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His voice caresses me like a lover’s whispered words. I clench my hands to keep a shiver from stealing down my spine. “It’s Tatha, and it is I that am honored, Sire.”
I stand, but when I take a step toward him, he backs up, keeping the distance between us, so I stop. Maybe it’s bad form to approach the King without permission. Surely father would have told me if such a thing was taboo, but then again father is …
Chewing my lip, I glance around again. Being in this place makes my human skin crawl with unfamiliarity, but will the beautiful caves of my home still bring me comfort … after?
I clear my throat, blinking away the burn of tears I know won’t fall. Standing a little taller, I watch King Kemremir, waiting. He’s much bigger than I imagined, and the occasional curl of shadows around his dark skin adds to his larger-than-life energy. For a long moment, he just continues to stare. My fingers tap against the soft drape of my dress where it falls over my thighs. I have the urge to fidget, but I manage to hold still under the King’s seemingly endless gaze.
Finally, he lifts an arm, gesturing deeper into the room. “Please, take a seat and tell me how I can help.”
I turn, slowly making my way to the seating area, passing the overstuffed sofa to sit on the edge of one of the chairs. Its cushion is softer and deeper than I thought, and my body pitches back embarrassingly. I catch myself, adjusting to sit tall, but when I glance at the King, he’s still standing where I left him.
Another moment passes where he just stares at me, then, skirting all the way around the sofa and other chairs, he lowers himself into the farthest seat from me with a grace that’s surprising for a man so large. He barely seems to fit, his muscled thighs pressed to the inner arms of the chair.
He leans back, tapping a black nail on the chair, his eyes never leaving my face. “So, what can I do for you, Tatha?”
The sound of my name on his lips sends a curl of … something through my belly. My skin feels too tight, and my claws want to burst from my small fingers. I blink fast and crack my jaw, trying to pop my ears, though I know that’s not the issue—it’s this form.
Shaking my head, I remember the King asked me a question. Sorrow hollows out my chest, and my words stick in my throat. I have to swallow several times before I manage to say, “My father is dying.”
Genuine pain pinches the corners of Kemremir’s eyes and pulls his lips down in a small frown. His response chases away my own sorrow, and surprise takes its place. The King cares. My heart does a strange little flutter, but I ignore it as Kemremir’s deep voice caresses the space between us.
“I knew he was ailing, but did not realize he was so far gone. Is there anything I can do to help … to lengthen his time? I can send the royal healers to?—-”
I shake my head. “No, your Majesty. Everything that can be done has been done. My father has kept the severity of his failing health a secret.” I swallow around the ball of anger and sorrow. “Even from me, until recently.” Sighing, I shake my head, refusing to relive the many arguments I’ve had with my father. “He’s tired. He … he’s ready.”
The King nods, his frown deepening. “I understand. Tovra is a great leader, and though I haven’t seen him in many years, I will miss my friend.”
Friend? My father and the King are friends?
He leans forward, bracing his muscular forearms on his thighs. “How long does he have?”
“Our healers say a week, maybe days.”
Kemremir sits back and taps his nails on the chair again. “Have arrangements been made to bring him down to the North Lake for his Elevation?”
I shift in my chair.
“Actually, your Majesty, that is the main reason I came here today. My father wishes to be Elevated at the crest of our Mountain, and …” I interlace my fingers, my gaze unfocused on my lap. “He requests you come to our Mountain to perform his Elevation when the time comes.”
Silence greets me, and after a long pause, I look up to find the King’s heavy gaze on me. At least the sadness has left his face, but in its place is … what? His eyes look slightly wider, his fist is closed tight around the arm of his chair, and his head tilts to the side like he’s trying to think of a way to get rid of me, or to eat me, and not in a good way.
A shiver spears down my spine at that unbidden thought, and a deep throbbing pulses low in my belly as if he physically ran his nails down my back. Wetness gathers between my thighs, and my skin goes hot. I hate being human—it’s overwhelming.
Before either of us says another word, a new voice breaks the heavy silence, this one high and amused. “I heard the Lady of the Mountain had blessed us with her presence, and I just had to come see.”
Kemremir’s back goes stiff, and his eyes narrow. My head swivels around to see the newcomer. The man standing at the entrance of the solarium is tall, but nowhere near as tall as Kemremir. His spring-green hair is slicked back, reminding me of a mother that has licked back her youngling’s hair.
His eyes rove my body as he continues, “But what do I overhear? The Mountain clan once again trying to throw off our laws. When was the last time your father actually attended a council meeting?”
His expensive clothes fit perfectly, highlighting his lean, sculpted body. There’s a beauty to him, but it’s like a hibibiscra flower—the bright red blooms will draw you in, but if you dare touch the petals, your skin will itch, burn, then bubble with blisters.
Something about this man screams to stay away, but his words rile me. Who does this pretentious dragon think he is? I sit taller. “It’s actually not dragon law to be Elevated at North Lake, simply tradition.”
The green-haired man smirks, his brow raising. “All the same, our traditions are sacred. The Mountain clan has grown too comfortable in their solitude.”
A witty retort is on the tip of my tongue, but a low growl rumbles from Kemremir, and I turn to find him standing. When did he move? He has maintained his distance but has positioned himself partially between the green-haired man and me. Wispy shadows curl away from the King’s body like a black sun flare, and my lips part in awe. I’ve heard of his shadows, of course, but to see them in person is …
Kemremir’s low voice peels my gaze back to his face. “Inchel, leave. You have insulted our guest with your presence and your words.”
