Page 63 of Savage Kingdom

Gideon hugged me tighter. He turned me around, his hand coming to my chest, and we just watched the way the waves violently clashed in the sand, yet there was something so beautiful about it. Two different things that coexisted in violent harmony but could never be together.

“She is the one that named me,” I found myself sharing. “She named me after her mother. I think my mother resented me for that.” It sounded silly, but it was true.

“Is this where you tell me your name?”

I looked up at him and found him smiling at me. I could see the moonlight reflected in his amber eyes. I didn’t think I’d ever seen such a beautiful sight.

“Nice try, handsome.”

Just like that, his eyes went dark. It always fascinated me how his emotions came and went. A little after Chicago, I hacked the file MI6 had on him. They had him labeled as a psychopath with obsessive tendencies. He could mirror any emotion and make you believe he really cared. This was why he was one of their best because he was obsessed with winning, and he did whatever it took to get the job done.

I wasn’t his job, but an obsession.

For tonight that was okay. We were incapable of love. He had jobs to fulfill to feel complete, and it was time I wore the cruel crown I had inherited.

I wiped the tears from my eyes, then pulled away. I turned around and watched as Gideon gauged me, trying to figure me out. He never would until he knew the full truth. Only then would he fully understand.

“I know it is not fair for me to ask this of you—” I didn’t get to finish my sentence because Gideon pulled me forward by gripping my neck, and he attacked my mouth.

We went at each other like monsters in the dark. He fucked the weakness out of me, and I fueled his obsession with me. We fucked with our clothes on—the intimacy of what I shared was already more than enough. I think he knew I couldn’t handle more. We went at it until a bit before dawn broke. When he fell asleep, I kissed his cheek and walked away.

I had a plane to catch.

Whoever sent me my babushka’s remains wanted to appease me, keep me calm, but the only thing it did was fuel me.

I needed to get home because it was time to wage war.

Present

We could defy time, but we could never defy death.

There has always beensomething so fascinating about tragic love stories. Two jagged edges trying to make fit, despite the wounds, the stabbing, and bruising. In moments at a time, I fell in love with a man I could never have. He put all his energy into me, and I didn’t have any left to give to him.

Selfishly, I took everything he gave me and asked for more knowing I could never give him anything in return. I couldn’t bear any children; I wasn’t taught to love, and I couldn’t ask of him to wear the burden of my crown.

We fucked like beasts with no morals and no code. Through the darkness of his tent, we were monsters. I could pretend like he’d never lied to me, and he could deny that I would betray him. Pretty little lies fell from our lips. Poison lingered in our kiss. Empty promises was all we could ever be.

My body was spent, begging for me to stop, slow down, but I couldn’t. I fucked him harder and longer, taking everything he so willingly gave and tainting it with each orgasm. I should be half-asleep with the man lying next to me, but willpower had a way of keeping you up even when your body wanted to give up.

The delicious ache between my legs would serve as a reminder of my betrayal for the next few days. Then all that would be left was the hole in my chest. I’d been living with half a heart; living heartless shouldn’t be a problem.

I ran my hand over Gideon’s hair, aware that the sleeping toxin I had pinched him with would be wearing off soon. I had left the dart with the poison here earlier when I snuck it in. There was no way he wouldn’t have found it if I had brought it in with me. Gideon was crazy if he didn’t think I knew about my lighter; after our night in London, the damn thing went missing. He didn’t have to make a show of pulling it out to bait me. He was my prey the moment my eyes locked with his—since the first time I saw him.

My hand roamed over his handsome features as I committed them to memory: the prickly feel of his unshaven jaw, and his perfect bow lips. I was determined to memorize every part of him so when I was alone one step closer to my throne, I knew the price I had to pay to get my crown.

If I could have it any other way, he would be by my side, a trusted adversary—my king—but he was a pawn. The moment I grabbed his wrist, it felt like déjà vu. I cuffed them together, then brought them up to his head and stabbed them to the mattress with a long blade.

A fighting chance was all I was going to give him.

I fucking hoped it was more than enough.

As soon as he was secured, his eyes sprang open. The amber swirls were dark with lust. His head tipped back to where I had him bound, and when our eyes met again, his whiskey eyes were full of retribution.

Betrayal lingered in his gaze, and I forced myself to look at him, unwavering and unflinching. It had to be done, and I hoped he understood.

His chest heaved. He opened his mouth and closed it immediately. He was so angry he couldn’t even talk to me. I didn’t blame him.

“Petal.” His voice was soft but held a warning. He knew I was betraying him, yet he wanted to hear the deception coming from my lips.

---