Page 54

It usually takes two days to reach my territory, lengthened now that I’ve promised to stop at two neighboring kingdoms along the way. Four days in close quarters with the one being who could undo a decade of carefully constructed control. Four days trapped on a ship crewed half by my men and half by lycan mercenaries who watch everything behind shifty, polite smiles.

Their ship is docked on my island, filled with the supplies our treaty guarantees them, and once we arrive, they will sail home, telling King Zander of anything amiss. If they report back that I have found not just my bond but my mage, there will be war, and any treaty Zander spoke of would be denied unless she was handed over for his use too, which I will not allow, not even for my kingdom.

I cast one last glance at her sleeping form before I leave to make my rounds. She has no idea of the storm brewing around her, of the power she holds in her delicate mortal hands.

The main deck is awash with activity. Sailors climb the rigging, unfurling sails that snap in the cold air. The captain stands at the helm, his weathered face impassive as he calls orders to his crew. “Your Majesty.” He bows slightly as I approach. “We’ll catch the tide in ten minutes. Should put us at King Xavian’s port by tomorrow morning, if the weather holds.”

“What does the weather look like?” I ask, feeling the bite in the air that promises a harsh day ahead.

“Clear for now,” the captain says, “but there’s a storm building to the north. We might catch the edge of it before we reach the Demon King’s waters.”

I nod, scanning the horizon where the first faint hints of dawn are beginning to lighten the eastern sky.

The captain shifts uncomfortably and lowers his voice. “Sir, I saw the woman locked in cargo away from the other humans—”

“She’s none of your concern.”

He hesitates, clearly wanting to ask more. Instead, he nods and follows me around, answering my questions.

We check the stock-humans bound for my kingdom, rations, supplies needed for the power issues back home, and treasures from the main island that will fetch a high price in mine. Each item is accounted for, and each space is utilized to fit as many and as much as possible.

When the sky begins to brighten, I retreat below deck again, the familiar weight of daylight pressing in. Even though it won’t kill me, being weak means being vulnerable.

The curse has caused many challenges, but few are as inconvenient as the sun’s effect on me. Still, it remains an unwelcome reminder of limitations I’ve spent a decade trying to overcome.

My men move with increased urgency as the light strengthens, ensuring no light can seep below deck. The Lycan King’s men seem relieved as I retreat to my quarters. The uneasy truce between our kingdoms is maintained by distance.

I pause outside my cabin door, listening. Her breathing has changed, becoming deeper. Proper sleep rather than unconsciousness.

Once inside, I stand staring longer than I mean to, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest.

I’m mesmerized by the sight of her in my bed, by the way her ash-blonde hair spreads across my pillow. By the vulnerability of her exposed throat where the blanket has slipped down to her waist. By the knowledge that she is completely at my mercy.

I step closer, drawn by something I can’t name.

I don’t realize how close I am until my fingers brush her skin, and fuck, it is like touching a live wire dipped in honey. Her delicate flesh is soft, laced in goose bumps beneath my fingertips as they trace the curve of her neck, down to the swell of her chest.

Her skin is warm, and when she shifts slightly, the blanket continues to slide down her body where her dress is rucked up around her hips. Despite knowing it’s the bond she cannot recognize, I still can’t bring myself to stop my traveling hand. She squirms under my touch.

Her legs are parting slightly. Christ, those milky thighs, and I am hit with the sight of her exposed pussy, glistening like she’s been waiting for me all along. She may not mentally recognize our bond, but it’s clear her body does.

My fingers hover for a heartbeat before tracing up the inside of her thigh and grazing her folds, and I find myself entranced by how delicate she feels. She lets out a soft moan that makes my cock twitch in my pants. I don’t stop, couldn’t even if I wanted to, even if it’s the right thing to do, because the way she chases my touch is fucking addictive. Her hips lift, and I press harder, circling her clit until moisture covers my fingers. Testing my luck, I slide my finger between her glistening folds.

She jolts awake, her eyes wide with fear and desire, but my reaction is just as swift. I pin her to the bed with ease, my hand still buried between her legs.

Her heart thuds loudly, her eyes glassy, but her body betrays her, slick and hot for me. “Tell me it doesn’t feel good, and I’ll stop,” I murmur. Her mouth opens, but I press down on her clit, making her hips buck, and whatever words she was going to say are lost.

I brush my thumb over her clit.

“I want to devour you,” I growl, as my finger slips inside her tight, wet cunt. I wait to be thrown off her, wait for her magic to jolt me, but it never comes, which only urges me to continue. Her mind may be in shamed refusal, but the bond and her body aren’t denying me, nor has she asked me to stop.

Her walls clench around me like a vice, and I fucking love the way she whimpers beneath me. One of her hands escapes my grip, and she grabs my wrist just as I add another finger, stretching her. Her hold falters, not pulling my hand away as I fuck her with slow, deliberate strokes that have her gasping, squirming, giving me better access.

“You’re so fucking wet,” I snarl as I curl my fingers inside her, finding that sweet spot, and her thighs part further for me.

I watch her face, enjoying her discomfort as she fights the pleasure I am dragging out of her. Her cheeks are red with embarrassment, like she can’t believe she isn’t fighting me.

When she can no longer take my gaze, her eyes close, her hips rocking against my fingers. A savage growl tears out of me, and my control is obliterated. My fangs split my gums, lips finding her warm throat, and I bite.