The Dragon King's Prize

Seal it With a Kiss

The door makes an audible click as the queen mother closes it behind her. I swallow nervously, wondering if the king intends to pick up where we left off last night. 

“Thank you,” I say softly with my head bowed. I hear footsteps approach and I look up to see King Drake coming towards me. 

“For what?” he asks.

“For not giving me back to King Luther. It would have been the easier thing to do,” I reply. 

“The bans have been posted and our engagement announced so it was too late anyway. Furthermore, I wouldn’t give that man one of my dogs, let alone a defenseless woman,” he says succinctly. 

I bristle at him comparing me to a dog. A fire of protest burns in my belly and I stand up and face him. 

“I trust my treatment will be a shade above that of a canine, your highness,” I say sarcastically. 

He narrows his eyes at me, irritated by my defiant tone. He takes a step closer and I root my feet to the floor, determined not to show him how intimidating he can be. I don’t know what comes over me when I’m around him. I was brought up to be amenable to my superiors and especially to my future husband, but he brings out this side of me that I can’t seem to repress. 

“Your treatment will be afforded in kind to your behavior. I told you I like my women obedient, but you seem to keep forgetting that fact,” he replies with an edge to his voice. 

“Maybe a dog would be better suited as your companion after all,” I retort. 

The king doesn’t like this response at all and he pulls my body tight against his, wrapping his fingers in my hair and pulling my head back so I meet his eyes. 

“I will not tolerate insolence, princess, and if you continue to test me, the consequences will be swift,” he says. 

“What are the consequences?” I ask in a breathy voice. 

As much as I try to deny it, I can’t help but turn to putty in his arms. Feeling his hard body pressed against mine is the strongest aphrodisiac and some part of me craves the danger. I move my body involuntarily and his eyes widen just slightly and his pupils dilate. His grip on my hair tightens as he brings my face closer to his. 

“That is a conversation we will have once we are wed. In the meantime, your good breeding should suffice in curbing any ideas you might have to disobey me,” he growls. He releases my hair and trails a finger down my neck and traces the delicate lines of my collar bone.

The second reference to me being regarded as an animal instead of a human being snap me out of my haze. I shove against him as hard as I can and it surprises him enough that he takes a step back. 

“I’m not livestock, I’m a woman! If you can’t handle that I have feelings and opinions, then I beg you to release me from this contract and let me go,” I protest. 

“You just got done thanking me for saving you from Luther, and now you ask to be returned? This is why I don’t take much stock in a woman’s feelings, they change like the wind!” he replies in an exasperated tone. 

He paces in front of me, running a hand through his thick hair. A moment ago I would have given anything to do the same with my own hands and now I would sell my soul to put a continent between us. 

“I don’t want either of you! I thought you would be different. Your sisters are so kind and gentle, but you are just like Luther, a brute!” I exclaim.  His expression darkens and he strides towards me again, this time forcing me to back up so much that I fall back onto a chair and he places his strong arms on either side of me. I am helpless under his furious gaze, both of us breathing heavily and a tension in the air that reeks of desire. When he speaks his tone is low and dangerous and he grabs my chin between his fingers roughly.

“You are innocent in the ways of the world and men and I will forgive you this once for your insult. But I am not a patient man, princess, and you would be wise to remember that,” he informs me.

All at once my emotions overwhelm me. I have been through hell the past few days and had my entire world turned upside down. I was able to be released from the clutches of a brutal and violent man only to be forced into marriage to one who has little regard for me or my feelings. And for some insane reason, I’m desperately attracted to him.

King Drake is terrifying when he’s angry, but some part of me knows he would never hurt me. I also know that he will never love me or treat me as an equal. The idea of living the rest of my life as an ornament to his majesty’s greatness is too depressing to bear. There is a lump in my throat and I fight to keep my sadness at bay.

A single tear escapes my eye and rolls down my cheek. His expression softens for a brief moment and he catches my tear with his thumb, wiping it away in a rare moment of tenderness.

“There is no cause to cry, Wren. I am nothing like Luther and you are lucky that you escaped that fate. I will never physically harm you. My mother and sister would have my head if I did,” he says gruffly, but with a little less anger. It also warms me that he called me by my nickname.

“Some things hurt worse than physical pain,” I whisper with lowered eyes. He tips my chin up and to my surprise he has an understanding look in his eyes.

“That may be true, but you must never let anyone see your weakness. You will be my queen and therefore you will be afforded respect due to your status. But with that power you will be vulnerable to those who would like to take it from you,” he says.

“I’m not sure I want to be queen after all,” I remark. His bark of laughter is the first time I’ve seen him express any kind of joy since I met him and a tiny spark of hope comes alive inside me.

I smile at him and his laughter stops, then he shifts uncomfortably on his feet.

“You don’t have much of a choice, princess, so you’ll have to make the best of it. From now on, you represent my family and my kingdom, so you will behave accordingly and play the role you have been given. In exchange you will be safe from anyone that would harm you and have every need met,” he explains.

I understand now that I will be lucky to catch glimpses of the man beneath the king in our marriage. I also understand that this is simply a business transaction to him. He’s not a bad person, but he has an obligation to his people and can’t afford to be caught up in anything as trivial as love or affection. I’ve never had much of that in my life to begin with, so I won’t have any problem living without it.

I stand up from the chair and square my shoulders. I hold my hand out to him and he looks at it confused.

“It seems we have a deal then, King Drake,” I say firmly. He takes my hand and pulls me a little closer to him.

“Drake,” he corrects me.

“Drake,” I repeat.

“Shall we seal it with a kiss?” he asks in a low voice.

Love and affection have nothing to do with attraction or desire, I tell myself.

I lean my face up to his and close my eyes and just as I feel his breath on my lips, there is a knock at the door. He releases me, much to my disappointment, and I smooth my hair before he opens the door to the butler.

“I’m sorry to disturb you, your highness, but Olivia has just returned from abroad and requests an audience,” the man says.

“Show her to the greenhouse and I will be there momentarily,” Drake orders him and then turns to me with a distinct look of guilt on his face.

“We’ll continue this...discussion later, princess. I believe my mother wanted to go over plans for the party with you,” he says dismissively.

I nod in a stiffly and we go our separate ways, but there is a burning question left in my mind.

Who the hell is Olivia?