Page 94 of Craved By a Wolf

And soon.

The clock was ticking.

She felt that deep in her gut as they finished navigating the corridors, passing elegant drawing rooms and even a gallery that had paintings and sculptures of past kings, and entered an enormous double-height room.

Ethyrian sat on a throne on a dais of turquoise stone and gold at the far end of it, dressed in a fine white silk shirt and rich green leathers that hugged his thighs as he spread his knees and gazed at her.

Her guard pushed her in the back when she instinctively stopped, feeling like a prey animal that was about to get served up to the worst sort of predator.

She tipped her chin up and her shoulders back, refusing to let Ethyrian see her fear as she strode towards him along the rich turquoise strip of carpet that lined the centre of the impressive room. The arched ceiling was pure glass, with only narrow beams of solid gold supporting it, revealing the strange twilight sky of Lucia. Aurora chased across the faint stars, and it would have been beautiful had her current company not been so terrifying or her fate so dire.

The guard shoved her again and she scowled over her shoulder at him. He glared at her this time. If she’d had her boots, she would have driven her heel into his toe. If she’d had her magic, she would have brought the glass ceiling down on him and Ethyrian. Too many ifs. She needed to focus on what she could do in her current state.

She considered her options as she marched towards Ethyrian.

It didn’t take long.

Her magic was bound—meaning she was as strong as a mortal—and no one knew where she was. Essentially, she was screwed.

But if she was going down, she was going down fighting.

With words at least.

“Your royal douchebag.” She dipped in a curtsey as the guard pulled her to a stop twenty feet from his king.

Ethyrian’s broad mouth flattened and his blue eyes flashed dangerously. “Your misbehaviour will not gain you what you want. I have learned your tricks. You escaped my tower. You cannot escape a cell. You fled from my men. You could not flee from a trap.”

He had her there.

She shrugged.

He drummed the fingers of his left hand against the golden arm of his throne and it was nice to see that she was already getting to him.

“When you are queen, you will act appropriately or you will be punished.” His tone brooked no argument.

So Hella decided to argue with him.

“If you want a queen, that witch you dumped to pursue me is open to the position. She even sent someone to take me out of the picture. Godiva honestly thought I was still with you and wanted a crown on my head!” She rolled her eyes. “I want neither of those things and I told her as much, so she’ll probably be swinging by soon to see you. I’m sure she’ll fawn over you all you want, so you have no need of me… now if you’d be a dear, I’ll be on my way.”

She lifted her hands before her and looked at her restraints.

“Silence!” Ethyrian pushed to his feet.

“No,” she bit out and tilted her chin up. “Let me go. I’ll make a terrible queen. You’ll be lucky to make it through our wedding night with your manhood still in place.”

He raised his left hand.

The guard behind her kicked her in the back of her knees.

She grunted as her legs buckled and she landed hard on the carpet.

Ethyrian smiled wickedly, far too much pleasure and amusement in his eyes for her liking. He knew he had the power here, that all she could do was bark and snap her fangs at him. She was beginning to see how Kin had felt all the times she had chained him, and regret was swift to flare again, worse this time. It chipped away at her strength as she thought about the wolf.

“Crawl to me,” he drawled.

Hella glared at him and mustered her strength, clinging to it. “Go to hell.”

Ethyrian stepped down from the dais and pointed to the toes of his dark green knee-high boots. “Crawl to me and beg me for mercy.”

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