How do I lead everyone when I can barely breathe?
“Stop.” Soft hands slide around my middle, fingers ghosting over my ribs. I grab one, holding it to my heart as an anchor. “Don’t let it win.”
The thoughts, the worries, my mind. It’s never been kind to me—an anxious one, I’m used to being on alert at all times. When I’m not, it’s hard to steady it.
My mate knows me too well, she sees how I’m stumbling to compose myself. She sees how I’m ready to spiral and I can’t. Not yet.
“You’ve become perceptive.”
“I’ve always been perceptive when it comes to you.” She ducks under my arms, facing me. “Tell me what’s going in there.”
Too many things.I want to shout them out, release them into the void like the corpses I kill. But it won’t work. They stick with me like mold to fruit.
“I don’t belong here,” I confess quietly. “In this room. In this palace. I was never expected to make it this far.”
But it’s my birthright. Something I’ve been fighting for, planning for, since the beast was chained. And now, I don’t know if I can actually do it.
“You do,” she reassures. “In this room. In this castle. With these people.”
“I was always the beast. An attack dog on a leash.”
She cups my cheeks. “Your father put you in that role. That was never your true path.”
I lean into her touch, soaking up her warmth. “Then what is my path, love?”
I expect a catty remark. I’ve no doubt there are a few on her tongue, waiting to let loose after the trouble I gave her. I’m sure she’ll point out how she was in a dungeon twice since we’ve married. The irony isn’t lost on me.
But she doesn’t. She leans into me, soft lips brushing mine in a tender act that my heart cracks in my chest.
“Your path was to love me. And mine was to love you.”
Such a normal phrase, and yet, it heals the anxiety in my gut and stills the thoughts that cloud my mind. My path is love—to love her, to find our future together.
Love.
Sitting,legs wide and naked, I watch my mate exit the washroom, her body faintly pink and freshly clean. And in nothing else.
I’ll say this for the royal rooms. They certainly have the best fixtures. The washroom is three times my old one, with a tub as largeas a pond. Neither of us wanted to leave, the herbal concoctions Max threw into the water, leaching away our pains.
My lungs refuse to work. Max’s eyes sparkle, her cheeks are deliciously flush and she still drips water, smelling of the spicy violets she loves. Grabbing her close, I pull her into my lap.
I inhale at her neck. She doesn’t smell like roses. She smells likeshe’s mine.
“Tell me what she did.”
Shaking my head, I swallow thickly. “Whatever she did, is bits and pieces that want to torment me. And I won’t let her have any more of me than what she took.”
She runs her hands through my hair, and lean into her touch. Here I can let down my defenses, enjoy my mate and just be. No longer the fearsome Dark Fae heir, not the Dark King, not the beast—just hers.
“Then let me help you chase away the bad memories.”
Max slides from my lap, hands running over my legs, her touch tantalizing.
Looking up at me, I cock an eyebrow. “What are you planning, kitten?”
She gives me that grin—the one that melts my insides, turns my mind into putty, and has me chasing her into every trouble known to mankind.
Her tongue darts out, swirling around my cock. My hips buck and I groan, nails digging into the armrest.Holy fuck.
