Page 9 of The Gold Dragon Prince
“I’ll show you that I’m just as intelligent as you are,” Imuttered to myself as I slipped away from him and the page who had come from the castle to deliver a message.
As much as I would have loved to know what the message was and whether I’d be able to help with any problem Gildur might have had, I had mischief to carry out. I started by finding my brothers, or at least Misha, since the others were all engaged on the dance floor, to let him know my plan and that I might not be returning to our father’s castle with them that night.
“Be careful,” Misha charged me, quickly hugging me before I peeled away and started for the edge of the pavilion. “There’s no telling what sort of danger you’ll find in a dragon’s castle.”
I was reasonably certain I knew exactly what sort of danger I’d find in the castle. It was a danger I relished and invited. Because Gildur was certain to come after me, and if I’d learned anything at all about dragons and their fated mates so far, it was that once a dragon decided you were his, you couldn’t ever get away from him.
At least, you couldn’t get away from him on a profound level. In the moment, it seemed like the easiest thing in the world for me to slip away from the pavilion over a convenient grass bridge that appeared just for me and to sneak through the shadows on the gold-lined path that led up the hill to the majestic castle.
It didn’t feel wrong or even naughty for me to creep up into the castle. It was one of many things about the magical world for which I had no explanation, but the castle felt as if it were mine as much as Gildur’s or any of the other dragons’. I remained as concealed as possible as I approached the large front door, then waited until it opened and a pair of servants exited, heading down to the pavilion.
As if it knew I belonged there, the castle doors remainedcracked open just enough for me to slip through. The entire structure, though it was ancient and made of stone and wood, seemed to have a life and personality of its own. I was convinced it was amused by my attempt to prove my mettle to Gildur.
That feeling increased as I walked quickly through the halls, gazing around at the fantastical and beautiful tapestries, wall sconces, and sculptures that decorated and illuminated the castle’s interior. The walls practically oozed magic. I’d never been within the castle or even thought about adventuring in it, but it was as if my feet knew the way to the library Gildur had mentioned.
Perhaps it wasn’t my feet. It might have been the floor itself. It seemed to glow gold as I walked, and when I reached each cross-hallway, the glow turned to one side or the other or kept going, as if it were leading me.
“You know what I’m after, don’t you?” I asked the walls with a smile.
One of the portraits winked at me as I passed. Such a clear answer made me laugh.
The library was every bit as magnificent as I could have dreamed it would be. Unlike the small, dark room in my father’s palace that we called the library, the dragon library was as large as a ballroom. It was two stories tall with a balcony that ran around the upper level. The walls were lined with floor to ceiling bookcases, and all of the books that filled them seemed to buzz and pulse with life, as if the information contained within them was real instead of some written fantasy.
The center of the library contained several tables, almost as if it served as a school. Most of the tables were empty, though they contained beautiful lamps and stands filled with pens and pencils of every kind. A few had bookslying out as if they were waiting to be put back on the shelf.
The table that immediately drew me was stacked with books and piles of loose paper, all of it containing handwriting. I strode straight to that table as though whatever research its former occupant had been doing had been left there for me to solve, my heart beating so hard it made my temperature rise.
My excitement doubled when I glanced over the papers and books, catching the general idea of what the research was about from the items on the top of the piles. One paper contained a report about doorways that had been opened between various worlds and discussions about whether those openings had been accidental or for some questionable purpose. I was as interested in the idea that there were many worlds, not just the magical world and the world my brothers and I had come from, as I was in the doors themselves.
I shifted to sit in the large chair at the side of the table where the researcher must have been sitting before and picked up another paper to scan that. The doorways were mostly harmless, bringing people into the magical world who needed to be there or who were fated to live the rest of their lives among magical folk. Most of the reports I ended up reading were from a long time ago, but one in particular caught my eye because it had happened recently.
“Someone slipped from our castle into this world through…a broom closet?” I murmured, eyes wide at the idea. The only people who entered broom closets in my father’s castle were servants, that much was certain. I didn’t recall hearing anything about any of the servants missing, though.
There was more to read and puzzle over, so I set thatpaper aside and picked up another. It was about a rumor that a noble from my father’s kingdom had discovered some sort of unknown magical item that had allowed him to open a door between worlds. Immediately, I worried that someone had found Rumi’s emerald marble, but that was ridiculous. We’d used that door only a few hours before to enter the magical world.
It stood to reason that there were all kinds of marbles or amulets or figurines that existed that could open doors between the worlds. I was filled with an insatiable urge to discover and catalog all of those items. The allure of learning more about the magical world felt like a powerful drive within me, like a compulsion that was…sexual?
I gasped suddenly, breathing in Gildur’s linen and cedar, as a rush of slick poured out of me.
“I was wondering when you’d notice me,” Gildur said from behind me, laughter in his voice.
I jumped out of the chair and turned to face him, breathing fast and hard. Only this time, it wasn’t because he’d startled me. I was startled, but for an entirely different reason.
“You,” I breathed, uncertain whether I wanted to smile or weep or moan with impending release. “You’re here.”
“As you see, I am,” Gildur said, holding his arms to the side, a wicked look in his eyes. “And you, my love, are here, sitting in my seat, looking at my work.”
A thrill of love and excitement shot through me at the idea that I’d been naturally drawn to whatever work Gildur had. No wonder I’d felt myself seduced by it so quickly. A deep sense of purpose, like the two of us should be working together on whatever the notes and books spread across the table were, swirled through me, and for a moment, I swore I could see our future.
“Magical items that can open doors between the worlds need to be cataloged and regulated,” I said breathlessly, stepping toward my alpha.
Gildur hummed low in his throat and moved toward me like he was stalking his prey. “Darling, you say the most delightful things.”
I laughed, but not so much because he was funny. Although I did find my alpha immensely entertaining. No, I laughed because I was starting to realize why the library felt so hot and why my body was suddenly hypersensitive.
“Are you some sort of law enforcement agent?” I asked, moving slowly toward him as if crashing in slow motion. “Is that why you’re researching doorways between worlds?”
Gildur tilted his head to the side. “In a manner of speaking. Peacekeeper would be a better word for it. But I—” He paused and sniffed the air as I came closer. Then a voracious grin spread across his face. “My, my, darling omega. It seems as though you have gone into?—”
