“That seems healthy.”
Branok rose to his feet in one smooth, easy motion. Any of the other guys would have offered me a hand up, even Arren.
But Branok moved swiftly to the door and unlocked it with his key from around his neck. “What’s your next move? Steal the key from around my neck, maybe slit my throat while you’re at it?”
“I don’t want you dead, Branok. I keep hoping that you’ll come to your senses.”
“Pretty sure I’m the only one of my friends who still has my senses.” He looked at me with curiosity instead of his usual open hostility. “What is it that makes you so magnetic to everyone?”
“I don’t know. Maybe other people find good looks and a clever wit endearing. Meanwhile, you just want a woman to worship you.”
I did wonder why the royals seemed so attached to me. If it weren’t for Branok I would think that there was something about all of us being dragons that drew us together—as friends at least. Sometimes I felt drawn to Branok but he certainly didn’t seem to feel the same way.
He walked into the workshop and snapped his fingers. Fires blazed in the lamps, illuminating the cozy but messy space. Shelves were filled with glass and crystal containers of various ingredients and books were stacked up on the long tables. By the fireplace, two chairs waited.
“All right,” he said. “Well, how about a game of Truth or Dare? With a little potion to make things more interesting?”
“You already said you don’t have any faith in the potion.” I rolled my eyes. “And Truth or Dare? Are you a child?”
“Scared?” he asked me.
“You are definitely a child.”
He pulled out the book of enchantment and dropped it onto the table. “I shouldn’t give this to you.”
“I know you don’t trust me, but if it makes you feel any better, Branok, I don’t particularly trust you either.”
I parked myself on one of the countertops and drew my legs up crisscross and watched him as he flicked expertly through the pages of the book of enchantment as if he knew its contents very well.
He mixed up the potion while I watched, trying to memorize his every move, my eyes flickering between the page and his quick, certain movements. He’d made this potion before.
I reached over him for an ingredient, the movement bringing our bodies close together. He smelled like cloves and cinnamon and wood smoke.
“Can I have some for later?” I asked him.
He rolled his eyes but said, “I guess you do have to deal with an awful lot of people thinking that you’re a liar. Common sense does sometimes prevail.”
“You shouldn’t claim to know anything about common sense.”
“You can get some potion bottles down from over there.” His eyes flickered towards the jade-green, elaborately carved cabinet in the corner.
Since his hands were busy, I’d let him order me around. I headed over to the cabinet.
When I opened the doors, they seemed to stick. I yanked a little harder, and the whole cabinet stilted toward me. I threw my body into it, trying to keep it from falling over as the enormous crushing weight bore down on me.
The next second, his body pressed against me from behind, leaning his big shoulder into the cabinet as he pushed it back into place. A few glass bottles fell out and splattered at our feet. Then the cabinet slammed back upright into the wall. The two of us stood there surrounded by broken glass shards.
“Gods, Honor,” he said. “I didn’t realize I still had to childproof this place.”
He ran his hands down my shoulders, down my arms, as he looked me over with what seemed like worry flaring in his eyes. “Are you all right?”
“Are you kidding me right now?” I demanded. “You’re going to insult me and worry about me in equal turn.”
He suddenly seemed to realize how close the two of us were standing. He cleared his throat and stepped back abruptly. “I can’t have you getting squashed in my workshop. Then Jaik would know I was the one who finally put an end to your nonsense.”
“Still planning to kill me? And here I thought our relationship had come so far.”
“I’ve never been plotting to kill you.” He offered me a bright smile. “Believe me, you would know. But not for very long. Maybe a second or two before you faded into oblivion.”
“So you haven’t been plotting my demise on and off since the night of the ball.” I shot back.
“The night of the ball. Why would you…?” He tilted his head to one side, and understanding dawned across his handsome face.
Damn it.
“One moment please,” he said. He held out one cup of potion to me and held the other himself. “Down the hatch, Honor.”
There was no escaping him now. “You do realize that truth or dare is a game that both people have to play, right? You don’t just get to demand answers from me.”
“I’ll tell you anything you want to know, as long as it’s your turn.”
The potion sizzled. “Well, that seems safe.”
“We have to wait for it to cool off. It’ll only take a second.”
“Too bad you don’t have any cooling off magic,” I said. “You guys think you can do everything. But what about when your hot chocolate is too hot? You’re powerless.”
He looked at me as if I wasn’t funny but that never deterred me. I’d gotten that look plenty in my life.
“All right, so Truth or Dare,” Branok said. “Although I really can’t imagine what dares we would possibly do. It’s not as if I’d ever kiss you.”
“Interesting you mentioned kissing,” I said. “I have no interest in kissing you, Branok.”
“Good,” he said.
“You’re not my type at all.”
“What is your type?” he demanded as he made the potion. “Gullible?”
“What’s yours?” I asked rather than answering.
He gave me a small smile as if he were amused by my deflection. “I like girls with a little bit of common sense.”
“Must be difficult for you given that you have to marry one of the noble girls. And I’ve never met a noble with much sense.”
“I’m a noble,” he pointed out.
“Yes, but you don’t have to prove my point. You’re supposed to take the opposite position. It makes things more interesting in a conversation.”
“I like girls that don’t have smart mouths. That’s the mark of a man with mature tastes.”
“And most likely a small penis.”
“What is wrong with you?
“Likely many things, but I’m not boring.”
“Yes, that’s my type,” he said in a tone as if it had just occurred to him. “I like girls who are boring!”
“This is information that surprises no one,” I told him.
“You’ve been unusually talkative with me. You’re trying to distract me from whatever you were really up to tonight, aren’t you?”
“Oh save it until the potion kicks in,” I said. “There’s no point in more of our bullshit banter. You think I’m evil? I think you’re a dick. And on and on.”
“You think I’m a dick?” He seemed offended.
“You think I’m evil?” I pointed out.
“It’s nothing personal. Women try to trap my friends all the time.”