Nausea settled over her. A cold slap. Churning and bubbling behind her palm, where it threatened to boil over.
But then Sinadim grinned, lazy and sure. Hiding sinister motivation beneath his cultured smirk and lowered lashes.
Giaus’ jaw flexed against her cheek, the king donning an air of careful nonchalance, while inside he seethed at the nearness of the other male he couldn’t slaughter.
Renegade went very still as a single, startling truth made itself known.
They could not feel her.
Inside her heart, a tempest blazed. A festering tsunami of Anhur rage that tore into her with a force she’d been utterly unprepared to master. Coming not from one, which alone would have been more than she could safely handle, but from both of the males she’d claimed. Both fighting for dominance, their focus lay not on her, as she smothered beneath the weight of all that toxic, brutal attention… but on each other.
They could not feel her.
No whisper of the terror or the lust. Not a hint of the very real Hathorian fury that she had been chained in this way, to them. Enslaved by her own doing to the very males she’d meant to avoid at all costs. They couldn’t feel even a ripple of the excitement building in her heart.
Nothing.
For theirs was a one-sided bond. A tie that afforded the Anhur advantage in almost every category—and left them vulnerable where it mattered most.
Arrogance.
Not exclusive to the Anhur, and yet, it was a quality that would see them undone. A trait that drove them to compete to be the best, have the best, clawing and scratching and fighting for every last scrap of quality breeding female they might take for themselves before they could take no more.
She felt everything.
Knew the distinct flavor of Giaus’ possessive devotion. Felt the burn of Sinadim’s jealous lust and the tiny flicker of desperate want…
All of it. Hers.
Hers to toy with. To use.
And so instead of cowering, she let her spine go loose. Reveling in the lie, that they could not see what lurked beneath and couldn’t hear the whispering doubt that she was not enough. That she was unworthy of naming herself queen.
The nameless harem Omega had been nothing but a vessel.
ButRenegadewas a juggernaut. A proven strategist with more than one victory to her name, she could carry royal bloodlines with ease. By the Nine, she’d named her own king and given him a general as trusted adviser!
What was she, but a trickster queen who could fool even the mightiest Anhur? A budding master of deception and clever ruses who would see her males fight to distinguish themselves for her pleasure, her attention and every sordid whim satisfied while she worked in the shadows.
A coy, honeyed smile spread across her lips. Revealing the blunt, smooth edge of gleaming white teeth. “How long?” she murmured, and set her teeth to the king’s shoulder without breaking skin. Lining up against the spot where she’d left a silver crescent of scars, teasing the massive male locked inside her, she flicked a cruel glance at the one who’d been denied. “How long has it been?”
“Days,” Giaus returned, and she felt that ripple of pride in his words.
But instead of berating, she hummed and tossed a sheet of thick, glossy black hair over her shoulder. Packing the fury neatly away, her smile grew sly when she said, “Impressive stamina worthy of a king.”
Giaus, it seemed, had been waiting for her rejection. But at the sound of her praise?
He began to rumble.
Mangled purr rattling through his ribs, he filled her with adoration. Covetous, his instinct was to smother as he cherished. Working at her neck, he kneaded a tight band of muscle bunched around her shoulders. Massaging where she felt irritation shivering in tune with her mood…
A band that didn’t exist. Not for her. A Hathorian female who had no mane and could not emote like her infernal mates.
As if to spite her, Giaus shifted. His mane a full, billowing halo about his shoulders, he speared into her all the way to the top of her sodden channel. Seating that bloated girth deep as it could go, he said, “Anything to please my vicious mate,” and sluiced through the mess he’d made. Something soft gleamed in golden eyes. Something precious that made all sorts of uncomfortable promises she had no intention of claiming.
Cracking her neck with a deep sigh, she cast a teasing glance over her shoulder and said, “I am yourqueen.” Lips teasing and playful where they crinkled at the edges, instead of submission she offered a smile. “And I have had enough of underground, windowless vaults.”
At this, Giaus lunged. Pressing a brutal kiss to swollen lips, he breathed a drugging purr straight into her lungs. “Yes. My vicious, precious Renegade Queen. There is much to be seen. Much that has been done in reward for your suffering.”
