But I wasn’t ready.
None of us were.
“Your Majesty?” Ronan’s voice had dropped an octave, dangerous now. “May I see the lady’s face?”
“We didn’t get a good look when she was splayed over your desk,” Tallon added, his words dripping with malice.
Silence.
Kallias was so still. So quiet. Assessing. Judging. His mind raced, calculating the best course of action. He just needed a moment to think of a way out of this mess.
A mess I had put us in.
“Give us privacy,” he commanded, his voice low, cold, and laden with authority. It was his last bluff. We both knew it.
The room spun. My breaths were shallow, frantic—this was all wrong. If Ronan found out like this, if he saw me, he would drag me back to Draconia.
As if on cue, Gyrak’s roar shook the palace walls—loud enough to rattle the floor. A response to his rider’s distress.
“I’m going to have to ask to see her face. Just a glimpse.” Gone was the respect, the ‘Your Majesty’—Ronan was demanding now.
Kallias’ blue eyes—once the serene color of a midsummer sky—opened, but the pain was unmistakable. Wrinkles deepened at the corners, and his jaw clenched with frustration. His mask of calm cracked, revealing the regret he couldn’t hide. His eye twitched again, his face a portrait of tortured decision.
We were trapped. There was no way out. Kallias stood between me and my brother, with Tallon and Egath at his side. The path was blocked, and there was no escaping the mess I had created.
Gritting my teeth, I mouthed,I love you.
Then, I stepped from behind the king who owned my heart.
A breath of silence. A fraction of a second was all I had before Tallon’s brow arched in amused surprise, realizing his father had been seconds from bedding me.
Gyrak’s scream rattled the paintings on the wall, and Egath recoiled, eyes wide with shock.
My brother’s face drained of color, then flushed deep and blotchy. His gaze swept over my torn clothes and disarray, before landing on the king.
Kallias remained unshaken, standing tall as he met Ronan’s furious glare.
“You rutting bas–”
“Ronan!” I snapped, stealing a glance at Greaves.
His tortured expression betrayed his internal struggle. The palace guards stood behind him, their helms concealing their faces, though I knew they’d witnessed every second.
“Nienna!”
My brother lunged at me, his grip vicious as he wrenched my arm, pulling me farther from Kallias. I tripped over the breeches still tangled around one ankle, fumbling with the scraps of my torn dress. I barely managed to keep them from falling.
“You sick bastard!” Ronan roared, Gyrak’s fury echoing his.
“Your dragon!” I shouted, my shriek desperate in the chaos.
“He’ll tear this palace apart!” He seethed.
“Tallon, Egath, remove yourselves.” Kallias demanded, as the dragon’s scream above us caused dust to fall from the ceiling. “Nienna–”
“Don’t you dare say her name!” Ronan stepped in front of me, cutting me off from him.
The Velli ambassador watched in stunned silence, but Tallon’s leer was the worst. His eyes, filled with mockery, danced over my exposed form, savoring my discomfort.
