Chapter 6

“What?” I squeak, or perhaps I squawk. It’s hard to say with our bodies pressed together like this and my ears roaring as a result.

What does he mean he’s about to kiss me?

His mouth breaks into a self-satisfied grin, yet his eyes hold no mirth. There’s something savage in them. Hungry.

“Everyone is watching,” he says through his teeth.

I stare at him like he’s mad. “Yes, so why would you say you’re going to—to kiss me here?”

“Because we must present a united front.” His eyes fall to my lips. “And afterward, you’ll tell me how you managed to best three of Tirenth’s most skilled warriors.”

This he says in a near purr, all while peering down at me through hooded eyes.

Whether from this, the heat, or the lack of breakfast, I’m left with a thundering heart and a spinning head.

I very nearly fall for his spell. In truth, part of me wants to—a far larger part than I care to admit. I thought he would kiss me at the feast. I wanted him to, and for some unfathomable reason, I want him to even now.

But I wasn’t brought up to waste an opportunity.

“Tell me you’re done with your threats,” I say.

The king draws back as if to size up an unexpected opponent. “What?”

“Tell me you’re done,” I say again, painting on a smile for the crowd. “With locking me in my room. With using Vasna to frighten me. Tell me you’re done, and I’ll let you kiss me.”

His fingers knot in the fabric at my back. “And if I refuse?” he growls, still with that hunger in his eyes. “What will you do?”

“I suppose I’ll have to show you how I bested your guards.”

“Will you now?”

“Yes,” I say, the word but a breath.

He runs his tongue over the tip of one pointed fang as he considers me. How long have we stood here like this? Half a minute at least. Has the crowd started to wonder if something is wrong? Or do they only see two lovers in conversation?

Honestly, I can’t believe he’s giving my proposal such lengthy consideration. It’s not as if I’m offering a chest of jewels. It’s only a kiss…

“You have a deal, Princess,” he says.

My breaths turn shallow, as if I’m coming up from a dive that was far too deep. “Oh,” is all I manage to say as my lashes flutter with surprise.

I suddenly feel like I should have stayed in my room.

He leans nearer, the hand at my back pinning me more tightly against him, the other coming up to grasp my chin. Somewhere in my panicked thoughts, I think how glad I am he’s holding me up because I feel positively faint.

I’ve never kissed a man.

The fact seems ridiculous for a woman my age, but Mother didn’t tolerate dalliances.

I did kiss Luca once on a dare, but we were children.

Does that even count? It doesn’t matter.

What does is that I’m about to kiss the Dragon King in front of all Tirenth, and I’m not even sure how to move my own limbs right now, much less my lips.

As the king tilts my face toward his, my eyes slip shut of their own accord, my heart hammers, my feet tingle.

My feet?

A sleepy hum—distant but unmistakable, like the call of a faraway friend—comes to me from deep beneath the earth. The canteens quiver in response. My eyes spring open.

“Soren,” I say.

He pulls back just enough to glare at me. “What?”

“Water.”

At that singular word, the beast recedes and the man returns. His eyes turn rounded; the hunger fades. He draws a sharp breath, his hands leaping to my shoulders.

“Here?” he asks.

I bob my head up and down. “Yes.”

“You’re sure?”

The sureness of it reverberates through my bones. “I am.”

The king flings a look around him. “This lake has been dry since my grandfather’s time. We’ve tried digging countless wells here.” He doesn’t say this in a tone of disbelief but of amazement.

“This water is deep,” I say. He releases me as I crouch down to lay a tentative hand over the scorching sand. “Sleeping.”

But I can wake it. I can end this drought, win the people’s loyalty, save Vasna.

“How much?” the king asks.

I smile up at him. “Enough to fill this lake to the brim.”

He stares at me in stunned silence. “And how long will it take to bring it to the surface?”

“A week. Maybe two.”

“In just enough time,” he says.

I smile up at him. “In just enough time.”

We gaze at one another, and for a second, I’m struck with the impression he’s going to sweep me up and seize our forestalled kiss. Instead, we both become aware of the crowd’s growing murmur at the same time. I’d forgotten them, the challenge, everything.

Under the heat of his gaze, I almost forget the water.

Clenching his jaw, he turns from me and bellows, “Get a tent out here, now. Our future queen has found water.”

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