Page 73 of Blood Singer

Apparently, dragons needed help with that. A lot of help.

"You've given my people hope," Kavan said softly. "The shadow of extinction isn't hanging over us anymore. That's because of you."

"It's because of us," I corrected. "You're the one who agreed to try something new. You convinced the traditionalists this was worth pursuing."

His expression darkened slightly at the mention of traditionalists, and I knew we were both thinking about Verrater. About the public execution, when Kavan stood before his people and condemned the traitor to death by dragonfire.

I'd watched from the castle walls as Kavan shifted into his massive dragon form, black and gold scales gleaming in the sunlight. I'd watched as he opened his jaws and released a torrent of flame that consumed Verrater and three of his closest conspirators in seconds.

It should have horrified me. Should have made me question what I'd gotten myself into.

But all I'd felt was a grim satisfaction that justice had been served. Verrater had orchestrated Marion's death seven hundred and fifty years ago. He'd kidnapped me, planned to kill me, and tried to destroy any chance Kavan had at happiness. He'd gotten exactly what he deserved.

"You're thinking about the execution," Kavan said, reading my expression.

"I'm thinking about how I should probably feel worse about watching someone burn to death," I admitted. "But I don't. Is that terrible?"

"No." His arms tightened around me. "He tried to take you from me. He would have killed you without hesitation. Feeling satisfied that he faced justice for his crimes doesn't make you terrible. It makes you honest."

Through the bond, I felt his own complicated emotions about that day. The rage that had consumed him when he'd learned what Verrater had done, the satisfaction of finally avenging Marion's death, and the relief that the threat to me was permanently eliminated.

"Besides," I said, trying to lighten the mood, "I've got it on good authority that dragonfire executions are considered quite merciful. Quick and clean, as these things go."

"Who told you that?" Kavan asked, his lips twitching.

"Rhucard. He said if it were up to him, he'd have made Verrater suffer a lot longer." I paused. "Then he asked if I thought 'enjoys long flights and longer conversations' was too cheesy for his dating profile."

Kavan laughed outright at that, the sound filling our chambers and making something warm bloom in my chest. I loved making him laugh. Loved seeing the stern, brooding king transform into someone lighter, happier, more at peace.

His expression changed then. A flicker of emotion that I couldn't quite identify. Anticipation, maybe. Or nervousness. It was gone before I could examine it too closely, replaced by that familiar warmth that always made my heart skip.

"Speaking of Rhucard," I said, watching Kavan's face carefully, "I ran into him in the corridor yesterday. He was with Murdette, and they both went dead silent when they spotted me. Like I'd interrupted something important."

Kavan's expression stayed carefully neutral, but through the bond I felt a spike of something that felt suspiciously like guilt. "Rhucard's always up to something. You know how he is."

"Mmm." I traced a finger along his collarbone, feeling his muscles tense beneath my touch. "And what about Sanyra and Amy? They've been acting strange too. Every time I ask about their plans for today, they change the subject."

"Have they?" His voice was too casual, too carefully modulated. I felt his amusement mixing with that nervous anticipation, and I knew he was hiding something.

"Kavan." I pulled back to look at him properly. "What's going on?"

"Nothing's going on." But his lips were twitching, fighting a smile, and his hands had moved to my waist in that possessive way that always made my breath catch. "Can't my cousin and her mate have their own private plans?"

"Not when those plans involve sneaking around and whispering in corners." I narrowed my eyes at him. "And definitely not when Murdette's involved. She's been bustling around the castle for days, and when I asked what she was preparing for, she just smiled and said I'd find out soon enough."

Through the bond, I felt his satisfaction at keeping me in the dark, mixed with something deeper. Love and protectiveness and something almost vulnerable. He was planning something. Something that involved all of them.

"You're not going to tell me, are you?" I asked.

"Tell you what?" His expression was the picture of innocence, but his golden eyes danced with barely suppressed mischief. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"You're a terrible liar." I poked him in the chest. "I can feel you through the bond, remember? You're practically vibrating with whatever secret you're keeping."

"Am I?" He caught my hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a kiss to my palm that sent heat spiraling through me. "Maybe I'm just vibrating because my beautiful mate's standing here in nothing but my shirt, looking at me like she wants to jump me."

"Don't try to distract me with sex," I said, but my voice had gone breathless. The way he was looking at me, the heat in his eyes, the possessive grip of his hands on my waist, it was working. "I want to know what you're planning."

"I'm not planning anything." His lips curved into a smile that was pure wickedness. "But if I were, it would be a surprise. And surprises are meant to be kept secret until the right moment."