Chapter 42

FORTY-TWO

Q uinn squinted at her notes spread across the library’s crystalline table, the alien suns casting rainbow prisms across her paper. Her field journal lay open beside complex maps of the palace grounds, each marked with red dots indicating “accidents” over the past weeks. The pattern screamed deliberate sabotage, but something about her suspicions toward Bhesna nagged at her scientific mind.

A warm presence materialized behind her, accompanied by the now-familiar scent of winter pine and smoke that marked Kai’s arrival. “You missed breakfast,” he rumbled, setting a steaming mug beside her elbow. “Again.”

“Some of us don’t have supernatural dragon metabolism.” But she reached for the drink—a rich, spiced tea that had become her addiction since arriving on Nova Aurora. “Though I notice you found time to track me down.”

“A king should know his kingdom’s vulnerabilities.” His hand brushed her shoulder as he leaned over to study her maps. “Including willful scientists who forget to eat.”

“I’m not willful. I’m focused.” She tilted her head back to meet his eyes, fighting a smile. “There’s a difference.”

“Ah, yes. Like there’s a difference between ‘investigating potential threats’ and ‘deliberately antagonizing my entire council’?”

“That meeting was not my fault. Lord Dravick started it with his ‘primitive human science’ comments.”

“You called his ancestral theories ‘geologically impossible and logically bankrupt.’“

“I was being nice! I had graphs ready to prove exactly how wrong he was.” She gestured at her notebooks. “With citations.”

Kai’s laugh rumbled through his chest, the sound sending pleasant vibrations through her where he stood close—too close for professional distance, not close enough for her growing need to lean into him.

“Only you would consider academic citations an act of mercy.” His fingers traced idle patterns on her shoulder, the touch both soothing and distracting. “Though I admit, watching you dismantle centuries of draconic assumption with pure logic is... compelling.”

Heat crawled up her neck at his tone. “Careful, Your Majesty. People might think you’re developing a thing for science.”

“Not science.” His voice dropped lower, intimate. “Just one particularly fascinating scientist.”

The words sent her pulse skittering. This thing between them had grown harder to deny since that night in the ice caves, since she’d admitted—at least to herself—that her feelings ran deeper than mere attraction. But old habits died hard.

“Fascinating, hh-mmm?” She spun her chair to face him properly, raising an eyebrow. “Is that your diplomatic way of calling me a troublemaker?”

“If I meant troublemaker, I’d say troublemaker.” His eyes glinted with humor as he braced his hands on her armrests, effectively caging her in. “Though you do seem to attract an impressive amount of chaos for someone so devoted to orderly research.”

“Says the man who literally breathes fire.” But she didn’t pull away from his proximity. If anything, she found herself leaning closer, drawn by the warmth radiating from him. “Besides, I had a perfectly peaceful career before you dragons came along.”

“Peaceful?” His skeptical look made her laugh. “The same career that had you scaling active volcanoes and diving into glacier crevasses?”

“That’s different. Those were controlled scientific expeditions.”

“With avalanches.”

“Minor avalanches. For research.”

“Of course.” His smile softened into something that made her heart flip. “The stars forbid anyone suggest the great Dr. Quinn seeks out adventure for its own sake.”

“I seek out knowledge,” she corrected primly, though her hands had somehow found their way to his chest, fingers tracing the intricate embroidery of his formal coat. “The adventure is just a bonus.”

“And what knowledge are you seeking now?” His gaze dropped to her lips for a fraction of a second. “Besides evidence against my advisor?”

The reminder of why she’d been holed up in the library sobered her slightly. “Speaking of Bhesna...” She glanced at her scattered notes. “I don’t think she’s behind the sabotage. At least, not directly.”

Kai straightened, though he didn’t step back from their intimate position. “Explain.”

“The pattern’s too obvious.” She gestured at her maps. “Every incident points straight to her—the timing, the access, the motive. It’s like someone wanted us to suspect her.” Her hands moved automatically as she spoke, sketching theories in the air. “But when I confronted her in the garden earlier, something felt off. She acted hostile, but it seemed... rehearsed? Like she was playing a part rather than actually trying to harm me.”

“You confronted her?” A growl entered his voice. “Alone?”

“Don’t start.” She poked his chest. “I’m a big girl who can handle a conversation with a snippy advisor. Besides, I had backup.”

His eyebrows rose. “Backup?”

“Lydia was nearby with her camera drone. Ready to record any suspicious dragon activity.” She grinned. “Or, as she put it, ‘capture the epic throwdown between science and scales.’“

That startled another laugh from him. “I see your friend remains...”

“Enthusiastically supportive?”

“‘Alarmingly creative is more like it.’“

“She means well.” Quinn gathered her notes into a somewhat orderly pile. “And she might have pointed out something I’ve been trying not to think about.”

“Oh?”

“That maybe my determination to solve this mystery isn’t entirely professional.” She forced herself to meet his eyes. “That maybe I’m worried about more than just geological stability.”

Understanding dawned in his expression. He caught one of her hands, bringing it to his lips in a gesture that should have seemed archaic but instead sent heat spiraling through her. “You’re concerned for the kingdom’s safety?”

“For its king’s safety,” she corrected softly. “Someone’s trying to hurt you through me, and I... I don’t like it.”

“Quinn.” Her name on his lips sounded like a caress. “I’ve survived centuries of political intrigue and magical warfare. I can handle?—”

“I know you can handle yourself.” She twisted her fingers through his, marveling at how natural it felt now. “That doesn’t mean you have to handle everything alone. Not anymore.”

The admission hung between them, heavy with implication. Kai’s eyes darkened to molten gold, his dragon surfacing in response to her words.

“Being your fated mate is frightening enough,” she continued, forcing the words out before she lost her nerve. “But caring about you? Actually wanting to be with you, magic aside? That’s terrifying.”

“And yet here you are.” His free hand came up to cup her cheek. “Still investigating, still fighting, still refusing to run even when it would be safer.”

“Well, you know us scientists.” Her attempt at lightness came out breathless. “Terrible self-preservation instincts. It’s practically a job requirement.”

“Is that what we’re calling this?” His thumb traced her lower lip. “Professional dedication?”

“Definitely not.” She leaned into his touch, pulse racing. “Pretty sure making out with research subjects violates several ethical guidelines.”

“I won’t tell the ethics board if you won’t.”

She meant to laugh, to maintain some semblance of their usual banter, but the sound caught in her throat as he closed the remaining distance between them. The kiss started gentle, a question more than a demand. But when she wound her arms around his neck, fingers sliding into his hair, it quickly blazed into something deeper.

A distant crash in the library stacks snapped them apart. Kai’s eyes flared fully gold as he spun toward the sound, pushing Quinn behind him in one fluid motion.

“Really?” She peeked around his shoulder, torn between exasperation and amusement. “The protective dragon thing again?”

“Habit.” But he didn’t relax his stance until a sheepish-looking page emerged from behind a toppled stack of books.

“My apologies, Your Majesty.” The young dragon shifter scrambled to gather the scattered texts. “I didn’t realize... that is, I wasn’t trying to... um...”

“It’s fine.” Kai’s voice held barely contained laughter. “Though perhaps more care with the ancient texts?”