The Dragon Kings' Forbidden Witch

Morgana stood at the window of her chamber, her mind still processing the events of the evening.

The white-haired girl. The way she had looked at her with those ancient, knowing eyes. The way Kaelen had reacted to her presence, the way his hand clenching around her hand, his entire body going rigid with something that looked like fury mixed with confusion.

She was so lost in thought that she almost didn’t hear the knock at her door.

Rowan moved immediately, crossing the chamber to answer it. When the door opened, Lysander stood in the corridor, and even from where she stood at the window, Morgana could sense the formality of his posture.

”My lady,” Lysander said, bowing respectfully to Rowan, ”the King requests the presence of Lady Morgana in his chambers. He wishes to see her at once. He was very specific about the timing.”

There was something in his tone...not disrespectful, but knowing.

Rowan nodded slowly, and Lysander bowed and departed.

When Rowan closed the door and turned to look at Morgana, her best friend’s expression was a mixture of concern and barely-concealed curiosity.

”Morgana,” Rowan said, moving toward her, ”the king has requested you again. This is the second time this night. What is happening?”

Morgana turned from the window to face her friend.

”Wait for me to return,” Morgana said softly. ”I will explain everything when I come back. I promise.”

She reached for the cloak she had discarded earlier....Kaelen’s cloak, still carrying his scent. She pulled it on, wrapping the fabric around herself like armor.

Then she moved toward the door.

”Morgana,” Rowan called out as she reached the threshold, ”be careful. Whatever this is, please be careful.”

Morgana paused at the door and looked back at her best friend.

”I trust him,” she said simply.

Then she stepped out into the corridor.

***

The corridors of the royal wing were quieter now as the palace settled into true night.

Morgana’s feet moved quickly, guided by guards who knew where she was going, who bowed as she passed. She could feel their eyes following her, the ward being summoned to the youngest king’s private chambers for the second time in a single evening.

By morning, the gossip would be everywhere.

But Morgana found she did not care.

As she walked, her heart was racing. Not from fear, but from anticipation. From the memory of his hands on her face in the throne room. From the intensity of his gaze when he had told her to wait for him. From the knowledge that he had sent for her again, immediately after the crisis had been addressed, as if nothing else mattered but her.

Her hands trembled slightly as she moved through the corridors.

***

When Morgana reached Kaelen’s chamber, the guards standing outside the heavy wooden doors recognized her immediately.

They did not ask her to wait. They did not announce her. They simply opened the doors as she approached, allowing her entry without ceremony or delay.

She stepped through the threshold into his private space.

The chamber was lit by candlelight, casting dancing shadows across the stone walls. A fire burned steadily in the hearth. And standing at the window, silhouetted against the darkness beyond, was Kaelen.

He was dressed now, wearing simple black trousers and a dark shirt that was unbuttoned at the collar, revealing the hollow of his throat, the beginning of the dragon runes that marked his skin. His pale hair caught the firelight, and when he turned to face her, his pale eyes burned with an intensity that made her breath catch.

For a moment, neither of them moved.

She was still wearing his cloak. He was waiting for her at the window, the same position where she had found him what felt like hours ago. But the air between them was different now. Charged. Aware. Thick with something that neither of them needed words to understand.

Morgana closed the door behind her softly.

And then she walked toward him.

She did not speak. She simply moved to stand beside him at the window, looking out at the palace grounds, at the darkness beyond, at the world that seemed very far away from this moment.

Kaelen did not turn to look at her immediately. He simply stood there, and she could feel the heat radiating from his body.

Finally, he turned.

***

Kaelen looked at her with eyes that burned with hunger but controlled by will so strong it seemed to cost him physical effort.

His pale eyes tracked slowly across her face, taking in every detail. The way her hair fell down her back. The way her eyes met his with a mixture of nervousness and desire. The way she was breathing....quick, shallow breaths that suggested her heart was racing the same way his was.

”You came,” he said simply.

”You summoned me,” Morgana replied softly.

A smile crossed his face....slow, deliberate, filled with a dangerous kind of satisfaction.

”You’re not asking me about her,” Kaelen said, stepping closer to her. ”The girl from the throne room. Don’t you want to know what she is? Why she affects us the way she does?”

The question was innocent on the surface. But the way he asked it, the tone of his voice, the deliberate step forward, the way his pale eyes never left hers, suggested that the question was about something entirely different.

Morgana’s heart was racing now.

She understood in that moment that this conversation, this moment, was a threshold. She could ask about the girl, maintain the distance between them, keep things clinical and safe.

Or she could cross the line.

”Do you want me to ask?” she asked softly.

Kaelen reached out and traced one finger down her cheekbone.

The touch was gentle, but it sent electricity through her entire body.

”Morgana,” he said, his voice dropping lower, ”you have been so good all evening. So patient. So obedient.”

His finger continued its path, trailing down her jawline, stopping just short of her mouth.

”Don’t you think you deserve a reward?”