Tytus stood tall as they approached, the might of his dragon showing under the black silk shirt he had chosen to wear for this hunting ground. Their House was in the Sawtooth Forest of Idaho, but they favored raids on the city. Lucian’s city. The entirety of the realms fell under the protection of the House of Smoke—there was no single city that warranted more protection than another—but infringement on the one closest to Lucian’s lair was insulting. A simple insult from a dragon whose mind wasn’t troubled by complex thoughts.
“I thought we had an agreement,” Lucian said just loudly enough to carry over the thumping of the music. “An agreement that involved not seeing your ugly face inside Seattle city limits.” He didn’t need to raise his voice to make his intent clear—he would eagerly back those words up with talons and more. His mind was already calculating how to move the fight away from the sea of delicate human bodies.
Tytus and his lieutenants leaned forward, the unspoken threat bringing them in. “Our agreement lasted as long as the troubles were brewing between humans and shifters. I don’t have to be fae to know the limits of an agreement. The troubles are over.” He gestured to the bustle of humanity and shifters releasing their sexual urges on one another. “Your new club is a shining example of that.” Tytus’s dark eyes flashed a deeper black, a glimpse of his dragon hiding behind his irises. “And I’ve been without bedmate for far too long.”
Bedmates. Tytus was dragon; he could easily lure humans to his bed. But he was known for having a taste for force—the hunt was his fetish, and one that made Lucian desire the feel of Tytus’s blood on his talons.
“You may visit the bar. Have a drink. Take your pleasure in any corner you wish.” He leaned closer to Tytus, stretching his neck so the black dragon could see the runes there and the fae power they carried. Lucian felt them writhing, craving a release.
Tytus didn’t pull back… but he blinked.
Lucian dropped his voice low. “But if you take a female by force, my House will hunt you down like the wyvern you are.” Wyvern—the wild beasts that were the eventual fate of any dragon who failed to find a mate and successfully spawn. They were serpents with wings and no mind… no human mind, at least. Nothing to pass for reason or humanity.
Not that the House of Drakkon had much humanity to begin with.
Tytus sneered. “I don’t have to take them by force. They come to me of their own free will.” The man’s definition of free will was assuredly different from Lucian’s.
Cinaed rumbled a heated growl. “Yes, just like kittens falling into a sewer.”
Lucian let out a low breath. “Give me a reason, Tytus. I beg of you.” He was a prince of the House of Smoke and cursed with fae blood. It was no match at all. But then Lucian deliberately turned his back on the thug in dragon skin and strode toward the front door, leaving his threat to settle the matter. He’d had enough of the throbbing music, the pervasive pheromones, and the absolute knowledge that he would not be partaking of female flesh tonight—or any night—while even scum like Tytus would find some pleasure here. If Lucian stayed, he would only snuff out the incipient peace the club represented. And he couldn’t allow his frustrations to needlessly stoke a war between the Houses, not now.
Cinaed caught up to him. “My liege?” He was clearly wondering Lucian’s intent, but Cinaed was also forgetting his human manners. He’d been at the keep for too long—just like Lucian.
He smirked. “I’m no one’s lord here, Cin. I’m merely Lucian Smoke, elusive billionaire.”
His friend gave him a wrinkled look, like he wasn’t quite sure if Lucian were right in the head. “Playing at human now, are we?”
“Angel investor,” he deadpanned as he reached the door.
Cinaed momentarily worked to keep a straight face, then lost the battle to a snort. But he was still close on Lucian’s heels.
Lucian held up a finger to stop his lieutenant from following him. “I’m going out on patrol.”
Cinaed’s humor evaporated like a fae disappearing into mist. “Do you wish me to accompany you?”
“No. Stay and watch over Tytus. Alert my brother, once he’s finished, to the House of Drakkon’s presence.” He scanned the bar once again, but only the three black dragons were in attendance. “I have a feeling Tytus is showing his face as a ruse; the rest of his House may be scouting elsewhere in the city for trouble. I’m going to see what I can find. Call me if the black dragons need me to back up my threat.”