Draeven's POV

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*Flashback* 4 months ago

He found her in the gardens.

He hadn't meant to, he'd been walking the place grounds, restless and irritable, when he'd suddenly heard humming, melodic and hauntingly beautiful.

He traced it to the herb garden located at the east wall.

"And there she was."

Kneeling among the plants, gathering stems into a basket. Her silver hair caught the afternoon sun, seeming to glow. She was humming something wordless and lovely, completely unaware of her surroundings.

And the plants...

When you looked closely it seemed they were leaning toward her, bending in her direction as if they were drawn to her very presence.

That was not normal. Plants didn't do that.

Draeven stayed hidden behind a marble pillar, watching. A minute passed, then ten, then twenty.

What the hell am I even doing.

She was just a girl doing her job. There was absolutely nothing remarkable about gathering herbs.

But the way she moved, graceful, even as she performed mundane tasks. The way her lips tagged into a smile when a butterfly landed on her hand, the way the afternoon sun made her hair shimmer.

Beautiful. His dragon whispered. MINE..i want her.

No. Absolutely not. He was the King,he didn't 'want' random servants. He had standards, control. He wasn't some adolescent boy ruled by impulses.

He forced himself to walk away with his hands clenched into fists. He couldn't stop thinking about her.

That night he took a courtier to bed. A voluptuous dryad who was good with her mouth and hands. She was skilled and more than satisfying.

He sent her away afterward feeling even emptier than he had before. All he could think about was violet eyes, silver hair and a gentle smile.

This is madness, he thought, staring at his ceiling. I'm going mad, a mad king.

*Three months ago*

He'd made a huge mistake.

He'd told himself he was just inspecting his palace. After all, a King should know his own domain.

But the fact that this 'inspection' took him through the kitchens, where he'd never ventured or where no king in living memory had ever bothered to go, was pure coincidence.

The moment he walked in chaos erupted.

Every single servant dropped what they were doing and bowed so low their foreheads almost touched the ground. Pots clattered, someone gasped and the head cook looked like she might faint.

And she was there.

Washing a large copper pot at the far end. She turned at the commotion, saw him and nearly dropped the pot. Her eyes impossibly wide and her face as pale as paper.

Good. She should be. Fear was the appropriate response.

So why did her fear make his chest ache? Why did he want to cross the room and tell her that he'd never hurt her.

"As you were." He said curtly and walked with long purposeful strides through the kitchen pretending to care about the food storage and the condition of their surroundings.

He felt her eyes on him the whole time, quick glances she thought he didn't notice.

Every time he looked her way she immediately looked down, fiddling with her hands.

The terror in her expression should have been satisfying but instead it made him feel like a monster.

He quickly returned to his chambers and poured himself some wine.

"Problem?" Kael asked, materializing from whatever shadow he'd been lurking in.

"I need a woman."

"Usual arrangement?"

"Someone new, I'm bored with the regulars."

"Any particular type?"

"Someone who doesn't look at me like I'm going to kill them."

"That significantly narrows the options, Your Majesty."

"Then just find me a good actress."

"As you wish."

Kael arranged it. A beautiful courtesan, experienced, willing and eager. Dark hair, emerald eyes and generous curves.

She left at dawn thoroughly satisfied and well compensated.

As Draeven laid alone on his massive bed he realized he hadn't enjoyed a single second of it.

All he could think about was silver hair and Violet eyes.

He was well and truly fucked.

*Two months ago*

The incessant dreams began.

Vivid, intense and so real that he'd wake up disoriented and reaching out for her before remembering she'd never been there.

In his dreams she wasn't afraid of him. Her silver blonde hair spread across his pillows as she moaned his name, not "Your Majesty," but "Draeven." Her eyes looked up at him with desire instead of terror, her body arching beneath his, her hands clutching his shoulders as he made her scream....

He'd wake up extremely hard, frustrated and absolutely furious at himself. He hadn't bedded any woman in weeks.

His second in command, Kael, kept complaining about him prowling the palace like a caged animal and setting things on fire at an alarming rate and about how he was terrifying the servants. The furniture budget had tripled overnight.

He was right, and Draeven completely hated when Kael was right.

This was all her fault.

What are you? And what the hell have you done to me?

*One month ago*

He finally made his decision at dawn.

He'd had enough. It was ridiculous, all of it.

He was the Dragon King, not some lovesick fool obsessing over a woman he barely knew.

He'd bring her into his service. Get her close. Figure out what this strange obsession was. Once he had her near him performing mundane tasks the mystery would fade. She'd be ordinary up close , probably even awkward, boring and irritating. The fantasy was always far better than reality.

"Kael."

His second in command appeared instantly. "My King?"

"My current chamber attendants are quite unsatisfactory.

"In what way?" Kael asked, his expression neutral.

"In every way, I want them replaced."

"All of them?"

"Yes."

"And you want them replaced with....?" Kael's tone was carefully neutral but Draeven could hear the amusement underneath.

"There's a girl, silver blonde hair, works in the kitchens. Find out her name and arrange for her to be reassigned to my personal service."

"Ah," Kael's lips twitched "The mysterious girl who's been occupying your thoughts for half a year."

"Don't make this weird, Kael"

"Well, I'm not the one who's been obsessing over a servant for six whole months, setting furniture on fire and destroying the training yard on a daily basis.

"Are you going to do this or not?"

"As you command." Kael bowed with an insufferable smile.

He paused at the door. "Draeven?"

The use of his actual name made him look up. Kael rarely did that.

"What?"

"Don't hurt her." his second's expression was serious now. "Whatever this is, whatever you're feeling.... don't hurt her."

"I'm not planning to hurt anyone."

"You never plan to. You just do" Kael's eyes held centuries of knowledge, of watching Draeven destroy things. Cities, enemies, relationships. "This one feels different. I can see it in you. So whatever you do, be careful with her.

He left before Draeven could respond.

Draeven returned to the balcony, gripping the railing hard enough that it began to crack beneath his hands.

*The day before*

Draeven stood in his chambers, scrutinizing the space with new eyes

She'd be here soon, cleaning, organizing and breathing the same air as he did.

He'd planned it carefully. He'd "accidentally" be in his bathing chamber when she arrived for her first day. It was manipulative, calculated, probably wrong.

But he didn't care. He'd been patient for six long months, he'd tried to forget her, tried to fuck her out of his system, tried to be rational. Nothing worked.

So now he'd take a different approach. He'd corner his little mouse and figure out what made her so god-damned special.

*Present day*

Draeven moved to his desk with purpose. Time to ensure his little mouse had nowhere else to hide.

He pulled out parchment and quill, his handwriting sharp and precise.

Mistress Calloway ,

The servant Elara is hereby permanently assigned to my personal service, effective immediately. She is to attend to my needs every morning at dawn and is not to be given other duties.

Furthermore, she is to be moved from the servants quarters to the chamber adjacent to my own by tomorrow evening.

Any failure to comply will result in your immediate dismissal and banishment from the Obsidian Palace.

---His Majesty, King Draeven Thorne.

He sealed it with the Royal Crest and called for a messenger.

A young draconian appeared immediately bowing low. "Your Majesty."

"Deliver this to Mistress Calloway immediately. I expect confirmation within the hour. "Yes, Your Majesty."

Far below in the depths of the palace, Elara was probably scrubbing pots.

She had no idea what was coming.

"Run all you want, little mouse, but you're mine."

Elara's eyes snapped wide open as she felt someone violently shaking her awake. Serena's face swam into focus above her., pale and frightened.

"Elara. Wake up. Now."

The urgency in her voice cut through Elara's fog of sleep forcing her to sit up quickly.

"What's wrong?" She whispered back, glancing around the dormitory. The other servants were still asleep, their breaths soft and steady in the darkness.

"Everything." Serena quickly grabbed her arm, hauling her out of bed and into the corridor.

She thrusted a piece of parchment at Elara with shaking hands.

"This arrived last night, from him."

Elara's stomach dropped as she recognized it. Black wax stamped with a dragon in flight, the Royal Seal. With hesitation, she opened it.

Each word written felt like a nail in the coffin.

Permanently assigned to my personal service.

Attend to me each morning at dawn.

Moved to the chamber adjacent to my own.

The parchment slipped from her fingers, fluttering to the ground.

"No," she whispered. "This can't be..."

"And it gets worse." Serena grimly added.

"Mistress Calloway is absolutely furious. She stormed right through the Kitchens last night like a possessed woman, ranting about how she was rudely woken by royal messengers and had to rearrange everything. If you're late for even a second today she'll skin you alive."

Elara's mind raced as panic clawed her chest. Moved to the chamber next to his? Dawn attendance? This wasn't just a punishment for running...it was a trap. He had made it absolutely impossible for her to escape now. To hide.

"How much time do I have left?"

Serena glanced towards the window where the barest hint of grey was beginning to lighten the sky. "Probably less than an hour, the sun rises early this time of the year, remember?"

Less than an hour left until she had to face the dragon who'd made it very clear he wanted to devour her whole.

"I can't do this, I can't go back there."

"Did he hurt you?" Serena's voice dropped, her face full of concern.

"No, he didn't, but he wants something from me, something I can't give him."

"Then you need to be careful. But you still have to go." Serena stared at her with sympathy. "A royal decree can't be ignored, unless you're planning to flee from the palace entirely. You know what happens to servants who defy direct orders, Elara.

Public humiliation. Execution. Being made an example of in the Town square. Or worse, given to the dragon as entertainment.

Elara's mind raced through impossible scenarios. Could she run, leave the palace to the countryside?

But she didn't have enough money, no family, no friends, nowhere to go. And even if she did manage to escape, he said it himself...he could find her anywhere.

She was completely and utterly trapped.

"Help me," she said, hating how her voice sounded so small. "Please, Serena. I can't do this alone."

"I can't, you know I can't. I'm a kitchen maid, Elara, just like you. If the king finds out I helped you escape, do you know what will become of me?

"Why don't you give it sometime, El." She used the nickname she usually called her. "Working under him can't be that bad, can it? If you ever want to escape I promise to help you out. But just give this a chance."

Elara looked conflicted. But she agreed because Serena was right. They were just kitchen maids and she didn't want to put her friend in a tough spot. "Okay, I will buy I'm not going to give in to him."

Serena's expression softened. "Come on, let's make you presentable."

*Thirty minutes later*

Elara stood outside those massive onyx doors once again, her heart hammering so loud she was certain the whole palace could hear her.

She was as presentable as Serena's frantic efforts could make her. Clean, sharply pressed uniform and silver hair braided into a crown, because Serena insisted it looked more regal on her.

The same guards from yesterday stood flanking the doors. They looked at her with something akin to pity.

"The king is expecting you." One quietly said as he opened the door without waiting for her to knock.

Elara forced her stubborn feet to move.

The chamber was dimly lit only by the dying embers in the fireplace and the dawn light filtering through the balcony doors.

Then she saw him.

He stood at the window with his back to her, completely still. He wore only leather pants that hung sinfully low on his narrow hips and his entire upper body bare.

He didn't turn around.

"You're late," he said softly.

Her throat went completely dry.

"I....the sun hasn't risen yet, Your Majesty. I was told dawn..."

"That was seven minutes ago." he turned, her breath caught.

His golden eyes were visible in the dark, pupils dilated into thin slits. His hair was loose, falling past his shoulders in dark waves. And his expression....

He looked like a predator who'd been waiting all night for his prey to wander into his reach.

"Lock the door." He commanded.

Her heart beat wildly in her chest at that sentence. "Your M..Majesty, I don't think..."

"Lock. The. Door," dragon compulsion threaded through his every word, making it impossible to resist.

Her hand moved of its own accord, sliding the heavy bolt into place.

She was alone with the King now, completely alone. No guards who might interrupt and no council meetings to save her this time.

Just her and the man who'd made it very clear what he wanted.

"Come here."

"B..but...." Elara's feet simply refused to move as she stood frozen with her back pressed to the door hoping she could somehow melt into it and vanish.

"Don't make me repeat myself, Elara."

"I...n..no.." she stuttered miserably.

"No?" Draeven's lips curved into a humorless smile.

"You defy me once again?"

Draeven moved toward her with that same unhurried grace, each step measured.

He stopped directly in front of her, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off his skin. She could smell.that intoxicating scent of smoke and musk that always clung to him.

"You ran from me yesterday," he said, his voice deceptively calm. "You defied my direct order to stay and now you're refusing to come when called," his head slightly tilted, golden eyes gazing at her like that of a predator.

"I'm s..sorry." her voice trembled.

"Do you know why you're here?" He asked quietly.

"To serve you, Your Majesty."

"Mmm. And do you know what happened after you ran yesterday?"

She shook her head.

"I spent three good hours in a council meeting, so fucking hard I could barely sit still, think about you in my arms." His fingers trailed along her jaw with gentleness.

"Thinking about the way you felt pressed against me, the way you gasped when you felt my cock and the way your nipples hardened the moment you touched me."

Her face was flooded with heat. "Your M..."

"And when I finally returned to my chambers," his thumb brushed across her bottom lip, "do you know what I did?"

"I touched myself," he leaned in so his lips were barely an inch from her ear, "thinking about you. About your hands on my skin, the little sounds you made when I had you in the water."

His brazen confession sent shock and something darker through her system. It created a dirty image in her head she immediately berated herself for even picturing.