Page 7 of The Kraken Bride

“Here we are.” Freyja stopped before double doors crafted from dark sea-wood and banded in silver coral. The royal crest was carved so deeply it appeared ready to crawl free. “I’ll return at veil to collect you for dinner.”

Veil. Because kraken lived in a dome under the sea, they didn’t count time by numbers but descriptions of the water. “Veil is…” I flipped through my mental files. “Early evening, ja?”

“Veil is veil.” She marched off.

I sighed. Currently, the hour was dimwake, or late afternoon. Enough time to rest, center and stretch.

Sighing, I entered the room. Oh, wow. Nicer than I’d expected. Layered linens in sea colors draped the bed. Luminous crystals glimmered overhead, filling the space with light that danced over the walls like sunlight on the ocean floor. Gauzy draperies hung across the entrance to a balcony.

Two doors stood opposite the bed. Tugging the first open… a bathroom. The other, a closet, with a single dress hanging from a rod. A stunning creation of ice-blue with side cut-outs and a sweeping skirt of matching silk split at the sides.

Such fine material. But… was this what I was supposed to wear to dinner?

Nein. Nein, thanks. Far too sexy for an in-suite one-on-one. I closed the door with a decided thud.

Charm him, change his mind, be a vault—and also refuse the dress provided for me and meet him in my preferred armor. My diplomacy instructor would have wept. But tonight I’d need every scrap of courage I could get. So I’d go just as I was. Ja. Plan accepted, no need for a mental debate.

Craving fresh air, I eased onto the balcony. A cool, sea-scented breeze welcomed me, whisking locks of hair from their pins. I stood upon a wonder of coral and polished nacre, its railing formed from twisting shells and living sea-glass.

Below the royal gardens glowed a breathtaking maze of swaying anemones, coral hedges and bioluminescent blooms. I closed my eyes for a moment, enjoying the next gentle caress of wind. Oh! I’d read about this. Though we were submerged in the ocean, where humans couldn’t reach, and surrounded by a clear dome, runes etched along the surface acted as doorways between worlds, constantly circulating air.

All perfect fodder for my pros and cons list regarding a romance with King Sebastian.

Voices drifted up, yanking me from my head. I stiffened, my lids popping open. Dragons were curious by nature, and it wasn’t really eavesdropping when someone spoke so loud I could hear it, right?

I scanned below until… there. Next to a large wooden crate in the center of the garden waited King Sebastian.

Though I’d only escaped his presence minutes ago, my body reacted, cells buzzing and bones vibrating.

Please be attraction, not fate. Please.

He stood flanked by two soldiers. One was the man who’d whispered in his ear during my formal greeting, and the other was as tall as a mountain. The three of them were examining whatever filled the crate, all of them on edge, retractable tridents drawn.

What in the world could be inside to cause such aggression? One of those nightmare-inducing deepwater eels Henry had warned me about?

Whatever occupied those wooden planks was bad enough to unsettle the realm’s most powerful man.

I shuddered.

Dangerous things crammed in a crate were decidedly none of my business. I’d chosen to be a ballerina, not a master-at-arms like my sister Adelaide, and certainly not a ruler like Queen Olyssa. But I was an ambassador now, charged to observe and report back to the dragon court. So, I searched for markings burned into the wood.

Shipping seals. Blood. Anything.

Nothing.

My focus shifted to Sebastian himself, and I went soft all over. Not my fault. Dragons loved admiring lovely things, and the king was beyond beautiful. Something I could soak in now that he was so distracted.

A smile curved the corners of my mouth as I rested my elbows on the rail and propped my chin in my palm. He had shed his tunic, though not his gloves. Muscle stacked upon muscle.

Despite the distance, I had no trouble tracing the images tattooed on his chest. A lattice of ancient sea-runes etched across his skin, forming a shield-like pattern. I couldn’t look away. Could only watch as a bead of sweat trickled between his pectorals, down the ridges of his abdomen, disappearing into the waist of his leathers. My pulse spiked.

What did the runes signify? Obviously, they weren’t doorways that circulated air like the ones on the dome and palace walls.

The scrape of wood against stone rose as he closed the crate’s lid. The muscles lining his forearms flexed as he worked, every movement controlled.

A sound suspiciously like a purr vibrated in my throat.

Bad Bronwyn. Bad. I returned to my list.