Page 32 of Blood Singer

I wasn't fine. I hadn't been fine since that damned reception last night. Watching Leila move through the crowd in that sapphire gown that clung to every curve, watching male after male approach her with interest in their eyes and desire in their scents. I'd wanted to rip their throats out. I'd barely restrained myself from crossing the room and claiming her in front of everyone, marking her as mine in a way that would leave no doubt where she belonged.

Except she didn't belong to me. She was an Alliance diplomat here on a mission, and I was a king who'd spent the past week avoiding her because I couldn't trust myself around her. Because every time I got close, I wanted things I had no right to want. Things that felt like betraying everything I'd believed about Marion and the bond I'd thought we shared.

The female I'd believed was my blood singer. My gift from the universe, lost before we'd even had a chance.

I moved to the weapons rack and selected a new practice blade, testing its weight. The training grounds were mostly empty at this hour. Mid-afternoon, when most warriors were either on patrol or resting before the evening meal. The space opened to the sky, surrounded by high stone walls that blocked the wind but let in the sunlight. Packed earth scarred with boot prints and sword marks stretched before me, and the air smelled of sweat and leather and the particular metallic tang that came from blades striking blades.

"Another round," I said to Torven, but he shook his head.

"With respect, my lord, I think I've had my ass kicked enough for one day." He glanced toward the other warriors who'd been watching from the sidelines, and I saw them all suddenly find reasons to be elsewhere. "Perhaps you should take a break. Clear your head."

I wanted to argue, but the concern in his voice stopped me. I was being brutal, and they all knew it. Fighting like I was trying to punish something. Or someone. Probably myself.

"Fine," I said, driving the practice sword into the weapons rack hard enough that the wood groaned. "Dismissed."

Torven didn't need to be told twice. He gathered his gear and headed for the barracks, leaving me alone in the training ring with nothing but my thoughts and the afternoon sun beating down on my shoulders.

I should have gone back to the castle. Reviewed the agricultural reports Theron had sent over, or met with the technology specialists the Alliance assigned to help us modernize our communications systems. Done literally anything productive instead of standing here replaying every moment of last night in my head.

The way Leila looked when she laughed at something Catherine said, her whole face lighting up with genuine warmth. The way she listened to the nobles' concerns with caring attention that made everyone feel heard. The way she glanced across the room at me, and I noticed the hurt in her eyes when I looked away.

I'd hurt her by avoiding her. I knew that. But what was I supposed to do? Every time I got near her, my control slipped a little further. On that mountain, I'd almost kissed her. Had wanted to do so much more than kiss her. And the guilt that came afterward was so intense I could barely speak during the flight home.

Marion's face kept rising in my memory. The way she'd smiled at me from those cliffs, the way her blood had sung to me in that soft, low melody that made my dragon surge forward with recognition and need. I'd believed she was my blood singer. The one the old lore had promised. And I'd failed to protect her, watched her die because I was too slow, too arrogant, too convinced that nothing could stand against a dragon.

How could I think about another female when Marion's blood song still echoed in my memory?

Except Leila's blood sang too. Similar, yet differently than Marion's. Where Marion's had been a soft, distant melody, Leila's was becoming a symphony, complex and layered and impossible to ignore. The more time I spent around her, the fainter Marion's undertone became, until sometimes I could barely detect it at all beneath the song that was purely, uniquely Leila.

I didn't know what that meant. Among my kind it was unheard of for one to experience two blood singers in a lifetime. This had to be some Alliance manipulation, or fate playing a cruel joke on a king who'd already lost everything once.

I moved to the water barrel at the edge of the training grounds and dunked my head, letting the cold shock drive away some of the heat and frustration. When I came up for air, water streaming down my face and soaking into my training leathers, I caught a scent on the breeze that made every muscle in my body go rigid.

Leila.

She was here. Close. And beneath the familiar sweetness of her blood, beneath the fading echo of Marion that still clung to her like a ghost, there was something else.

Arousal. Sharp and unmistakable and directed at me.

My dragon surged forward with a possessive growl that rumbled through my chest, and I had to grip the edge of the water barrel to keep from shifting right there in the training grounds. The scent of her want was doing things to me that had nothing to do with blood songs or ancient bonds and everything to do with the need to claim what some part of me had already decided was mine.

Except she wasn't mine. Couldn't be mine. Not when I was still carrying Marion's memory like a weight I'd never learned to set down.

I turned slowly, tracking her scent, and found her standing at the entrance to the training grounds. She wore simple clothes today. Dark pants and a tunic in deep green that brought out the color of her eyes, and her honey-blonde hair was pulled back in a braid that left her neck exposed. She looked uncertain, like she wasn't sure she should be here. When our eyes met across the distance, I saw her breath catch.

The arousal in her scent sharpened. I watched color flood her cheeks as she realized I could smell it. Could smell exactly what my presence did to her body.

I should have been gentleman enough to pretend I didn't notice. Should've greeted her politely and asked what brought her to the training grounds. Should've done anything except what I actually did, which was stalk toward her with my dragon riding so close to the surface that I knew my eyes were glowing with inner fire.

"You shouldn't be here," I said when I was close enough that she had to tilt her head back to meet my gaze. My voice came out rough, edged with the growl my dragon wanted to release.

"I was looking for you." Her voice trembled slightly. Not with fear. I'd have smelled fear. This was something else. Anticipation, maybe. Or the same barely-controlled need that was currently shredding my self-control into ribbons. "Sanyra said you'd be here."

"And what did you need to find me for?" I asked, even though I could already smell the lie forming before she spoke it.

"The dating app," she said, but her eyes dropped to my chest, where my training leathers clung to my sweat-slicked skin. The arousal in her scent spiked so sharply I had to clench my fists to keep from reaching for her. "We need to discuss the technical specifications for integrating it with your comm systems."

"The dating app," I repeated flatly. "That's why you came all the way out here?"