Burning Desire

Cork, Ireland…

Kiril was determined to locate where the Dark were holding Rhi. It was one of the many things he was going to ascertain while spying. Every minute of every day brought him closer to danger. Returning time and again to the Dark’s pub, an Doras, only quickened the inevitable.

Not that a Dragon King ever shied from danger.

It was all worth it if he could rescue Rhi and learn who was out to reveal them to the world. The fact their faceless enemy aligned themselves with the Dark Fae as well as MI5 meant that they were prepared to do anything.

And so was Kiril. He would give himself up to the Dark before he allowed anything to happen to his brothers. It just might come to that too.

The Dark knew who he was, had known for days. It was a game they played with each other. He pretended not to know they watched the home he bought, and they were never far from wherever he was while they pretended that they had no idea he was a Dragon King.

He had to guard his every word, mind his every move. It was exhausting. And exhilarating. It had been ages since he’d had such an opponent. In the end, however, he had to remember it wasn’t a game. Their competition would decide who got to remain on the realm—the Dark or the Kings.

Not once since he came to Ireland had Kiril dared to take to the skies—even in a rainstorm. The urge to shift into a dragon and have the air rush over his scales and along his wings was irresistible, crushing.

He gripped the steering wheel and gradually took control of himself. He slowed the car as he drew closer to Cork. Cork, like Venice, was built on the water with the city center situated on an island in the River Lee, upstream from Cork Harbor. With the River Lee separating into two branches and surrounding the city center, there were numerous bridges giving Cork a distinctive look and feel.

The city was pretty, but it wasn’t home. Kiril longed for Scotland and Dreagan. He came to a stop at an intersection and waited for the light to turn green. The Shandon Bells of the eighteenth-century Church of St. Anne suddenly filled the air. The old-world style of Cork only made him miss Scotland all the more, but most especially Dreagan and the mountains that were home.

The sixty thousand acres of Dreagan were a haven for the Dragon Kings. With restricted air space over their land, they could shift and fly whenever they wanted. The fact Dreagan whisky was the finest in the world kept them in luxury. Every restaurant and pub sought to sell Dreagan, but they were selective in who they allowed to sell their whisky. The Irish whisky he sampled while in Ireland was passable, but what he wouldn’t do for a bottle of Dreagan.

Kiril found a parking space and quickly pulled the Mercedes in before he cut the engine. He didn’t plan on being in the city long, but the dark clouds hinted at rain. Kiril closed the roof with a simple press of a button and stepped out of the car.

He fastened the first button of his suit jacket and glanced around to see how many were watching. Three Dark were visible and doing a poor job of trying to blend in. Kiril imagined there were at least four more watching him as they did on previous nights.

“Here we go again,” he mumbled to himself and locked the car before he strode to the sidewalk.

Every time he came to Cork it was for show. He ate at expensive restaurants—sometimes alone, sometimes with different women. He visited different pubs, but always he returned to an Doras before heading home.

Occasionally alone, and at times with women.

Kiril had one hand in the pocket of his slacks when his gaze snagged on a pair of legs that seemed to go on for miles. Her black skirt skimmed high up on her thighs, and her platform heels only made those shapely limbs appear longer.

He paused and let his gaze wander up her legs to the curve of her hips. A silver shirt sparkled with sequins at the hem banded around her, accentuating her trim waist. The shirt was loose, flowing while the back crisscrossed in a large X showing a wealth of creamy skin. Her black hair was pulled to the side in a messy braid that fell over her left shoulder. She kept her back to him as she peered in the window of a shop.

Her eyes lifted and locked with his through the window. He was thoroughly mesmerized. Awestruck.

Entranced.

Her beauty left him speechless, dumbstruck. His gaze was riveted on her. Kiril took a step toward her when she turned to face him.

His lungs locked, the air trapped as he gazed upon loveliness unlike any he had ever encountered. Her oval face was utter perfection. Thin black brows arched over large silver eyes. Her cheekbones were impossibly high and tinted with a hint of blush. Her lips, full and wide, made his balls tighten and his cock ache.

She was Fae, but not even that made him turn away. Kiril had encountered many beautiful Fae, yet there was something entirely different about this one. He blinked, and that’s when he saw her glamour shift. If he hadn’t been so enamored, he would have spotted it sooner.

Disappointment filled him when he noticed the thick strip of silver hair against her cheek and her red eyes signaling she was Dark Fae.

It didn’t take much for him to deduce that the Dark wanted to use her against him. It was a good thing he could see through glamour, or he might really have found himself in a pickle.

He should walk away, but he couldn’t. Nor did he want to. He wanted to know the female, and by getting close to her she might let something slip that could help him in his quest.

His game just became infinitely more dangerous, and yet, there was a small thrill that made his stomach tighten at the idea of learning more about the Dark. She was thoroughly intoxicating to look at, and if the intelligence he spotted shining through her eyes was any indication, she was going to completely fascinate him.