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Julian touched my hand and pushed his power into my body, and my inner dragon answered his call. She recognized his strength and wanted him. Ached for him. The human in me wanted to run screaming out the door.
I now understood my position perfectly. I was trapped in the enemy’s hands with no way out but death.
ChapterEleven
The dining room was decorated much like the room I’d just left. Black surrounded us on all sides. A black lacquered table dominated almost the entire room. Yards of red velvet fabric ran down the length of it and pooled to the floor like blood. Heavy gold candlesticks sat at even intervals down the length of the table, and each one held slender white tapers.
I’d been brought a plate with a large cut of medium rare veal, topped with melted butter and garnished with parsley for color. Only good manners kept me from shoveling it in like an animal. The last time I’d eaten had been with Noah, and I’d hardly touched it.
Julian and I sat at each end of the long table, fully aware of each other and every little movement that was made, despite the distance that separated us. The silence was filled with tension.
“Are there other Bellators besides Xana?” I asked to fill the void.
“Xana is the only Bellator born of our people since the Banishment.”
“You’ve done a good job hiding her.” He didn’t try to dispute the fact that he had, in fact, been hiding her all these centuries. “How could she control my mind? She’s not an Enforcer.”
His lips quirked in a smile. “That is a secret of my clan. But just know that Xana is under my protection. She is my sister.”
I choked on a piece of veal, and took a long drink of wine to clear my throat. “Sorry, I missed the family resemblance.”
Amusement crossed his face and he nodded. “Xana was the first of Dimitris’ children. I was the last. There are hundreds who came between us. My father was quite proficient at populating our clan.”
“What happened to the rest of them?”
“Most of them are still living. They are thriving members of my clan. Those I would call on if we faced war.”
“You have that many Ancients in your clan?” I put down my fork in surprise. There were only four in my own. I couldn’t imagine what Alasdair would have done if faced with that many other dragons of such significant power. “Do they challenge you for power often?”
“No, they all know they cannot defeat me. I’ve never had to fight for my position. When my father died, I stepped into his place without difficulty. The others sensed my power. And they feared it. You would be wise to follow in their footsteps.”
He didn’t have to worry about that. I had plenty of fear of his power. Julian was the son of Dimitris—one of the five Drakán survivors after our world was destroyed, and the Archos who masterminded my own grandfather’s defeat at a human woman’s hands. I couldn’t help but wonder if Julian had also succeeded in populating his clan. The ability to procreate was considered a great gift from the gods, since it happened so infrequently.
“No, I have no children of my own,” Julian said, reading my mind again. “Though I’ve certainly tried. But there is always the possibility it will happen someday soon.”
The look he gave me was so blatantly full of desire I felt my own need rise up before I could control it. This was not happening. I didn’t know what games Julian was playing, but I wanted no part of it. Anything that happened with Julian would just be a calculated maneuver in our own battle.
I deliberately slowed my heartbeat. I didn’t like what was happening to my body. To my dragon. She recognized Julian for what he was—an alpha male—and she wanted him. To hell with any consequences or the fact we barely knew each other. It was at times like these when my human body and inner dragon fought the most.
Dessert was brought out by a well-dressed servant, his uniform black like everything else in the palace I’d seen so far. His skin was pale and his demeanor subservient as he bowed low before leaving. I was glad to see the diamond-shaped pupils in his amber eyes. I wouldn’t think even Julian could stand the temptation of having a human living with him.
Dessert was a delicate chocolate mousse served in a crystal goblet that melted on the tongue and succeeded in soothing my dragon. I’d done everything but pick up the goblet and lick the last dregs of chocolate from the bottom of the glass when Xana slammed into the room, knocking the heavy double doors against the walls with a crash.
She held a struggling young Drakán in her grasp. His nose was broken, and dried blood covered his mouth and down to his neck. One of his eyes was swollen completely shut. Xana picked him up and threw him onto the middle of the table. The table runner and candlesticks crashed to the floor, along with the crystal dessert goblets. Xana bowed before Julian then left the room.
Tension and the threat of violence filled the air as I waited for Julian to say something.
“What do you have to say for yourself, Petyr?” Julian asked.
Petyr spat at Julian and stared at him defiantly. He was a tall gangly man with thick, sandy blond hair. He probably would have been handsome if his face wasn’t so swollen. I gauged his age to be no more than a couple of centuries at most, but I could sense his power and the hate that fed it. Petyr was strong—as strong as one of the Ancients in my own clan.
The silence was filled with energy, and I made sure to sit perfectly still so as not to draw any attention to myself. It would be interesting to observe how Julian handled his clan, and if he was really as powerful as he felt. Taking on Petyr wouldn’t be a walk in the park.
Everything in the room was completely still. It didn’t even seem as if we were breathing. Petyr’s body suddenly flew across the room and hit with a painful thud against the black granite wall. The stone cracked behind him, but Petyr just grinned as blood stained his teeth and dripped from the corner of his mouth. His feet didn’t touch the ground, and he was held spread-eagle against the wall. Hate shone like madness behind the green of his eyes.
Julian relaxed in his chair and stretched out his legs, crossing them at the ankles. It was as if he were lounging by the pool instead of holding a man’s life in his hands. It didn’t seem as if it took him any effort at all to control Petyr’s body. I couldn’t believe his indifference to what was happening.
Julian repeated his earlier statement. “I asked you a question, Petyr. I expect it to be answered.”
