I winced, teeth flashing as we stepped into his rooms. “Best not let anyone else hear you say that.”
“It’s a fair claim, is it not?”
“It is, but with that logic, Father will keep all the females here. We won’t offer any other kingdom dragons unless they can be under the protection and leadership of a Draconis ruler.”
“Small details,” he sighed, rubbing the side of his neck as he unclasped the chains of his mantle. “All of it must be negotiated.”
Greaves passed me, sweeping through each space before he began to disarm himself.
“Mother spoke to me about the wedding.” I followed Kallias into his dressing room, where Greaves helped him remove the yoke from his shoulders. “It’ll be in true Draconis fashion.”
“And are you willing to also endure a Radaanian wedding?” His voice was weary, as if the idea already exhausted him.
“For you? Anything.”
His guard grunted, then cleared his throat, placing the mantle on its stand and backed away, like love was a catching thing.
“And you, Greaves?” I asked, folding my arms and eyeing him. “You’ll put up with me?”
He leveled a glare at me, jaw tight. “I’ve survived one wife. I can stomach another.”
Kallias flinched, shooting him a warning look.
“I am not Eldeiade,” I said, low and sharp. The two might be friends, but he could show some respect.
“Hence why he’s bedding you.” Greaves untucked his tunic and pointed at his king. “I’ll return in an hour.”
“Noted.”
I looked between them. Kallias made no comment against the jab.
“An hour alone?” I asked after the guard disappeared through the door.
“Which is why he reminded me.” Kallias sighed as he pulled off his tunic. “He doesn’t eat during the day unless we’re without company. This is his moment to escape us both—and fill his belly.”
He unbuckled his belt, letting it hang free. I stepped forward, ran my hands along his chest, fingers ghosting over the bandage.
“Seems to be healing.” My thumb brushed the linen. No blood. I tugged the knot loose and unraveled the wrap, revealing a long scab stretching across his skin.
“It’s been well tended,” he murmured. His gaze dropped to my mouth, and his arms slid around my waist as he pulled me into him.
My body met his, the linen dangling from my fingers. His heat soaked through the fabric of my dress, radiating across my skin. Greaves, politics, everything outside this moment—forgotten. Only his eyes remained. Heavy. Hungry.
“An hour is a long time,” I whispered, sliding my thumb beneath the edge of his waistband.
“Not nearly long enough.” His groan curled in my ears. He dipped low and brushed his mouth over mine. The scruff on his jaw scraped my skin, leaving trails of heat. I lifted onto my toes, pressed harder into him.
He caught my bottom lip, teeth grazing. Then he pulled away, lips brushing my ear. “The things I want to do to you.”
Fire roared through my blood. I dropped the bandage and slipped my hand to the nape of his neck, trying to bring him closer. But his mouth wandered to my throat, trailing slow, deliberate kisses across my skin.
My knees faltered. I moaned and gripped his shoulder, clinging to him as the world narrowed to breath, touch, heat.
“I want you,” I hissed, hips pressing flush to his.
His smile grazed the crook of my neck. “I know.”
Fingers tapped along my spine, teasing the lacings of my dress but never loosening them. The high collar choked me. Warmth bloomed under my skin. I couldn’t breathe when he let go like this—when desire silenced his discipline.
