Empire of Flame and Thorns (Flame and Thorns #1)

Chapter 23

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

M y frustration builds as the sun slips entirely beneath the horizon and darkness blankets the world while I still haven’t managed to find a way out of Draven’s room. No matter how much I search for miracles, there are only two ways out of the room.

The windows, which don’t even open. And even if they did, we’re four stories up. If I tried to jump out, I would die.

That only leaves the door. Which is fully and completely locked.

I scowl at the rows of black shirts in Draven’s closet after searching through it for what has to be the seventh time. The shirts just look back at me impassively, utterly disinterested in my infuriating problem. I slam the closet door shut.

Turning back towards the rest of the room, I scan it once more while I try to come up with some sort of plan.

Apart from the two times he came back to give me some food to eat, Draven has been elsewhere the entire day. At first, I was grateful for that because it gave me a chance to thoroughly search through his entire room. But once I realized that there is no key in here, his absence just became another point of frustration. He obviously has the only key to the door, which means that he needs to actually be here for me to have a shot at stealing it.

The lock clicks from across the room.

Whirling around, I sprint towards the door.

Draven is faster.

He has managed to open the door, slip inside, and then close and lock the door behind him before I can reach him.

I stumble to a halt on the smooth wooden floorboards, spinning my arms in an effort to keep my balance and stop myself from slamming right into his chest.

He arches a dark eyebrow at me. “Going somewhere, little rebel?”

Scowling, I cross my arms and shoot him an annoyed look. “Yes, I was, actually. Since you have failed to provide me with what I need.”

“Oh really? You have water. And I’ve brought you food not once but twice today. And tomorrow, you might actually get three meals, since I’m assuming that you will be conscious during breakfast this time.”

I give him a flat look while uncrossing my arms. Then I motion pointedly down at my body. “Clothes. I need clothes.”

His gaze slips down to my body.

I’m still only wearing that white silk nightgown that ends halfway down my thighs and the sheer lace robe over it. Neither piece of clothing offers much protection. The robe is practically see-through, and the nightgown is short, sleeveless with only thin straps over the shoulders, and has a plunging neckline.

Compared to the imposing black armor that he is wearing, I feel almost naked. It’s a very clear visual of how massive the power imbalance between us is right now.

“You have clothes,” he states when he slides his gaze back up to my face.

Annoyance flickers through me, and I motion down at my body again. “You call this clothes?”

“You’re the one who put them on in the first place. I didn’t make you wear them.”

“To sleep. Not to prance around in all day.”

Amusement tugs at his lips for a second. Closing the distance between us, he lifts his hand and slides it along my jaw. A small shiver of pleasure rolls down my spine at his featherlight touch.

“Oh trust me,” he says as a smirk spreads across his face. “You don’t need to worry about prancing around in your nightgown. Since you won’t be leaving this room.”

And then he gives my cheek a couple of brisk pats. Exactly the same as I did to him in that deserted room yesterday.

It stuns me enough that I just blink at him in surprise. Then my brain catches up, and I shove his hand away while shooting him another scowl. He lets out a low chuckle. I huff.

Then I let a sly smile curl my lips as I flick a knowing look up and down his body. “Admit it. The real reason why you won’t allow me to get my clothes is because you like the sight of my body in this tiny little nightgown.”

He draws his eyebrows down and lets out a dismissive snort. “Why would the sight of your body elicit any sort of reaction from me?”

“Because I’m hot.”

He rolls his eyes. “And humble, apparently.”

“You’re one to talk.”

“I’m going to take a bath.”

His sudden change of topic catches me off guard, and he uses that moment of stunned confusion to walk right past me and towards the bathroom door. Snapping out of my stupor, I turn and look at him as he disappears into the bathroom and closes the door behind him.

I heave a deep sigh.

Earlier in the day, I briefly entertained the idea that I could steal his sword while he’s sleeping tonight and then use it to threaten him into opening the door and releasing me. However, I was quickly forced to discard that idea. For the same reason that Draven walked into his bathroom still wearing his entire set of dragon scale armor.

Since dragon shifters switch between dragon and human form, they quickly had to figure out a solution to the clothes problem. The shift leaves them naked, which naturally became an annoying obstacle in most situations. So they designed something that would help them get around it.

I don’t know how it works, or if normal civilians wear the same thing, but all shifters who are in the army wear bracers that can store their clothes and equipment. So when they shift into dragons, the armor and sword they were carrying get magically preserved in those bracers. And then when they shift back to human form, their dragon scale armor, and the equipment that was attached to it when they shifted, returns to their bodies.

Where those bracers go while they are in dragon form is beyond me. But I’ve always assumed that they become part of their dragon scales, since the bracers look to be made from the same material.

Unfortunately for me, though, this means that Draven can store his sword inside his bracers while he’s sleeping. Which means that I can’t steal the bloody thing.

While Draven takes a bath, I occupy myself with searching through his room one last time. Just in case I missed anything.

I didn’t. There is nothing in his room that can help me escape. Unless I decide to hurl books at him or try to strangle him with one of the plain black shirts in his closet. Neither option seems to have a high probability of success, though.

The door to the bathroom is opened.

I spin around, getting ready to make one more attempt to trick him into letting me leave.

But the words get stuck in my throat, and my entire brain stops working, as Draven strides through the door and back into the bedroom in only his bracers and a pair of black underwear.

His wings are gone, leaving him in fully human form. And those bracers and that pair of underwear, which is practically nothing more than a pair of tight shorts that end halfway down his thighs, do very little to conceal his lethal body. I can count every ridge of his defined abs and follow every curve of his biceps. Drops of water cling to his messy black hair, and one of them slides down the side of his neck.

He reaches up and rakes a hand through his hair. The move makes the muscles in his arm and chest flex slightly. My gaze drops down to the bulge visible against the front of his underwear.

Heat pools at my core.

Mabona’s fucking tits, did he have to be both hot and well-equipped?

“Now who’s staring?”

A jolt shoots through me. I hadn’t even realized that my mouth was open, so I snap it shut and flick my gaze back up to Draven’s face again.

There is a wide smirk on his lips as he raises his eyebrows expectantly, waiting for me to answer.

My cheeks flush.

He lets out a low chuckle. “So maybe you should consider what dirty thoughts are present in your own head before you accuse me of wanting to stare at your body in that tiny little nightgown .” He mimics those final three words in my voice.

I glare at him.

With another dark laugh, he strolls over to the bed and throws back the cover, revealing the smooth dark sheets beneath.

The sight of it sends another jolt through me, and a question that I hadn’t even considered flashes through my mind.

My intention was to ask that question, but instead, what makes it out of my mouth is, “You’re going to bed.”

Draven pauses with his hand on the cover, which he has now moved aside, and casts a glance at me over his shoulder. “How very observant of you.”

I’m already flustered, and his flippant response just makes it worse. So instead of asking the question in a way that doesn’t sound so pathetic, I end up just blurting out, “Where am I going to sleep?”

Apart from the bed, there is nothing in this room that can remotely be used as a bed. No couch. Not even a soft rug. Just a desk and some closets and dressers.

A devilish glint appears in his eyes as he meets my gaze.

“On the floor, of course,” he says.

I gape at him. “You can’t be serious.”

“Where else would you sleep?”

“In the bed.”

A sly smile curls his lips, and he raises his eyebrows at me. “You want to share my bed?”

Heat sears my cheeks. I try to let out an annoyed huff, but unfortunately it comes out sounding more embarrassed than irritated.

“You know what I mean.” I flick my wrist in the direction of the bed. “There is more than enough room for both of us. You on one side and me on the other. No sharing ,” I shoot him a pointed look, “required.”

For a few seconds, he just watches me in silence. There is an expression on his handsome features that I can’t read. It might be amusement. Or annoyance. Or approval. Or something else entirely.

At last, he just turns back to the bed and climbs onto it without another word. The wood creaks slightly underneath the weight of his muscular body as he adjusts his position.

Standing there on the floor, I watch him while trying to figure out what this means.

Draven is lying on his stomach, with his arms up and his hands tucked underneath his pillow. He has positioned himself slightly more towards the middle of the bed rather than staying firmly on one side.

Squinting at the bed, I try to measure the space that remains on the mattress. It looks like I could fit quite comfortably there. My gaze darts over to Draven’s muscular back. Does this mean that he has agreed to let me sleep in the bed?

Since he hasn’t said anything, I decide to assume so. After giving my head a short shake to clear it, I stride over to the other side of the bed and reach for the edge of the cover.

Right before my fingers can brush against the soft bed, a small cloud of black smoke pulses through the air.

Draven’s massive wings explode into view.

I start in surprise, jerking back a little.

When I have gathered my wits again, I’m met with the most infuriating sight yet. Draven’s huge black wings are spread out to his sides, blocking the entire rest of the bed.

I curl my fingers into a fist and force out an angry breath.

“Asshole,” I growl.

“What was that?” he demands without even lifting his head.

“You heard me.”

“Yes, I did.” At last, he raises his head and locks eyes with me from over his broad shoulder and his massive wing. “Watch your mouth, little rebel. Or I might find another use for it.”

A pulse shoots through me. All the way down to my core. I suck in a breath as fire licks my veins.

Blinking, I shove the unexpected feeling aside and instead shoot another glare at Draven. And then, because with his damn wings taking up the whole bed, I can’t do anything else, I curl up on the floor next to the bed and try to fall asleep.

To my surprise, my body doesn’t ache with stiffness when I wake up. Rather the opposite. My body is surrounded by soft covers and a fluffy mattress and smooth sheets.

Startled, I sit bolt upright and glance around me.

Shock ripples through my soul.

I’m in Draven’s bed.

And so is he.

He is lying on his stomach on his side of the bed, while I’m occupying the other.

My gaze lands on him right as he jerks awake too. His eyes meet mine. And then alarm pulses across his face.

Sheets flutter through the air as we scramble out of bed at the same time. I pull my sheer robe tighter around me while Draven stalks around the bed. That look of alarm is gone from his face. Now, only a dark scowl remains as he advances on me.

“I thought I told you to sleep on the floor,” he says.

“I did sleep on the floor,” I retort.

“Clearly not.” He comes to a halt barely a breath away. So close that I can feel the heat that radiates from his bare chest. “Since you obviously crawled into bed with me anyway.”

Swallowing down a sudden burst of embarrassment, I raise my chin and put as much conviction into my voice as possible. “No, I didn’t.”

“Then how did you get into my bed?”

My mind desperately tries to sort through any possible memories from last night, but I come up blank. I’m sure that I slept through the night. And I don’t sleepwalk. So there is no way that I climbed into bed with him.

“I don’t know,” I huff. “And how could I have even gotten into it? Your wings were blocking the whole bed.” I jerk back in surprise as I realize something else. Flicking my gaze over Draven’s body, I blurt out, “Where are your wings?”

He starts slightly, and then flicks a quick glance over his shoulder, as if expecting his wings to be there. They’re not. There is a distinctly flustered expression on his face as he turns back to me and replies, “I must have shifted at some point during the night. Which is when you saw your chance and crawled into bed.”

“You randomly shift form in the middle of the night without even knowing it?”

That flustered look on his face deepens, and he lets out a huff. “I might have. I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? Do you really expect me to believe that?”

“You ask too many questions.”

Before I can retort again, he grabs my chin and tilts my head back so that he can lock hard eyes on me.

“I told you to stay on the floor,” he begins, his voice now dripping with threats. “And you climbed into my bed anyway. Try that again, and I swear to God, I will handcuff you to it instead.”

My stomach flips. And because that unnecessarily attractive bastard is standing there half-naked and with bed-mussed hair, looking hotter than sin, my mind shoots straight into forbidden places while a throbbing sensation pulses between my legs.

With my pulse suddenly thrumming, I find myself saying, “You like handcuffs in bed, huh?”

He yanks his hand away from my chin as another flash of alarm shoots across his features. It’s there and gone again within a fraction of a second, so I can’t tell if it was because he’s repulsed by the idea or if it was because I’m on to something.

Flexing his hand, he levels a very impressive scowl on me. “I meant handcuff you to the leg of the bed. So that you will be forced to stay on the floor.”

A very untimely grin dances over my lips. “Sure you did.”

He narrows his eyes at me. “Keep talking, and I’ll get those handcuffs right now.”

I open my mouth to bait him again, but then stop myself before I can say anything else. I know that I should stop talking now. In fact, I should probably have stopped talking a while ago. Because if he decides to actually follow through on his threat and handcuff me to the floor, it will make it more or less impossible for me to find the key and steal it from him.

But I can’t quite find it in myself to act all submissive and apologize. So instead, I simply give him a knowing smile.

He stares me down for another few seconds, as if trying to convince both me and himself that he won that round. Then he blows out a forceful breath and spins on his heel.

“Troublesome, infuriating,” he mutters under his breath as he stalks into the bathroom, “insubordinate little?—”

The rest of his words are cut off as he shuts the door behind him.

But as I stand there and watch the now closed door, one question still remains.

If I didn’t climb into the bed on my own, how in Mabona’s name did I end up there?