Page 19 of Given to the Black King

He looks at me.

My pulse kicks at the base of my throat.

Another beats between my legs.

His gaze drops.

The air leaves him in a rough breath.

His breath catches on my scent.

“Everyone out,” he says.

Callas rises. “Great King, we have not finished⁠—”

“Out.”

Chairs scrape back.

I remain seated.

Callas grips the back of my chair. “Iona.”

The king’s eyes stay on mine. “The envoy stays.”

Callas looks from him to me.

“Go,” I say.

Perr gathers the papers so quickly he drops three. Ghenn collects them and pushes him toward the door.

Then we are alone.

The king comes around the table. My body tightens with every step. He stops two paces away.

“You were aroused.”

No greeting. No attempt at politeness.

I should deny it.

He would smell the lie.

“Yes.”

His claws flex.

“By what?”

“The speed.”

His eyes narrow.

“The strength,” I admit. “The fact that he threatened me and you put him on the floor.”

“I did not do it for you.”

“Didn’t you?”