Feel the Burn (Dragon Kin #8)(104)

“Well, to bond yourself with a dragon in a world that looks down on that sort of thing . . . takes a special kind of strength.”

She faced him again, shaking her head. “You manipulate like a royal,” she accused.

“No, Kachka. I manipulate like a king.” Gaius slipped off the bed, eased his way around her. “A war king. Imagine that. Imagine what we can do together during this war. The Rebel King and the Scourge of the Gods.”

Behind her now, Gaius leaned in, nuzzled her ear, slid his hands around her waist.

“Duke Salebiri and his fanatics will loathe and fear us in equal measure.”

“I will take no orders from you. I will let no male rule me. Dragon or otherwise.”

“I don’t want to rule you. We work together. A team.”

“Eh,” she grunted, clearly not happy with that description.

“At least try it.”

“Fine. As long as we understand each other.”

“We understand each other perfectly.”

Gaius kissed her neck, stroked her hair. He’d begun easing her toward the bed when the door opened and Keita swept in, several multicolored eye patches in her hands.

“Look what I have for you, King Gaius!”

Kachka spun out of Gaius’s arms and slammed her hands against the She-dragon’s chest, shoving her back into the hallway.

“Away with you, female!”

“Rude cow!”

Kachka slammed the door in Keita’s face and threw the bolt down.

She then shoved Gaius toward the bed while snarling, “I should have killed that She-dragon the first time she suggested my sister wear a dress.”

“See, Kachka Shestakova?” Gaius said, falling back on the bed and happily watching her yank down his leather leggings. “We are perfect together.”

Epilogue

The arguing had been going on for almost three hours now. A few fights had broken out.

Lætitia had seen this coming. Had warned Aggie to be prepared. She’d been right. Senator Tyrus Gabinius of the House of Gabinius—an important human family—had ranted and raved about sending out their legions. The fight had started on Southland territory—why was that a problem for them?

And, as in all politics, Tyrus had those loyal to him. So the Senate was now divided. Many were for sending out legions before Salebiri became too big to fight. The others disagreed strongly.

Aggie, however, was about at the end of her tether. Her brother might enjoy all this back-and-forth, but she didn’t. Not when the stakes were this high.

She glanced to her left. The Mì-runach who protected her stood close to her chair. It wasn’t called a throne, but that’s what it was. And, like any monarch would be, she was tempted to unleash them on all these idiots.

A bad decision, she knew, but still . . . the temptation was definitely there.

Aggie gave the dispute another thirty minutes before she was utterly and completely done.

“My lords,” she said, but the dragons and human ignored her. “Senators, please.”

Still they argued on, until Aggie stood. She took in a breath and then unleashed her flame against the thick marble floor. It melted the stone in the middle, a zigzagging line going straight down the aisle separating the arena seating.

The Senators immediately fell silent, and Aggie carefully folded her hands in front of her.

“Senators . . . normally, I would enjoy all of this brilliant and exciting discussion. Debating the pros and cons of the issues of the day. But that is a luxury we no longer have. Not anymore.”

“So,” Tyrus Gabinius stated loudly, “you’re going to force us into a decision. Is that it? Well, the House of Gabinius will not agree to a declaration of war.” He stepped down from the seats into the middle of the aisle, arms thrown wide. Like the finest orator in the land.

Aggie walked down the small steps from her chair to the Senate floor. With her hands still clasped in front of her, she made her slow, methodic way to Tyrus. When she was finally in front of him, she said, “The majority of the Senate has made its decision. So, Tyrus Gabinius, deny us this, hold your legions back from what the Empire needs . . . and my brother and I will take everything from you and your family. We will leave not enough for even the crows to dine upon.”

She gave a small smile. “Do you understand me, Senator?”

He didn’t respond, but she didn’t need him to. She nodded at the others. “Senators. Always a pleasure.”

With her piece said, Aggie made her way out of the Senate, the Mì-runach right behind her as she walked back to the palace. She was nearly in her throne room when Lætitia suddenly stepped in front of her, blocking her path.

“You have a problem,” Lætitia announced.

“And good afternoon to you, Aunt.”

“I don’t have time for niceties. Not after what your brother’s done.”

Assuming her aunt had somehow heard about Gaius’s clash with Vateria, she replied, “I will not discuss my brother’s decisions with you. That’s between us.”

“And that barbarian!”

Confused, Aggie asked, “What barbarian?”

Gripping her arm, Lætitia dragged Aggie down the hall and into the throne room.

“That barbarian,” she announced, pointing a damning finger at the woman sitting on Aggie and Gaius’s throne. She didn’t sit there like a queen, but as if she’d just slumped down in the seat because it was available.