Page 25 of Red King
They’ve toed off their boots. My eyes are on Arctic as he removes his leather vest, peeling it over his head. My mouth falls open because…holy crap, he’s sculpted to perfection. That chest…those abs…they’re insane. He’s freaking insane.
I wipe my mouth because I think I might be drooling.
Thorn keeps droning on, but I don’t hear a word. Maggie keeps elbowing me. I think she’s talking as well, but I don’t hear her either.
I can only see. It’s the only sense that is still functioning. My eyeballs. And my heart is definitely still beating. That’s it. Everything else is gone. My lungs won’t work at all because I’m struggling to take in air.
Arctic turns around to face the other way. His back is gorgeous, too. I never thought I would say that about a back. He has muscles everywhere and just the right amount.
The shifters surrounding Arctic start turning around as well. One after the other. I only have eyes for him as he peels off his leather pants. Is he moving slowly on purpose? Or is it my mind playing tricks on me? I can barely breathe. I’m numb.
His ass is…it’s beautiful. Can an ass be beautiful? Yes! It can! His is. It’s meaty and…
Some of the women start screaming. It pulls me out of my head.
There are these weird cracking noises. They’re shifting. They’re all shifting from man to beast. From skin to scales.
Before us, the shifters transform into their dragon forms, their bodies contorting and twisting. Their limbs elongating. Their snouts, too. Scales push forward, as do wings and tails. It happens all at once and yet, once again, in slow motion.
I gasp.
There are more screams.
I’m mesmerized by him…by Arctic. I wish I wasn’t, but here we are. I am!
His scales are the purest white, like newly fallen snow. When he moves, his scales get that pearly look. Like you sometimes get on the inside of a shell. It’s iridescent. It’s magnificent. His eyes are the only part of him that reminds me of Arctic, only they’re slitted, like a reptile.
Beautiful.
Arctic goes up on his hind legs; his tail swishes from side to side. He lifts his snout to the sky and roars. Several of the others do the same. I note that no other dragon has his coloring. They’re shades of green, blue, brown, and even the odd black one. He’s the only white dragon among them. I think that it might be special.
I was mocked as a kid about being ginger. I was different. So is he. I somehow doubt that Arctic was ever mocked.
He roars a second time, bright orange flames flying high into the sky.
I gasp and flinch away, feeling the heat from all the way over here.
The women scream. Some in excitement. Actually, I think most of them scream in excitement but there are also screams of horror, of fear.
One of the women – it’s Lauren, the timid lady from before, the one who couldn’t stop crying – she’s running and running…and then…she’s falling. Her arms go out as she stumbles. She tries to right herself. She can’t! She lands hard in a heap. I hear the thud from all the way over here. I feel it.
She screams again, this time in pain.
Lauren pulls herself up onto her elbows.
Then I’m running, too, because there’s blood. Lots of it. She’s hurt.
Arctic
I watch in horror. The female is bleeding. One side of her face is covered in blood. More drips down. I catch its coppery scent.
Both Paisley and Thorn run to the downed female. Paisley gets there first, dropping to her knees.
The humans go back to huddling together, except for two, who make their way to the bleeding woman at a jog.
I start toward them, realizing that I am still in my dragon form and I shift. It doesn’t take long for me to be in my skin. I start toward them again and realize that I am naked.
Fuck!
