Page 27 of The Forbidden Dragon King
I won’t die but I am forced to wear this scar that reminds me of my childish fantasy that a prince would choose an orphan to become his princess.
Aurelius scrutinizes me for a moment, before slipping off one of his golden scale bracelets.
He casually tosses it to me. “You can put it on if you want.”
I gape at him, weighing it in my hand. The bracelet is worth more than anything I’ve stolen. I could melt this down when I escape. It would fund my living for a year, fuck it, adecadeif I’m careful.
He’s just funded my new life.
I blush.
This is the first gift that anyone has given me, and my inner Omega can’t help loving it.
I also love this small kindness. When Aurelius saw how uncomfortable I was about the broken bond scar, he simply offered the solution with his own precious belonging. Casually, as if it wasn’t a big deal.
It is to me.
I smile, slipping on the bracelet. “This is worth more than I am.”
Aurelius’ piercing amber eyes appear to be able to look into my soul. “Says who? Anyone you want me to burn for making you think that?”
I choke on my tongue. “Not right now.”
He fiddles with a heavy golden ring on his finger in a gesture that looks habitual. The ring matches the bracelet. It’s shaped like a dragon in flight. It’s clearly antique.
Who gave these to him? He’s breaking up his heirlooms for me.
If I could get both from him, then I could sell them together rather than melting them down and make even more money.
Aurelius shrugs. “Fated mates are precious. Omegas should be treasured. And broken bonds are a disgrace. Any man lucky enough to be able to match should have their knot hacked off if they reject their bond.”
Better watch out, Bard.
Aurelius may be my enemy, but I can like him for that sentiment at least. But whybe able to bond? Can’t Aurelius? Is it because he’s too busy with this brutal war of his?
I narrow my eyes at him again. “You saved me…?”
I mean it to be a statement, but it comes out as more of a question.
“Most people would say thank you,” Aurelius replies, haughtily.
“Most people would want to know why,” I retort.
He arches a perfect golden eyebrow. “Isn’t a king allowed to do a good deed? Is my reputation so bad that I am no longer trusted to protect my subjects?”
Stubbornly, I don’t reply.
His eyes spark.
He leans closer, and my gaze drops to his plush lips, as his scent of leather and smoke winds around me.
He notices the direction of my gaze, and his lips curl up at the side. “You were clearly attempting to flee your kingdom. Injured, you’d reached the border without shifting, which implies to me that youcan’t. Isn’t it you wolves’ cruel ritual in the Mate Hunt to slaughter non-shifters? Don’t you let dragon royalty protect those Omegas?”
He looks at me, expectantly.
I stare back. It makes sense. Somehow, there’s something lurking in his eyes, which makes me not believe him.
He’s hiding something, a secret.
