Take her, fuck her. Own her.
No,I tried to argue.That isn't the way…
You are king. She is nothing. No one. She's yours. Thrust your cock into that sweet tightness.
I couldn't even blame the dragon for the thought because it was all mine and mine alone.
My fingers twitched with the need to explore every inch of her trembling form, to discover if her skin tasted as sweet as it smelled.
I could feel the phantom weight of my crown—a pressure reminding me of duties, of appearances, of the control I'd spent decades perfecting. But here, with only the whispering trees andthe rippling lake as witnesses, that control was quickly slipping through my fingers.
What kind of man had I become, contemplating murder one moment and violation the next?
The thought of her blood on my hands made bile rise in my throat. Not because she was innocent; she was a threat, perhaps the greatest I'd ever faced—but because such an act would transform me into something I'd spent years fighting against: a tyrant. A beast.
The dragon.
I stepped back, forcing air into my lungs.
The girl watched me warily, ready to bolt like a startled deer. Her white hair gleamed in the moonlight, making her seem almost ghostly, not of this world—something between mortal and fae.
“What is your name?” I demanded again, my voice barely a whisper. I was still panting with restraint.
Take her. Fuck her. Own her. Hoard her.
"My name?"
She is our treasure.
"Your fucking name, girl," I growled, reaching out and gripping her arm once more.
She gasped. "I am... no one."
-GUIN-
“No one,” Arthur repeated, his voice low and dangerous. “You are notno oneif you pulled Excalibur from the stone.”
“Iamno one,” I insisted. “This was a mistake—the sword, the Lady, all of it.” I caught myself. “Your Highness.”
His grip on me tightened, fingers biting. His scent wrapped around me—leather, pine, steel. Man.
I should've been terrified—and part of me was, the rational part that understood exactly how much danger I was in. But something else was also coursing through me, something darker and more potent than fear. Anger and hatred, twin flames now roaring to life at his proximity. Here he was—the man whose orders had torn my family apart, whose soldiers had left my parents' blood cooling in the dirt. This was the monster who wore a crown and called it justice.
He was close enough that I could see the flecks of gold in his blue eyes. And suddenly I wished I hadn't dropped Excalibur back into the lake. I wished I still held it so I could bury it in the king's belly and end his tyranny right here and right now. There would be no witnesses. Just the lake itself.
“Do not lie to me, girl,” he growled, yanking me closer until his breath brushed my cheek. “No one touches that sword without consequence.”
That was when I noticed it—the raw, predatory hunger in his gaze as he looked me up and down. His eyes moved over my body like a physical caress, lingering on the curve of my hips, the swell of my breasts, the vulnerable line of my throat. There was nothing kingly or restrained about that look—it was pure masculine want, dark and consuming.
In response, heat began to bloom through me. But not the fire of righteous anger that had sustained me through years of planning revenge. This was a different sort of heat entirely—treacherous and unwanted. It began to pulse where his strong fingers gripped my arms, spreading outward like ripples on still water, coiling low and insistent in my belly.
My body betrayed me, responding to his nearness despite everything I knew about him, despite the blood on his hands. The rational part of my mind recoiled, but my flesh seemed tohave its own treacherous mind, warming under his penetrating stare.
This is Arthur Pendragon,I yelled at myself. King of Camelot. Mytarget. The man I’d been sent to betray. The man who had murdered my parents. The man who was about to murder me.
Go for the sword and run him through with his own blade.
“Excaliburyieldedto you.” His voice was rough, almost hoarse. “Why?”
