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By Amelia Shaw
DAMON
“Sire.” The voice of my chief advisor startled me out of my thoughts. “They’re here.”
I straightened and stood up from my throne, striding forward into the center of the room. It was customary to greet a fellow king on equal ground. I could not meet my guests from high on my throne.
The formal clothes I wore were stiff and uncomfortable. I much preferred to wear my everyday attire, but my advisors had cautioned against it. I found all the court rules and regulations stifling, especially when my mind and my focus was on the repair work I’d been carrying out with my men this morning.
Still. Stavrok had shown me great generosity during the battle by coming to our aid. Not to mention what he’d done for us since we started repairing. It was only fitting that I return that favor by allowing him and his cousin to visit and see the renovations.
Plus, it gave me a chance to show the other kingdoms that we were slowly regaining our former strength. My ancient house—the family of ice dragons that had ruled the north for generations—had survived the raiders.
The castle wasn’t the only thing my father had driven to ruin. I needed to rebuild alliances, treaties. And the best way to do that was to ensure peace with my fellow rulers.
The corners of my mouth lifted into a polite, welcoming smile as the doors opened.
“His Majesty, King Stavrok of the Bravdok Clan, and his cousin, the Princess Cassandra.”
Stavrok strode into the room with all the brazen confidence I remembered. The years since the battle hadn’t changed him that much; only a few more threads of silver in his hair indicated that time had passed.
I greeted him with a nod, and he grinned back, charging over with his hand outstretched, ready to pull me into a friendly bear hug.
He only managed to get halfway to me, however, before I caught sight of the other newcomer standing behind him.
My dragon woke from its slumber, uncoiling inside my chest. I gasped, trying to push him down.
Something I’d never felt before pulsed through my veins, dark and hot, filling me with a single-minded purpose: a desire like I’d never known before.
What the hell is this?
Whatever it was, I had no power to stop it.
My vision began to change. Everything in the room faded out of focus. And nothing else mattered. Not my kingdom. Not my castle repairs. Not the fact that I was a king.
Only she remained.
Her chestnut brown hair hung in loose curls, dusted with snowflakes from her journey. Her eyes were wide and fringed with dark lashes. Unlike most of the shifters I had met, who all had icy, pale blue eyes, hers were a deep, warm brown.
I need her.
The realization hit me like an anvil. I didn’t know what it meant. And I didn’t have time to work it out. I strode forward, my gaze zeroed in on my prize.
Stavrok stepped in front of her, blocking my path. He knocked away my hands outstretched for her. I let out a deep growl, prepared to shift if I needed to fight the other man. My neighboring king.
Stavrok was on the brink of fighting as well. I caught sight of his dragon when his angry gaze flashed to meet mine. Hot rage curled within me and I lowered my stance. Stavrok would not keep her from me.
She wasn’t any woman. This one was mine.
I knew the difference. I’d had women before. I was a dragon king, and I had to satisfy my appetite for pleasure alongside everything else.
The stresses of recent years meant I’d tamped down my desire. In the face of all I had to build, a fumble with a maid or some woman in town felt like a waste of time. I had responsibilities, more important things to deal with than my sex drive.
Not that countless women hadn’t put themselves in my path on purpose. I was their king. More often than not, I’d rebuffed them.
And this was why. She was why.
All thought of polite pleasantries and formal introductions were long gone. Stavrok and I circled each other, Stavrok keeping himself between me and the girl as I snarled with impatience.
We weren’t two kings anymore, ready for an official royal visit. This was deeper. Primal.
We were dragon shifters and the need to fight this invader, this intruder in my kingdom, coursed through me as strong as the ocean.
For whatever reason, the mere sight of this girl inflamed my dragon like no other.
Only one thing remained: the feral, frenzied, uncontrollable urge to take her and carry her out of here.
Stavrok shouted something, but I was too far gone to hear it. I could only watch, burning with fury, as he grabbed the girl by the arm and practically dragged her out of the room.
The moment the heavy door thudded closed behind them, I was at the door, pounding against the wood. My shifter writhed in frustration; it was all I could do not to release my anger, shift, and burn down my own door to get to her.
“Stavrok!” I bellowed, fists balled against the immovable oak door. “Open the door, right now!”
“So, it is true,” the voice came back, muffled, from the other side of the door. “Marienne was right.”
I was losing patience. As every minute passed, shifting looked like a more and more appealing plan.
“What is true?”
“You’re my cousin’s true match. Her fated mate,” Stavrok yelled through the door.
I forced myself to take deep, ragged breaths, fighting to regain control. It was easier now that the girl wasn’t in the same room, but knowing exactly where she was, just out of reach... the feeling of it, the knowledge... It was pure torture. I groaned.
“The two of you are destined for each other.”
I pressed my forehead against the door, growling. “Then what are you waiting for? Let me through!”
“You’re not in control, Damon!”
I bared my teeth at him, unseen. Frustration pounded through me.
“She’s young...” Stavrok hissed. “And still a virgin!”
“Stavrok!” Another voice cut in. A sweet, light voice, admonishing him for revealing a truth that had my dragon retreating slowly.
I straightened when I heard her voice, crowding as close as possible up against the door, hoping she would speak again.
“Get yourself together,” Stavrok said. “I’m warning you. If you can’t control your dragon, I will leave, and I’ll take Cass with me. You’ll never see her again.”
He sounded dangerous, deadly. If I were in my right mind, I would have been afraid. Stavrok was a fearsome warrior. I had no doubt that if anything happened to his beloved cousin, he would have my head for it.
I focused on breathing, clearing the fog that had spread through my senses.
“Okay.” I took a few steps back from the door. “I’m ready.”
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