“Let’s go,” he said, scooping me up.
As he carried me into the room, Vincent appeared at the balcony in his dragon form. Where Rasp was an astonishing emerald-green, Vincent was the brown of a desert lizard or a snake. He also shifted and joined us in the room, closing the doors behind us. He shrugged off a backpack and pulled a long length of rope out of it before dropping it.
“Hang on,” I said, holding up my bound hands and eyeing the rope with trepidation. “What the hell is that for?”
Vincent shrugged as Rasp set me down in a heavy wooden chair. “It’ll keep you secure. It’ll be better than the zip ties, and I can tie you up so you’ll still be restrained even if you shift.”
“Guys,” I said, doing my best to smile. “We don’t need to do this. Come on. It’s gone far enough. Why don’t you let me go? I’ll head home, and you guys can go, uh, do whatever it is you do, and we’ll forget this.”
Ignoring me, Vincent set to work with the rope.
“I think I’ll do a half hitch to secure the ends to the legs of the chair,” he explained in a monotone. “I won’t use any slipknots though. Too easy to undo. Might make a sheepshank at the back. Then I can tighten you up easier.”
The way he spoke of the knots made me think he had some sort of hobby. Sailing? Lasso-making? Did he have some sort of Shibari kink? Good lord, were they getting me ready for some rich guy gang-bang or something? Eww. Hopefully not.
If that was the case, though, I’d fight and claw my way out with every ounce of strength I had.
Vincent stood up and grinned at me. “There we go. All done.”
Rasp opened his mouth to say something, but the door of the bedroom opened before he could speak. He grinned, and Vincent looked a little sheepish. Steeling myself, I turned my head to see who had joined us.
The most gorgeous man I’d ever seen in my life strode through the bedroom door. His lean, muscular body moved smoothly and only stopped when he saw us. Long, strawberry-blond hair spilled across his face, obscuring one eye.
He leveled a finger at me, and looked at the other two. “What the fuck is this?”
AURELIUS
Slapping down the file, I leaned back and sighed. I couldn’t focus. I’d been pouring over the reports, memos, and emails since returning from my diplomatic mission to the Hikshil tribe. It was shocking how much had piled up in less than a week.
Most of the paperwork involved the magical products our companies sold. As of now, the biggest seller was a wrinkle cream the humans were eating up like mad. As far as they knew, it was a combination of minerals, vitamins, and proprietary collagen peptides. In reality, it was a watered-down magic-infused potion. It did the job well enough to make us millions, but not so well that the humans would get suspicious. That was all well and good, but the council was right. The Laurents and the wolves beholden to them were encroaching on our supply lines.
I was in no mood to go over the information, but I had a meeting with my father and needed to be on point. He was relying on me to be his right hand now that his time as king was growing short. Even the few hours I’d spent drinking and chatting with Rasp and Vince the night before now looked like an ill-advised waste of time. But I’d needed to blow off steam.
“Your Highness?”
Spinning my chair around, I found one of our butlers standing at the entrance to my office.
“Yes, Titus?” I said.
He bowed. “Your father is ready for you.”
“Damn,” I muttered under my breath. “All right. Tell him I’m on my way.”
“Very well.” Titus bowed again and retreated down the hall.
I stuffed my laptop into my leather briefcase and added a few folders, then slung the bag over my shoulder. The house was quiet as I walked down the halls. We only had a skeleton staff on duty. Neither Father nor I enjoyed having servants wait on us hand and foot, but the true reason was one that both stung and shamed me. The dragons were disappearing. Unlike the wolves, who always seemed to be expanding in numbers, our species had been in decline for centuries. It was why I was afraid of increasing tensions with the Laurents. War would be far more devastating to us than them. Although, the odds of staying out of some sort of conflict was lessening by the day.
Bastion Laurent, heir apparent to the Laurent family, had much more aggressive intentions than his father before him. From the intelligence we’d gathered, Bastion was pushing an agenda that leaned into the innate hatred wolves felt for dragons. I feared it was only a matter of time before he or someone doing his bidding sent things tottering over the edge. That kept me awake at night. Little as the rest of the royal families wanted to admit it, we needed to do all we could for peace.
Titus stood outside Father’s door, awaiting my arrival.
I sighed. “You can announce me.”
Titus opened the door and spoke. “Crown Prince Aurelius Decimus, Your Majesty.”
“Send him in,” Father called, his voice booming from within his study.
Titus stepped aside and let me pass. Father sat behind his huge, ornate desk, the light from his computer screen casting a glow across his face.
He grinned and crossed his arms over his flat, muscled stomach.
“My boy!”
I bowed my head slightly. “Father.”
He waved a hand at me in irritation. “Stop with the formality. We’re alone here, Aurelius. Call me dad.”
I took my seat opposite him and set down my briefcase.
“Okay. Hey,
Dad,” I said, grinning at him ruefully.
“Hey, son,” he said, his eyes twinkling. “What should we start with? The trade agreement with the dragon families in the southwest?”
I chuckled. “Do you really call it a trade agreement when they’re under your rule?”
He rolled his eyes. “You know as well as I do that I don’t control our clan with an iron fist. There aren’t many of us, but we are spread across the country. Each region is free to rule themselves in a sense. You know this.”
“I know, Dad. I didn’t mean you should force them to operate under our terms, I just prefer to address things with a sense of reality. We’re the royal family, and every member of our extended clan looks to us. This suggested shipping timeline works for both parties, it really isn’t an issue.”
When my father leaned forward, there was a weariness on his face that I’d never seen before. He was a good king, an honorable man, and a loving father. But he was nearing the age of retirement and abdication. The stress was beginning to show on his face. The lines and wrinkles on his face that had shown up well beyond the age they would for a human had only become more pronounced in the years since my mother’s death. Part of me thought some of my father’s will had shattered when he lost her.
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