Page 30 of You're Not My King!

I screwed my eyes shut, dug my fingers into the squidgy tree and hoped to fuck the panther thing wasn’t the type to torture its food before chowing down. That would absolutely ruin my day. But instead of searing pain, there was an alien battle cry followed by a howl and a hissing drift of sand. My eyes shot open, going wide at the sight of Voh-ack’s back, his arms extended, using his body to shield me.

I could have kissed him.

“Hurt?” he asked over his shoulder, gaze locked on the beast as it staggered to its feet. My hero must’ve barreled into the forest without hesitation, his hands bare and no weapon drawn, just using brute strength to knock the animal to the ground.

Kinda wished I’d seen it.

“Not hurt,” I responded, and he nodded before side stepping, beating at his chest to keep the panther’s attention.

They circled one another, baring their fangs, menacing rumbles echoing in the space between them. Voh-ack carefully drew his sword as he crouched, movements sure and calculated, thumping his tail against the ground like a war drum before whipping it toward the beast. Was he trying to intimidate it or goad it? I couldn’t tell, but whatever his plan, he was clearly enjoying himself. The grin that spread over his face as he barked a teasing, “Come to me,” was all the proof I needed.

He was showing off.

For my benefit.

Without warning, the beast lunged, claws raised, and the world seemed to dial back to slow motion. They collided in the middle, a flurry of red scales and black fur, claws and fangs, and I slapped a palm over my mouth, stifling my gasp. I couldn’t distract him. I couldn’t be the reason he got hurt. Or worse. Though muffled in my ears, there was so much noise, scuffling and shouting. It was quick, and I could do nothing but stand there, useless. Waiting. Worrying. My uneven breaths puffed against my hand, suffocating, and for a second, I felt everything stand still.

A pained yelp broke through the panic, the weight lifting, bringing me hurtling back. My breath caught.

Silence.

It was over.

The beast slumped to the forest floor, limp and lifeless, blue blood gushing from a gash on its neck. I laid a shaky hand over my chest, willing my heart to slow as I watched Voh-ack, whole and unharmed, rise to his full height, splotches of cerulean painting his body, his sword drenched with it.

Relief soaked every single fiber of my being. He’d fought for me, defended me, and now he stood there, eyes flooded black, covered in gore, looking all primal. Suddenly, thoughts were entirely too difficult.

Voh-ack cleaned and sheathed his blade without taking his eyes off me, before advancing slowly, a predator cornering its prey. It was the most erotic non-sexual act I’d ever seen. Every flexing muscle in his body exuded sex appeal, and he knew it.

“Roo-bin,” he purred as he closed the gap between us, stopping a few inches in front of me so he could bend down and brush his lips and nose over my cheek.

I swallowed thickly, my heart racing, skin prickling, and nerves going haywire. The scent of Voh-ack’s sweat and the beast’s viscera surrounded me, filling my lungs.

Fuck, why was I so turned on?

“I smell you wanting, Cah-ka-rook-uh,” he said, and I could hear the smirk in his voice. And had he learned more English since we’d last spoken, or was that just me? Was that why I’d seen him sneaking around with Fiona a couple of times?

Either that or they were secret lovers, but I wholly suspected she would not put up with him in that capacity.

“You are a tempting morsel,” he carried on. “I would breed you here, if you allow.”

Fuuuck.

How could one guy be so hard to resist? Yeah, he was smoldering hot, and sex with him had felt amazing, but I shouldn’t have been so close to giving in, and I couldn’t even confidently say why anymore. I tipped my head for him, a breathy moan escaping as he licked up the column of my neck, nipping gently at the pulse point. My hands skimmed up his sides, committing each scale and spike to memory, fingers skating over the mounds of his chest, and?—

I faltered, doing a double take. There was a scratch on Voh-ack’s shoulder, leaking a river of blood, blue blood, that wasn’t from the animal. My face drained of all color.

“You’re hurt?”

Voh-ack withdrew to look down at the spot, frowning as if he also hadn’t realized. He rolled his shoulders, testing mobility, and shrugged. “No.”

I didn’t know why exactly—it was some sort of instinct, a flare of bone-deep worry that bloomed out of nowhere in my gut—but I saw red.

“No? No?! Are you…” I growled, shoving at the solid wall of his stomach, achieving nothing. How could he be so blasé? So fucking careless? “Enough of the macho bullshit. There’s blood, for fuck’s sake. Your blood. What do you mean, no?”

He reached out, presumably to squeeze my nape as he’d done before. “Roo?—”

“Don’t Roo me.” I took a step back, dodging his touch. He made a pathetic noise in his throat, and it only irritated me more. How could he risk his life like that without thought? He was an idiot. “I gotta clean you up or you’ll get an infection.”

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