The Dragon Kings' Forbidden Witch
Chapter 25: My Brother Is Obsessed With You

Chapter 25: My Brother Is Obsessed With You

No.

She couldn’t think about it.

When the afternoon bell rang, signaling the end of the work shift, Morgana made her way back to the servants’ quarters.

Rowan was already there, washing her face at the basin.

"You look terrible," Rowan said, glancing at her. "What happened?"

"Nothing."

"Morgana..."

"I said, nothing." Morgana’s voice was sharper than she intended.

Rowan’s eyes widened, hurt flickering across her face.

Morgana immediately regretted it. "I’m sorry. I’m just... tired."

"You’re more than tired." Rowan crossed to her, lowering her voice. "Did something happen? Did someone...?"

"I’m fine, Rowan. I promise."

Rowan didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t push.

Morgana changed into a clean dress, the only other one she had...and braided her hair with trembling fingers.

Wear something clean. I have standards.

She wanted to scream.

When the sun began to set, painting the sky in shades of gold and crimson, Morgana stood.

"Where are you going?" Rowan asked.

"I’ve been summoned."

"Summoned? By who?"

Morgana couldn’t answer.

She just walked out.

The corridors were quieter at this hour.

Servants were finishing their duties, nobles were dressing for dinner, and the palace felt like it was holding its breath.

Morgana climbed the stairs to the north wing, Towards Kaelen’s chambers, and stopped in front of the heavy wooden door.

She stared at it, her heart hammering.

You don’t have to do this. You could run. You could....

No.

She couldn’t run.

There was nowhere to go.

She raised her hand and knocked.

"Enter."

His voice was cold. Bored.

Morgana pushed open the door and stepped inside.

The chamber was dimly lit, the only light coming from the fire crackling in the hearth and a few scattered candles.

Kaelen stood by the window, his back to her, a glass of wine in his hand. He was dressed simply...dark trousers, a white shirt unlaced at the throat, and his pale hair gleamed in the firelight.

"Close the door," he said without turning.

Morgana obeyed, her hands shaking.

He turned to face her, his pale eyes sweeping over her with cold appraisal.

"Good," he said. "You followed orders."

Morgana said nothing.

He crossed the room slowly, setting his wine glass on a side table, and stopped a few feet away from her.

"Do you know why you’re here?" he asked.

"No, Your Majesty."

"Liar." His smile was sharp. "You know exactly why."

He circled her, the way he had in the corridor, and Morgana forced herself to stand still.

"My brother is obsessed with you," Kaelen said quietly. "And I want to know why."

"I don’t know, Your Majesty."

"Then let’s find out." He stopped in front of her. "Take off your apron."

Morgana’s breath hitched. "Your Majesty..."

"That wasn’t a request."

Her hands trembled as she untied the apron and let it fall to the floor.

Kaelen’s gaze raked over her. "Better."

He stepped closer...so close she could feel the cold radiating from him, see the sharp angles of his face, the cruel curve of his mouth.

"You’re afraid of me," he said.

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Good. You should be."

He reached out, his fingers brushing her jaw, tilting her face up toward his.

"Let’s see," he murmured, "what makes you so special."

***

Morgana’s heart hammered against her ribs as Kaelen’s cold fingers traced the line of her jaw.

His touch was nothing like Draeven’s heat.

Where Draeven had burned, Kaelen froze...his presence sharp and cutting, his gaze clinical and cruel.

But no less dangerous.

"Look at me," he said softly.

Morgana forced herself to meet his eyes.

They were pale blue....cold as winter frost, and they studied her with the kind of detached curiosity one might give an insect pinned to a board.

"Interesting," he murmured. "You’re terrified. And yet you came anyway."

"I had no choice, Your Majesty."

His smile widened. "No. You didn’t."

He released her jaw and stepped back, his gaze sweeping over her slowly, deliberately.

"Turn around."

Morgana’s stomach twisted. "Your Majesty...."

"I won’t ask twice."

She swallowed hard and turned.

She could feel his eyes on her....raking over her shoulders, her back, the curve of her waist. The silence stretched, suffocating, and she fought the urge to run.

"Again," he said.

She turned back to face him.

He was watching her with that same cold, assessing gaze, his head tilted slightly.

"Take down your hair."

Morgana’s hands trembled as she reached up and pulled the pins from her braid. Her dark hair tumbled over her shoulders in waves, and she let her hands fall to her sides.

Kaelen stepped closer.

"Better," he said quietly. "Now I can see you properly."

He reached out and ran his fingers through her hair, his touch slow and deliberate. Morgana forced herself to stand still, to not flinch, even as her pulse spiked.

"You’re nothing extraordinary," he mused, his voice soft. "And yet my brother looked at you as if you were the only woman in that hall."

He released her hair and let his hand trail down....over her shoulder, along her collarbone.

Morgana’s breath hitched.

"Why is that, do you think?" he asked, his fingers ghosting over the edge of her neckline.

"I don’t know, Your Majesty."

"Liar."

His hand slipped lower, his fingers tracing the curve of her bodice.

Morgana’s heart raced. "Your Majesty, please...."

"Please what?" His voice was soft, dangerous. "Please stop? Or please continue?"

She couldn’t answer.

His fingers found the laces at the front of her dress.

"Let’s find out," he said quietly, "what it is about you that has him so... distracted."

He pulled.

The laces loosened.

Morgana gasped, her hands flying up to hold the fabric in place.

Kaelen’s smile was sharp. "Move your hands."

"Your Majesty....."

"Move them."

His voice was cold. Commanding.

Morgana’s hands trembled, but she lowered them slowly, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps.

Kaelen pulled the laces free, one by one, his movements slow and deliberate.

The bodice loosened.

And then....

He pulled it down.