Page 48 of Blood Singer

I slipped inside my room and closed the door, leaning back against it as my pulse raced and my mind spun.

A private dinner. In his quarters. After sunset.

I knew what that meant. Knew what he was offering, what I was accepting.

I should probably talk to Binwee about this. Should get her perspective on the political implications and potential complications. Should think about what it would mean to get involved with a dragon king when I was supposed to be here as a neutral diplomat.

But as I moved to the window and looked out at the village in the distance, at the life and community and beauty I'd witnessed today, I realized I didn't care about any of that.

I'd never been as drawn to anyone as I was to Kavan. Never felt this pull, this certainty. And yes, it was complicated. Yes, there would be consequences.

But I wanted to take the risk.

The sun was still high in the sky, hours away from sunset. I had time to prepare. Time to think about what I was doing. Time to change my mind.

But I knew I wasn't going to change my mind.

And I couldn't wait for sunset to come.

Chapter 14

Kavan

I'd been pacing my private quarters for the better part of an hour, which was ridiculous. I was a king. I'd ruled for centuries. I'd faced down rebellions, negotiated treaties with species that could crack planets, survived a seven-hundred-and-fifty-year hibernation, and killed the previous king in single combat when I was barely two hundred years old.

And yet the thought of Leila Hunter walking through my door in less than an hour had me moving restlessly through my chambers like a nervous youngling preparing for his first hunt.

The balcony doors were open, letting in the evening breeze that carried the scent of the gardens below and the distant sounds of the city settling into twilight. I'd had the table set out there. Nothing too formal, just a small round table with two chairs positioned to catch the view. Argia spread below, the white stone catching the last light of the sun and throwing it back in shades of warm amber. The blue spires of the castle towers rose around us like sentinels, and beyond the city walls, the dark line of the ironwood forest stretched toward the mountains.

Candles flickered in their glass holders on the table, protected from the breeze. I'd chosen wine from the castle cellars. A vintage from before the hibernation that Murdette had assured me was still good. The food would arrive when I called for it, kept warm by kitchen staff who'd been surprisingly enthusiastic when I'd made the arrangements.

Apparently, everyone in the castle had noticed what was happening between Leila and me. Murdette had actually smiled when I'd asked her to coordinate the meal. Artis had looked downright pleased when I told him I wanted privacy for the evening.

I moved to the balcony railing and gripped the stone, trying to settle the restless energy that'd been building all day. My dragon was close to the surface. I could tell by the way sound carried more sharply. The distant ring of a hammer, the rustle of leaves three floors below, the particular creak of a specific stair down the corridor.

And underneath it all, threading through everything like a constant melody, was her scent.

I'd been catching hints of it all afternoon. Wildflowers and sunshine and something warm and entirely unique to her that tightened something in my chest each time. Just traces left in corridors or the gardens, but enough to keep me restless, marking time until sunset.

The sky was doing something extraordinary now, painting itself in layers of orange and deep violet that reminded me of the old tapestries in the great hall, the ones woven before I was born. I forced myself away from the railing and back into my chambers. The space was large. It had to be, to accommodate a dragon in either form. High ceilings and tall windows that let in plenty of light during the day. The furniture was a mix of old and new, pieces that'd survived the hibernation alongside things I'd commissioned in the months since waking. My bed dominated one wall, massive and covered in dark furs and the soft fabrics that Murdette had insisted were more comfortable than the austere linens I'd preferred before. She hadn't been wrong.

I'd lit candles throughout the room, their warm glow softening the stone walls and casting dancing shadows across the floor. In the old days, I wouldn't have thought to do that. I'd slept in complete darkness for most of my life. Dragons had no need of soft lighting. But something about the way Leila's eyes caught candlelight made me want as many flames as I could justify without setting the curtains on fire.

The thought of her seeing this room, this private space that no other female had entered, made something tighten in my throat. Not fear, exactly. More like standing at the edge of a cliff I'd chosen to jump from. The certainty was there. So was the drop.

A knock at the door brought my pulse up sharply. I took a breath before I called out, "Come in."

The door opened, and Leila stepped through.

For a moment, I forgot how to move.

She was wearing a dress I hadn't seen before. Deep midnight blue that shimmered in the candlelight, with a neckline that dipped low enough to short-circuit coherent thought and sleeves that left most of her arms bare. Her honey-blonde hair fell in soft waves past her shoulders, and she'd done something to her eyes that made them look even more green than usual. She was beautiful. Not in the way of formal portraits or diplomatic occasions. Beautiful the way a piece of music can be beautiful, specific and irreplaceable.

The way she was looking at me, nervous and excited and wanting, made something in my chest go quiet.

"Hi," she said, her voice slightly breathless.

"Hi," I managed, then realized I was standing in the middle of my chambers staring at her like an idiot. I moved forward and caught the full force of her scent as I drew near.