Page 16 of Cursed with the Dragon Prince
I’m intrigued by the possibility.
And try as I might to deny it, I’m drawn to Drakon too, no longer afraid of his strength, and my gaze settles on his lips. They’re tougher than a man’s, and my fingers drift to my own mouth, checking that my lips have thickened too. Despite the roughness, they’re still sensitive, and my lips tingle where my claw presses into them.
Drakon’s chest stills when I do, like he’s holding his breath as I hold mine too. My throat tightens with a reaction I barely recognize.Desire.
I haven’t felt desire since before I was married, a young woman who only had daydreams of lovemaking, back before my former husband taught me sex didn’t need to be pleasurable.
My heart flutters as Drakon’s gaze rakes up and down my body, and I’m left wondering what has changed. Because I’m trying to learn him by heart, fighting the urge to touch his scales and test whether they feel like mine. I want to know if his lips are as sensitive as mine.
I take a step closer, and he does the same. A shiver runs down my spine as he reaches for my face, cupping my chin in his palm. I tremble at his touch.
He towers over me, and I step into his shadow, sliding my hand around his waist. I examine the dense muscles of his back as he holds me against his chest, pressing my face flush against him. I hold my breath, holding his scent in my lungs.
My heart pounds louder. This feelsnice—the pleasure surprising but welcome.
“Ahem.”
We’re interrupted, and I flush, feeling caught in something immoral. But when I turn to see who spied us, I find Kaliyah. She’s… smiling.
The elder offers a glass of ruby red drink. “I didn’t mean to interrupt,” she says, “but the clan is hoping you’re ready to return.”
Drakon swallows, his embarrassment mirroring mine, but he doesn’t seem as penitent. My stomach twists in knots, desperate to end this lust before it grows. At home, being caught in such an embrace would start rumors, adding injury to my already ruined reputation. However, Kaliyah seems more amused than judgmental.
The whole situation stuns me. The flame of desire seemed lost with my youth, but whatever just happened with Drakon felt…good. Good enough that it chases away the creeping shame—there are bigger problems to face.
“This should calm you,” Kaliyah says, handing me the juice.
I accept, taking a sip. My tastebuds find flavors I’ve never noticed before, and once again, I’m reminded of how different my new existence is. Taste and smell and skin. Every sensation is new.
It’s still overwhelming. But I’m past the panic, and it also becomes… interesting.
My curiosity is further fueled by that sense ofhomeI didn’t know I was lacking. I thought home was with a family that avoided me, afraid my scales would spread. Home was a place of necessary security, with food in my belly and a roof over my head.
“We’re going to have a banquet,” Kaliyah says. “But first, I’ll take you to the thermae so you can bathe. I’ll bring you clean clothes, and we can talk. As for you, Drakon, please help with the preparations.”
He nods, clearly trusting me to her care. The elder smiles encouragingly, and I suspect she might answer my questions more completely and with less distraction than quiet, sensual Drakon.
I finish the drink, steeling myself by contemplating the horizon. In the clear daylight, I’m certain I can see the distant continent. It’s familiar, and I’m drawn to it, but I force mygaze back to the obsidian lava-streaked volcanoes that cover the island.
By the time I finish the drink and return to the central cavern, I’m a little more grounded.
Kaliyah leads, while Drakon follows me. Single file, we enter the hall, step down from the dais, and weave through the crowd. The clan shifts, making space as Kaliyah walks to one of the several tunnels connected to the central cavern.
The dragon fae keep a respectful distance as I pass, bowing their heads. Some look at me with awe—an expression that I mirror, taking them in. Their scales are in countless colors, from vibrant pinks and deep browns to sea greens and vivid blues, every shade highlighting a unique beauty of their golden-brown skin.
There is one other with red scales, the same hue as Drakon, and she scoffs as we pass. She looks at me directly, her face grim. Long parallel scars are clawed into her arm, from shoulder to wrist. They are old, the skin irrevocably damaged but healed.
“Aunt Scorpia,” Drakon greets her.
Her scowl moves past me and settles on him. While some members of the clan appraised me uncertainly, she’s the first one who makes me feel afraid.
That look. It’s possible shedespisesme, or maybe Drakon—it’s hard to tell. Goose bumps, not the good kind, run down my spine.
Kaliyah frowns but does little to intervene. “I’ll talk with Reina as she bathes, and we will return for the banquet,” she instructs, leading me away from Drakon.
Drakon
Reina is a sight to be seen, remade with her purple and pink scales, a blessing that was forced upon her. Once she overcame her distress, she seemed pleased with thetransition. Gone is the fearful woman I chased into a cave, and I’m relieved to see she wears the transformation well.
