Page 240 of Reign

He’s right.

I’m holding her like she belongs to me because wanting her has stopped feeling temporary.

But Elena asked me to help her choose.

If I want that choice to be me, I have to offer her something real enough to stand against her brothers, the alliance, and the future I never planned for myself.

The question is no longer whether I want her.

It’s what I’m willing to promise before I ask her to choose me.

The thought doesn’t make me loosen my hold.

It makes me pull her closer.

Chapter 36

Elena

Throne Kingston is a monster of a man.

Dark hair. Dark eyes. Tattoos covering nearly every visible inch of skin before disappearing beneath his sleeves. Huge. The kind of huge that makes me wonder whether the gym is his full-time job or if he simply lives inside one.

Where Luciano looks like the devil—beautiful, elegant, dangerous—Throne looks like violence carved into something beautifully brutal.

Hot in the way a blade is pretty before someone uses it.

Terrifying.

Before the lights dimmed, Luciano gave me two rules.

I don’t speak during the scene, and if I need to leave, I tap his wrist twice.

Easy enough.

Throne walks toward the woman suspended in the center of the room, and I immediately understand why the rules were necessary.

There’s something almost innocent about her face, but her eyes are bright and a little wild when they find Throne.

She seems happy.

More than happy.

Eager.

I know she consented. I heard her discuss her limits and watched her answer every question Throne asked before he tied her. She trusts him.

But the ropes cutting into her skin, binding her breasts so tightly they’re turning a flushed, angry red, give me pause. She moans like she’s never been happier.

I’m not a prude.

But apparently there are levels to this shit, and this woman has skipped directly into the graduate program.

I am not ready for the graduate program.

Luciano’s hand rests against the back of my neck, warm and steady. His thumb moves once over my skin.

Right.