried me.
Ignoring the twisting of my gut, I went inside with the King.
As he nodded and smiled at his clapping courtiers, I stewed.
Did I really want this? To stand beside a king and wave like a moron?
Had I truly wanted to be his mate? I hadn't known what life with Falken entailed.
Now, loving him seemed dangerous, and I scrambled for a way to keep the pleasure of our sex going without getting more involved emotionally.
As we approached the fourth-floor landing, I lifted my basket. “I need to take these back to the lab.”
“All right.” He veered onto the landing and led me to my lab.
“Damn it all!” I pushed the door open. “I forgot to lock it.”
“We weren't gone long and most of the palace was watching the mob.
“I suppose. Still, it was careless of me.” I closed the door behind us and locked it. After I set my basket down, I went to Falken.
His eyes widened as I undid the buckles on his left vangrave.
I removed the metal piece and set it on my worktable.
Then the other. Falken was grinning by the time I had his pauldrons off.
Then he was helping me. We were naked seconds later, and I pushed him onto the bed.
Sitting with his feet on the floor, Falken was long enough to lean his back against the wall.
I grabbed a bottle of linseed oil and poured some into my palm.
Without preamble, I rubbed it over his cock.
Falken's eyes widened as I straddled him and immediately took his cock in hand and angled it to my opening.
After a few experimental pushes, I opened enough to slide down his shaft.
Up again and then down all the way. I sat on him, knees spreading wide, and grabbed his shoulders.
He tried to kiss me, but this wasn't about intimacy.
I wanted to establish a barrier between us again, and this was the easiest way to do it.
Evading his lips by flinging back my head, I rode him hard.
My eyes closed, but I couldn't erase the image of Falken beneath me, his muscular body supporting mine.
His hand slid up my chest to fasten around my neck, his thumb below my chin.
Then he squeezed. It brought my head up and opened my eyes. Falken's eyes were glowing.
He held my gaze as he stood and repositioned us so that I was on my back.
My legs fell out to the sides, and I grabbed the back of my knees to pull myself open.
With one hand propped on the mattress just above my head, Falken growled and slammed deep.
Wood squeaked with his every thrust, but he didn't slow.
I had started this to put space between us, but he just barreled through it.
Spread open beneath him, accepting his surging shaft, and writhing in desire, I felt closer to him than before.
With a cry, I emptied onto my belly. As the shudders took me and my channel clenched, Falken cried out as well.
He pulled out of me and rose to his knees.
Towering over me, he held the base of his shaft and climaxed onto my belly, mingling our cum.
As I continued to shiver from my orgasm and the feel of the hot liquid on my skin, Falken climbed off the bed and became the Dragon King.
He turned away and picked up his pants. I watched him get dressed, worried.
Something was wrong. I stood up and grabbed a cloth to clean myself.
“I will not be your distraction, Sevarin.” He turned to look at me, his eyes hot. At least they had stopped glowing.
“What do you mean?” I picked up my pants and pulled them on.
“This.” He motioned at the bed. “Do you think I'm oblivious?
I know what you were trying to do, and it won't work.
You are too close to me now. You can't pull away with sex.” He pointed at me.
“This was just another attempt to leave me.” Then, softer, he added, “I want you to stay, but only if that's what you want too.
If it's not, go. I won't try to stop you again.” And then he left.
I looked from the closing door to the golden gleam of pauldrons and vambraces on the table. He had left them behind. Those beautiful symbols of the King's might taunted me. They told me what I already knew—it was too late to leave.
“Son of a beaker!”