Enchanting the Dragon Lord: Kingdoms of Lore Book Three by Alisha Klapheke

Author:Alisha Klapheke [Klapheke, Alisha]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Alisha Klapheke
Published: 2021-08-30T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 22

Dorin

A knock sounded on the chamber door where Dorin lay exhausted from fighting down the dragon inside him.

“Go away.”

“Not a chance.”

Oh, gods, it was her. “Be gone.”

“If you don’t tell me where the key to this door is hidden out here, then I’ll show Filip the parchment hidden in your chest.”

He lifted his pounding head. Which parchment? Wait. He didn’t care. He turned away from the door, rolling to his side and wincing at the pain in his right wing. He’d hit the wall too hard on that side earlier.

“The parchment that shows all the lovely elven ladies.”

His drawings. “I was a child!”

“Right. Anyway, as I said, if you don’t tell me where the key hides…”

He ignored her musical voice. If her voice had been more nasal or grating, it would have been an easier job blocking her out.

“Fine. I’ll find it myself. It can’t be that difficult a task. Down here…” Her words grew quiet as sounds of her moving about outside the thick door shuffled through the air. “Ah, maybe this loose stone? Hmm. No. If I were a far-too-serious elven prince, where would I hide a key? Or did your jovial brother hide it? Or maybe the fae prince even, the one they say can charm the trousers off anyone in ten seconds flat?”

Dorin pressed his forehead against the cold floor and begged Goddess Nix to take this human away along with his curse. At the moment, he couldn’t decide which was worse.

A wicked laugh crawled under the door, and he jerked. Who was that?

“I found it!” she crowed before laughing that horrible laugh again.

“What is that sound? Gods, woman. You are murdering me.”

The key clicked in the lock, and the door swung wide to show Brielle, her red hair loose around her shoulders and going all the way to her calves. Her delicate lips curled into a smirk. Longing coiled in his belly, and a flush crawled up his chest. What would that swan neck feel like beneath his mouth? Would she smirk if she knew how he responded to her presence? He snorted, knowing the answer. Yes, yes, she would.

She raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. “Don’t like my victory laugh? Come now, it’s endearing.” The question sounded more like a royal command. Her quick temper flared in her eyes.

He stood quickly, head spinning. “Be gone, pest.”

She bared her teeth, and he was reminded of scar wolves. “Watch it, elf. I’m not known for my patience. You’re lucky you’re interesting.”

Turning away, he looked out the window at the last of the morning’s glow peeking through the scraps of woolen clouds. Why was she here? How could he get her to leave?

“I thought burning you would be enough to persuade you to keep your distance.”

“Psssh. You didn’t intend to burn me, and you never would.”

“You do not know that. I don’t even know that.” He glanced over a shoulder. She stalked the chamber like a lioness, watching him like prey. Straightening to his full height and expanding his wings, he strode toward her and showed the edge of one sharp tooth.

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