Page 48 of Dragon King’s Bullied Mate

Lyra scratched her head as she thought. Mikael became abruptly aware that he had never actually considered what she must have seen during those feverish days while caring for him.

Heat crept unpleasantly up the back of his neck.

Lyra looked equally aware of the implication now, though she answered carefully after a moment. “There were bruises everywhere,” she admitted quietly. “Along his ribs and back mostly. I thought they came from hitting the rocks during the fall.” Her brow furrowed slightly as she glanced toward him. “There was also a deep puncture wound near the back of his shoulder.”

Mikael straightened immediately. “What kind of puncture?”

“I assumed maybe a branch or icicle caused it, something thin and sharp.” Lyra hesitated. “It looked strange though.”

Malaya was already moving before Lyra finished speaking. “Take your shirt off.”

Mikael blinked once. “You could phrase that less aggressively.”

“You survived attempted murder. Stop being dramatic.”

Lyra looked mortified. Mikael almost smiled despite himself before he pulled his shirt over his head carefully. His shoulder was still stiff enough that the movement pulled uncomfortably against half-healed bruising.

Lyra’s eyes flickered over his torso before she quickly looked away again. Just enough so that his dragon noticed immediately.

Warm possessiveness surged sharply through him at the realization that she was looking at him differently now. He had to forcibly shove the instinct back down before it overwhelmed common sense entirely.

Malaya stepped closer and examined the fading bruise near the back of his shoulder while Lyra slowly approached as well.

“There,” Lyra said softly, pointing near the edge of the bruise.

Mikael twisted slightly to see better. At first glance it appeared insignificant beneath the discoloration left by the fall. But now that they were actively searching for it, the mark became unmistakable.

A small darkened ring sat near the center of the fading bruise.

Malaya went very still. “That,” she said quietly, “is not from a branch.”

Mikael felt something cold settle through his chest.

Lyra stared at the mark. “You think someone injected the poison?”

“The bruising from the fall probably hid it,” Malaya murmured. “But yes. That ring is consistent with toxin injection.”

Mikael tried to remember the details of his last moments on the top of the mountain. It still didn’t sit well with him that he had fallen despite years of surviving mountain terrain that would kill most men.

It hadn’t been exhaustion, carelessness, or altitude. It had been poison and the last face Mikael remembered before the fall was Dag’s.

His jaw tightened hard enough to ache.

Across the room, Lyra watched him carefully now, as though she sensed how dangerously close his temper sat beneath the surface.

“Hey,” Malaya said lightly, though her tone carried a warning beneath it. “There’s no one here to murder tonight. We’re guests.”

Mikael gave her a glare as he put his shirt back on. “No guarantees for the future.”

After dinner and a few board games, Malaya chose to camp out on the floor in Beckett’s room, much to his delight. Once they headed off to bed, Mikael and Lyra sat in the living room as the cottage atmosphere settled for the night.

The fire crackled softly in the stone hearth and spilled dancing light across the little living room. Mikael sat at one end of the worn sofa with one arm stretched along the back cushion. His broad shoulders relaxed in a way they rarely ever were within the castle walls, while Lyra sat beside him with her legs tucked beneath her and a blanket gathered loosely around her lap.

For a long while neither of them spoke very much, and strangely, Mikael found he didn’t mind the silence at all. It was completely void of awkwardness and was just…nice.

The scent of woodsmoke lingered in the air along with faint traces of fried chicken and winter herbs from the kitchen. Every now and then Lyra would smile softly at something unspoken before turning her gaze back toward the flames.

“You keep staring at me,” she murmured eventually, though there was no real accusation in her voice.