Page 3 of Empire of Flame and Thorns

To be fair, this must be a first for him. No fae would ever be stupid or suicidal enough to willingly go near a dragon shifter, let alone flirt with one.

“Though I still don’t understand how you can only have one eye color,” I say, keeping my voice slightly slurred and my words the epitome of drunken ramblings. “Such limited combinations.”

He scowls now, almost looking a little offended. Which was exactly my goal. Anything to keep him distracted and entirely focused on me while the resistance leaders escape out the back door.

“Better than having two colors like some kind of freak,” he bites out.

Dragon shifters, and humans too presumably, all have only one eye color. Like brown or gold or violet or something equally mundane. We fae seem to be the only ones who have normal eyes with two colors. Not one in each eye. Instead, both colors are mixed like swirls of paint in both eyes, offering lots of combinations. My own eyes, which are turquoise and lavender-colored, are not unique by any means. But I much prefer them to the odd one-colored eyes of the shifters and the humans.

“Hmm,” I murmur in response to the captain’s insult while taking a sip of the drink I swiped earlier and swaying a little, as if I’m severely drunk already.

The captain looks like he’s about to stalk past me and continue searching the room, so I reach up with my free hand to trace my fingers over his cheek.

His hand shoots up.

Fingers wrap around my wrist like steel bands, stopping my hand.

“Do not touch me with your filthy fucking hand, you worthless fae bitch,” the captain growls at me.

Rage burns through me at his words, but I keep the expression firmly off my face and instead just lower my hand again. “I just?—”

“Is there a problem?” a voice dripping with command cuts through the room.

Clothes rustle as the whole tavern whips towards the source of the voice.

My heart stutters as my gaze lands on the man who has just walked in through the side door.

He is wearing black dragon scale armor, and his black hair has been swept back from his face as if he has carelessly run his hand through it. Unflinching power radiates from his muscular body, and there is a calculating and highly ruthless glint in his golden eyes.

As opposed to the other dragon shifters in the room, his wings are also out. The vast majority of dragon shifters can only maintain two forms: fully human or fully dragon. Only the most powerful ones can do what is called ahalf-shift, which is to shift into a human form but with wings.

I stare at those imposing black wings that are clearly visible behind him even though he hasn’t even spread them out fully. Then my gaze drifts to his tall and powerful body. Then back to his lethally handsome face.

He is, by far, the hottest man I have ever seen.

And yet, all I want is to never have to lay eyes on him ever again.

Because this is Draven Ryat. The Shadow of Death. Leader of the Black Dragon Clan. Commander of the Dread Legionand second only to the Empress and Emperor of the Iceheart Dynasty themselves.

He is one of the most powerful and dangerous dragon shifters in the world. And the most ruthless. According to rumors, he sold out his own clan to the Icehearts in exchange for power. He has slaughtered thousands. Burned cities to the ground. Conquered and destroyed. He and his Black Dragon Clan are crucial in keeping all the other dragon clans firmly underneath the rule of the Icehearts.

If anyone can break the entire fae resistance before it has even had a chance to fully grow, it’s him.

The tavern is dead silent as Draven prowls towards me and the captain from the Red Dragon Clan. The captain might be from a different clan, but Draven is still his ultimate commander. So when he approaches, the captain takes a step back and lowers his chin in deference.

“Just some fae who—” the captain begins, but Draven cuts him off.

“I wasn’t talking to you.” His golden eyes slide to me, fixing me in place with a penetrating stare. And when he speaks again, threats lace his tone like sharp blades. “I said, is there a problem?”

My head spins with different plans and choices and decisions. What is he even doing here? The Red Dragon Clan is responsible for maintaining order in our city. So what is Draven Ryat doing here? And what am I supposed to say in response to his question? Yes, there is a problem? No, there is no problem? I don’t know which answer will keep him from searching through the whole tavern. I don’t even know if all resistance members have already made it out. Maybe they have. It has been long enough that they must have. But from this angle, I can’t tell.

All I know is that I need to do something to keep the Shadow of Death from breaking our resistance before we’ve even had a chance to fight back.

So I do the only thing I can think of.

I throw my drink in his face.

CHAPTER TWO

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