I lift my hands to either side of his jaw, and he simply holds my gaze like he doesn’t believe a single word I haven’t even spoken yet.
“Don’t do it, Cersia.” His tone is all gravelly threat, but he doesn’t have the shifter balls to back it up.
“Do what, Zilo?” My hands clap against his gruff beard, and his smile only widens as he closes his eyes and takes what he deserves.
Even as I slowly shove my fingers through his long black hair and braids.
“There’s something seriously wrong with him right now.” Roman’s whispering words distract me only slightly.
Because he’s right…Zilo isn’t angry.
I’m covering his handsome face in literal shit, and he’s…smiling.
“There’s definitely something wrong with him,” Avian agrees quietly.
My heart beats a little harder, a little more recklessly as I stare up at him with his lashes closed, his face smooth without those hard lines of frustration creasing his features. He’s beautiful.
“Happy?” he asks flatly.
“Immensely.” And I can’t help but smile. The pleased feeling of getting him back mixed with the warming sensation of seeing him so raw and beautiful right now, I can do nothing but smile.
Until he wraps two big arms around me, and dunks me entirely.
When I surface, muddy shit flings through the air as I awkwardly gasp for a clean breath. And still he smiles. The audacity of this furry fuck! How dare he!
I’m going to kill him. I will. I’ll murder him and bury him in a shit shallow grave right here. I’m going to?—
His smile disappears as he stares down at me, and a somber look in his eyes sinks right through my chest with heavy dread that feels like it’s more his than my own.
“What’s wrong?” I can’t help but ask.
His Adam’s apple bobs as he takes his time answering me.
“The Prince requested to see you this morning. First thing.” The words sound like a death sentence in the quietness of his hard tone.
A prickling uneasiness crawls over my cold, muddy flesh.
Because Prince Ravar only wants one thing in the mornings.
And today, it’s me.
FIFTEEN
A LOSING WINNER
The halls aresilent but filled with the pounding of my anxious heart. Everything I’ve worked for is right in the palms of my hands, and I’m now standing before my fate.
The last time I stood outside his room, screams of false pleasure rattled the door. It’s quiet now. I hate it. I quickly bathed in the magical bath waters of our bedroom. I’m now spotless. I’m dressed nicely.
But I don’t have a real plan ready. I don’t know how I can do it.
I won’t fuck him. I just won’t. But if that’s the only way to distract him enough to kill him…
My hair wafts against my back from how hard I shake my head at myself. Nope. Can’t do it. Killing him is one thing, sex, that’s just asking for too much. Even as a last request.
A deep inhale fills my lungs as I lift my hand to the cold door handle. My eyes close, and I count to three.
One.
