It was the first time she'd gotten a really good look at him while not being terrified that she'd die any moment.
He looked hot. There was no other word for it. Even now, with the warm tea calming her nerves, he looked like he should be on the cover of GQ.
Alyx felt her fingers twitching as she dreamed about pulling those clothes off him and dressing him in something out of the new summer collection.
He'd look hot in anything, of course, but something inside her saw him in a suit, something simple and elegant.
Armani, she thought, imagining how she'd smooth her hands over his shoulders to check the fit.
She swallowed, pulling herself out of the tantalizing vision as her cheeks heated.
Cut it out! You're still in danger. And what will Zena think?
Braeden was still looking at Zena. There was something strange about him. Alyx couldn't put it into words, but it was as if she could feel the power rising off him.
“Steele brings me here,” he said quietly. “As I'm sure you've already guessed.”
Zena nodded slowly. “There's something about you. I felt it when you came in.”
Braeden tilted his head a little, his eyes gleaming.
Despite the horrible clothes he was dressed in, he suddenly didn't seem out of place at Zena's table at all. It was a little like watching a queen and a foreign prince converse.
Alyx blinked, taken aback. Where had that thought come from?
“I am who you think I am,” Braeden said. “I know you can feel it. You're strong—strong and old.”
Zena laughed. “Careful, boy. Not many say that to me and live.”
Braeden smiled briefly. “No disrespect intended. But it's true. You're the firebird. I've heard legends—and now that I see you, I can feel it's true. The fire burns inside you.”
“And it burns in you,” Zena murmured. “Stronger, brighter, hotter than it ever burned in Steele...”
“So,” Braeden said with another small smile. “Will you help the fire? Or will you stand on the side of the usurper? Whatever Steele is—it's not the fire that burns within
him.”
“Now wait a minute,” Alyx said, glaring at both people. “No more of this dragon talk. I have no idea what the hell's going on. Speak in words people like me can understand.”
Zena gave her a cool look, although she didn't seem offended.
Nothing could ruffle Zena's feathers.
It was a good thing she was on her side. Even though Alyx was human, she knew instinctively that Braeden was right. There was something about her that felt old and powerful.
And that same thing was burning from within Braeden.
“Your new friend here is the master of fire, if I'm not mistaken,” Zena said in a clipped voice, as if she was one of the boring board of director people Alyx sometimes encountered at the magazine's fancy functions.
“Uh huh,” Alyx said. “More dragon talk. What does that mean?”
“It means,” Braeden said, in that soft, deep voice that sent shivers of want down her spine, “that the element of fire itself has chosen me as its champion. I am the master of fire—quite literally. I command the element itself.”
“And how is that different from all the other fire breathers out there?” Alyx wasn't fooled so easily. She'd seen what those shifters could do with fire.
And she'd felt the fire burning through her own veins when she'd been forced to drink their awful magic potions...
“Oh, they can breathe fire. They can command flames. Some of them are even better at it than others. But I'm talking about the element itself. Fire. The eternal flame at the heart of the planet. The fire at the heart of the sun. The destructive force of a hundred volcanoes—the protective warmth of a fire in the hearth. I am all of those. I am fire. I am lava. I am sun. I am destruction and heat, warmth and survival.”