Page 92 of Wings of Betrayal

He pushes me toward the doors, reaches around me to open them, and then shoves me once more. I stumble through them into his quarters, almost tripping. He closes the doors and storms toward me, and I swear he’s going to hit me. I brace my arms over my face, but he stops.

“I will not hurt you. I’m sorry about before.” His voice sounds gentle.

What is wrong with this male? “You’resorry?”

“Where were you?” he asks, and his voice holds nothing but concern.

I fold my arms over my chest and remain silent.

He squeezes his eyes closed and pinches his nose. “I swear to the gods, you’d better answer me. I do not want to hurt you, but that doesn’t mean I won’t.”

Bastard. “You know where I was.”

He narrows his eyes and then storms forward, yanking my cloak from around my neck and eying the large black T-shirt I wear. Oh no.

“What the hell is that?”

I bite my bottom lip. “It’s a friend’s.”

“A male friend? Who?”

I blow out a breath and take a step back. “It’s none of your business.”

He raises his hand at me, and I flinch.

Then he lowers it and strides across the room. “You infuriate me! I asked you a question, and may I remind you once more, I am your King, and you will obey my command! Now whose is it?”

“A watcher, okay? He helped me.”

He balls his fists and begins pacing his room like a maniac about to explode. “Helped you how? Why are you wearing his clothing? Tell me his name.”

“He helped me find my father. And then I had a few too many drinks at the bar, and he took me to his place to keep me safe. I threw up on my leathers, so he lent me his T-shirt. Okay? And no, I will not tell you his name.”

His complexion pales a bit, his shock obvious. “You found Atticus? And went to a bar? Fuck, Zarla.”

I ignore him, knowing damn well I don’t owe him anything.

He presses his balled fists into his face and slowly moves closer to me. “By the gods, answer me.”

I let out a frustrated breath. “Yes, I found him. But he refused to acknowledge he’s my father. And yes, I went to a bar.”

His jaw tenses as he runs his fingers along it, and I swear he’s pissed but not about the bar. “He’s an asshole. I told you I was only trying to protect you from him. Did this male touch you?”

“No, he didn’t. He was kind. He’s a friend.”

He throws his head back and snorts. “Afriend? A male watcher is not your friend, Zarla. He only wants to get into your pants.”

I purse my lips and glare at him.

“You know what they’re like. You’ve seen it yourself, the way Zalore treats your sister. Tell me you’re not that stupid. His name.Now.”

I grit my teeth and storm toward the door, but he beats me there, blocking my way.

“Oh no, you’re not going anywhere. You will remain in here until I decide what to do with you.”

I attempt to shove him out of the way, but it’s no use. Then an idea pops into my head, and I knee him hard between the legs and make a beeline for the balcony doors. He grabs me from behind, lifts me into the air, and carries me over to his bed. He throws me down, and when I attempt to get up, he shoves me back again and points a finger at me.

“Don’t you dare get up,” he threatens.

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