Page 23 of The Death King

But he wasn’t a monster with wings and claws, with a jaw that unhinged to show razor-sharp teeth. Contrary to the legends, he was a man—or he was a shapeshifter.

He sat in the other armchair, one ankle crossed on the opposite knee, wearing armor that was midnight blue and black, his cape hanging off the side of the chair so it wouldn’t wrinkle. Like a vivid dream, he looked real, felt real…but I was the only one who could see him. “Greetings, Talon.” His eyes were serious, but his mouth was set in an amused smile. “A beautiful woman sleeps in your bed, but you sit alone by the fire, your dick no longer shiny and wet.”

I didn’t cover myself. Didn’t care what he saw.

“The completion of this deal is taking a lot longer than I anticipated.”

“I still don’t have what I need.”

“I disagree,” he said coldly. “I’ve given you powers beyond belief.”

“It’s still not enough.”

His elbows rested on the armrests, and his hands came together.

“I need dragons.”

“That’s not what you asked for.”

“Because that’s not something you can give.”

“But I gave you something else?—”

“I already said it’s not enough. It claimed a lesser kingdom, but a lesser kingdom won’t beat a greater one. It won’t win the crown of revenge that belongs upon my head. It’s not enough.”

Bahamut stared at me, eyes locked on mine and not drifting anywhere else. “If you need dragons, then find dragons.”

“I’ve scoured this world far and wide—and I’ve only found Khazmuda.”

“Then perhaps we should dissolve this agreement.”

I stared, feeling the invisible veil of threat fall upon me.

“Because I don’t have forever, Talon.” His grin returned in full force. “Oh wait, I do. But that’s not the point.”

Natalie sat up in bed, squinting in the light from the fire, her hair a mess. “Are you talking to someone?” she asked in a raspy voice, clearly half asleep.

My eyes shifted back to Bahamut.

The chair was empty.

“Your Majesty?” she asked in her same coarse voice.

I rose to my feet and approached the four-poster bed. “It’s time to go, Natalie.”

She stilled at the dismissal. “It’s the middle of the night?—”

“You’re my whore, not my lover.” I’d made it clear there would be no overnight stays in my chambers. The other girls understood those rules, but Natalie always tried to push me because she had her own agenda. If she fucked me good enough, she would be a queen instead of a concubine.

No woman would ever call my bed her own.

She continued to sit there, feigning shock at my outburst.

“Don’t make me ask again.”

She finally got moving, picking up her dress from the floor, taking her time getting dressed as if a couple seconds of tension would make me apologize for my outburst.

But I wasn’t sorry.

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