The Dragon Kings' Forbidden Witch

He bowed.

”My King,” he said formally, ”Lady Morgana has a high fever. Dangerously high. Her magical core is responding to the physical illness, and the two are amplifying each other. If it’s not brought under control soon, she could suffer permanent magical damage.”

Thorne’s voice was ice and fury mixed together.

”Then treat her,” he commanded, his dark eyes blazing. ”Whatever you need to do, do it now.”

The Physician walked back to his leather bag and withdrew a vial filled with luminous liquid, the potion glowed slightly.

He returned to the bed and opened the vial.

”My King, we need to make her drink this,” he said, showing Thorne the potion. ”It will begin to counteract the fever and help stabilize her magical core.”

Thorne looked at the glowing liquid for only a moment before gesturing for the Physician to hand it to him.

”I’ll do it,” Thorne said, his voice leaving no room for argument.

The Physician handed over the vial without hesitation and stepped back.

Thorne brought the vial to Morgana’s lips, tilting it slightly so that just a single drop fell into her mouth.

Morgana’s face immediately twisted in response.

She wiggled her head slightly, attempting to turn away from the bitter taste, and a small murmur escaped her.

”Bitter...” she said, her voice barely audible. ”It is bitter...”

Thorne’s voice softened slightly, though it remained firm.

”I know,” he said, his hand gentle on her jaw. ”But you need to take it to feel better. Trust me.”

He brought the vial back to her lips and tilted it again, attempting to pour more of the potion into her mouth.

But Morgana, even fevered, even semiconscious, refused.

She turned her head away with surprising force, her body rejecting the bitter medicine.

The Physician cleared his throat.

”She needs to take it, Your Majesty,” he said carefully. ”Without it, the fever will continue to intensify.”

Thorne turned his dark eyes on the Physician, and the look in them was cold enough to make the old man take a step back immediately.

”You can leave now,” Thorne said, his voice dropping to something dangerous and low. ”I’ll handle this.”

The Physician bowed, understanding that he was being dismissed, but before he left, he added the information that Thorne would need.

”After she drinks the potion, Your Majesty, it is advisable that she soaks in cold water to help break the fever. The contrast between the internal heat and the external cold will shock her body into releasing the fever. It’s the most effective way to bring her temperature down quickly.”

He bowed again and departed.

***

Thorne sat with the vial in his hand, looking down at Morgana’s fevered face, understanding the situation clearly.

She wouldn’t take the potion willingly. And there was no one here to force it into her. He could try again, could attempt to make her swallow it, but her body was already rejecting it with surprising force for someone so fevered.

He adjusted her position on the bed, making sure she was comfortable, and then he stood. He looked down at the vial in his hand, at the glowing liquid inside.

Then his dark eyes moved to Morgana’s face.

A slight smirk curved his lips.

”You leave me no other option, little ward,” he murmured.

Before he could second-guess himself, Thorne brought the vial to his own lips and poured the entire contents into his mouth.

The taste was absolutely vile....bitter and acrid and tasting of things that should not be consumed by anyone with taste buds.

Then he bent down, his dark eyes meeting her unfocused gaze for just a moment.

And he kissed her.

The moment his lips touched hers, Morgana’s eyes opened.

They fluttered open slowly, consciousness being pulled through the layers of fever and dream by the sensation of his mouth on hers. Her dark eyes were unfocused and confused.

Thorne didn’t give her time to fully comprehend what was happening.

Instead, he deepened the kiss, his lips moving against hers.

He angled his head, and his mouth parted slightly, allowing the potion that was still in his mouth to transfer into her mouth.

She made a small sound of surprise, but he didn’t pull back.

His hand came up and cupped her jaw, holding her in place, making sure she couldn’t turn away, making sure that every drop of the potion made it into her system. His other hand braced against the mattress beside her, supporting his weight, keeping him from crushing her beneath him.

He kissed her deeply, intimately, and began to pour the potion into her mouth.

The taste was vile...she could taste the bitterness even through the flavor of him, but she was swallowing it, her body responding to the command of his kiss, her throat working to accept what he was giving her.

Thorne made sure that every bit of the potion passed from his mouth into hers, and only when he was absolutely certain that she had swallowed every drop did he finally pull back.

But not far.

His forehead remained pressed against hers, his breathing heavy, his dark eyes burning with something far more dangerous than fever. Morgana’s eyes were more open now, awareness beginning to return, consciousness pulling through the layers of fevered confusion.

Her hand came up, and her fingers gripped the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer rather than pushing him away.

And Thorne, who had been holding himself back, who had been maintaining control for hours while he waited for this moment, who had forced himself to be gentle and caring while his every instinct screamed at him to claim her completely....Thorne broke.

He kissed her again, and this time there was no pretense of medicine, no excuse of care.

This was pure hunger.

This was a king who had waited far too long finally claiming what was his. His lips moved against hers, his tongue tracing the line of her mouth, demanding entrance, demanding response. She gave it to him, her fever-hazed mind responding to the intensity of his kiss with an answering passion that made something primal roar to life inside him.