Page 40 of Hunger & Harmony

Niko isn’t a game, though. He’s not like music, a forbidden fruit that I’ve chased for so long. He’s far more tangible and so different. It’s not his status, his fame, his power. It’s him I want to get close to. The man behind the crown. The soul within black leather and silver chains.

He treats me like a whole person. While he didn't hesitate to insult me to my face, he’s also the same man who brought me warmth, showed me the stars, and let me fall asleep on him. I can’t figure him out, and that’s the fun part.

I don’t want his persona. I want what he hides. Who he really is.

The flash of a camera jerks me from my thoughts. I rearrange my face to stop smiling like an idiot when my brain catches up.

“Yes! Yes, the drama, the power!”

When did the photoshoot start? My jaw goes slack. The set, wardrobe, and arrangements are to die for. Rapid-fire orders blend with flashes and clicks.

Opulence marries rockstar chic flawlessly. Selene is draped in satin and chain mail, echoes of a knightly uniform blending with her sweeping, midnight gown. Ezren’s outfit is sultry and noble, while Ryel poses in a gothic ensemble.

My eyes are only for Niko. He looks every bit the king he is, hair tousled under a gold crown. The warm metal is stark against his dark hair and garments, and I find it rather symbolic. The most prominent thing about him is what I’m least interested in.

“Unbutton his shirt, pull up the throne!” the photographer hollers, coordinators and stylists getting to work. “We need more! More gothic allure, more kingly dominance, more . . .”

I must be watching in awe a little too closely because the creative lead suddenly snaps and points at me.

“You there! Redhead. You—yes, her.” He talks to the stylists. “Glam her up; she’s otherwise perfect!”

Wait, what?

“Stand here beside His Majesty,” he says, the camera now staring at me as makeup brushes and fingers find my face and hair. “No, closer.” Those hands quickly push us together, and my cheeks heat under the new layer of blush. “Closer!”

My breath hitches as Niko’s arm slides around my waist. I look up, his jaw tight as his eyes meet mine.

What is going on? I’m not any kind of model!

“Wait, I’m not⁠—”

“You’re perfect,” the photographer purrs. “A new breed. Something we haven’t seen before!”

He’s right. I haven’t been seen like this before. My hair is bigger, more dramatic, and the shade of lipstick floating towards me matches Niko’s eyes. It’s like I’m a doll, unable to see entirely what they’ve done, only able to feel the heavier layer of makeup and hairspray.

Despite the chaos and my thundering heart, Niko is steady. Respectful. The room is spinning, and strangers are poking at me, watching me, but his firm grasp is grounding. It’s not flirtation as he corrects my poses. Even when he brushes my hair to the side, he’s in perfect control. I’ve lost all knowledge of what anyone else is saying or doing, solely locked in on him.

My hands rest against his bare chest. I try to remain unfazed, but it’s so hard not to feel weak in the knees. Never did I think my first time feeling his body so close to mine would be captured by thousands of camera clicks. Not just for the crowd here, but for the world.

The world promptly slams back into focus when his lips brush over my neck.

“Closer. Yes, Your Majesty, eyes on the camera!”

I stiffen, and Niko’s thumbs press into my skin. A gentle reminder.

He cradles the back of my neck, his other hand firm on my waist. The camera must be behind us. I know what shot they’re going for.

“The damsel and the monster! Oh yes, perfect! Pure seduction and submission!”

The faceless prey within a king’s grasp. That’s all I am in their eyes. A prop for Niko to play into his nature as the cameras flash.

I don’t know why a flash of anger pulses through me. Maybe there are a lot of women who’d love to be in this position, but it’s counter to everything he makes me feel.

Not that my pouting stops shivers cascading down my spine. When his fangs ghost against my neck, never touching but so tantalizingly close, I press my thighs together.

“Is this how you usually do it?” I whisper, mostly muttering to myself.

Niko pauses for just a moment, voice low in my ear.