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I hear movement around the corner and turn just in time to see a shadow approaching. “Stay behind me, Rose.” Ender pushes me behind him. The move feels less protective and more out of obligation. I don’t question it though. With a nickname like The Guardian, I feel relatively safe he won’t let me get hurt.
Probably.
My body stills as the shadow rounds the corner, reaching us. An undignified squeak leaves my lips, alerting the scaly creature in front of me. It’s the size of a large farm animal, scales covering its whole body. There are two black horns on top of its head, matching the spikes going down its tail.
“Is that a?—”
“Dragon, yes. A child,” Ender says and my eyes grow wide. A child? The child in question looks like they could use me as an ottoman. If this is a child then…how big are the adults?
“Rayn, it’s a pleasure to see you again. You’ve grown since I’ve last seen you,” Ender says and I can hear the smile in his voice as he speaks. The warmth in his tone contradicts the imposing man standing in front of me. I have a feeling Ender could overpower anyone with the snap of his fingers, but instead, he’s fondly…petting the dragon?
If dragons could purr, I’m sure the one in front of us would be doing just that as Ender scratches behind their ear. The way the two look at each other seems like they are sharing a private conversation.
A few moments go by and Ender finally steps away from the young dragon. “He is going to get King Malix.” As he says this, the young dragon stretches his wings. Using his back legs, he pushes off the ground, immediately taking flight. The air from his wings sends me stumbling back.
Before I can fall on my ass, Ender’s hand shoots out to steady me. “Thanks,” I murmur. But then remember I’m mad at him. “Don’t think I forgot about this whole husband thing. What the hell? That wasn’t part of our deal.”
He sighs like he’s dealing with a petulant child rather than a full grown adult. “It was, actually. Section 2, fourth bullet point. I thought you said you read it thoroughly?”
“I did…pretty thoroughly,” I say indignantly, getting caught in my lie.
“Pretty thoroughly is not thoroughly, Ms. Briar. I suggest if you bargain for the life of a loved one again, then you might want to consider reading the entire contract. In exchange for saving your sister, you will marry the dragon king and help him win his war against the Nephilim.”
“The what?”
“Nephilim,” he repeats as if I should already know what that means.
“Ignoring that for now”—because I fully intended to figure out what a Nephilim is—“how is being married supposed to help win a war?” It made no sense. It was like Ender was purposefully being obtuse.
“Have you ever heard the expression love is the most powerful force in the world? I suspect there lies your answer, Ms. Briar,” Ender says dismissively.
There’s so much to unload in that statement, so much I want to say, especially about love being the most powerful force. Ender is sadly mistaken if he believes love isn’t a fragile thing that can be broken the moment someone’s mind changes. But I don’t get a chance. New footsteps—decidedly human—echo against the stone flooring. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up as, presumably, my husband-to-be rounds the corner.
I don’t know what I was expecting, but it isn’t this pussy-tingling man. If he’s a dragon, he certainly doesn’t look like one now. This man is built like a Viking, with the tattoos to match. He’s shirtless, because of course he is, and it gives me a good glimpse of the markings covering his body—intricate patterns and symbols laid out as if telling a story.
I force my gaze away from his chest and peer into those soft olive-green eyes. He’s studying me as hard as I’m studying him, but he makes no attempts to greet me. Instead he pulls his attention away from me—with something akin to reluctance in his expression?—to greet Ender.
The men exchange pleasantries and I use this time to take in more of my dragon husband-to-be. I’m a sucker for a man with facial hair, so his closely-cropped beard is doing things to me. Things I most certainly don’t want to feel because I’ve all but sworn off men with pretty faces. From my experience, they tend to hurt you the hardest.
“Malix, this is Rose Briar. I assume you will protect your new wife while she is in your care. I don’t need to remind you what will happen if you don’t.” Ender raises a brow, awaiting his answer.
Malix’s eyes narrow slightly. He doesn’t seem to be one who appreciates being questioned. “Ms. Briar will be safe.” His answer is curt and dismissive. I get the sense that there might be a history between the two, but that’s information I’m obviously not privy to.
“What happens if I’m not protected?” I ask because these men aren’t going to talk about me as if I’m not in the room—not as long as I can help it. I hate being out of the loop and I feel way out of my depth here.
“You will be,” Ender says cryptically, providing no further explanation as to how he knows this. He’s doing that shit a lot and the verbal whiplash is getting out of hand.
“Excuse me, but I don’t belong to anyone. Contract or no contract.” I scowl, not caring that I’m the only human among two powerful and probably ancient supernatural beings.
“Of course, Ms. Briar,” Ender says, but in a way that feels like he didn’t truly acknowledge what I said. He’s infuriatingly confusing.
“I believe that is everything, then?—”
“Hardly,” Malix interrupts Ender. “You still haven’t told me how this marriage will help strengthen our defenses and keep the Nephilim at bay.”
“I have though, Your Highness. It’s not my fault if you didn’t like my answer.”
“It’s not a matter of liking, it’s a matter of it not making any damn sense.” Malix’s lips curl back, exposing the shiny white teeth underneath. I’m glad to know I’m not the only one annoyed by Ender. I have at least one thing in common with my husband-to-be.
