Page 28 of A King So Savage

As much as Kingston frightened her, his brother was far worse. Hatred boiled beneath the amicable surface, and the evil in the man’s stare when his eyes tracked over her made Ava shiver.

“How is Neil?” Kingston asked, brushing past Oliver and continuing toward the house. Maybe it was Ava’s imagination, her exhausted state playing tricks, but she thought Kingston squeezed her against his chest just a little bit tighter.

As though he were subconsciously shielding her from his brother.

“He’ll live. And lucky for our prisoner, he’s not even holding a grudge. Says he understands why she bashed him over the head with a soda pop bottle.” Oliver chuckled. “He insists he doesn’t want her punished because of this.”

“That’s my decision. Not his.”

Oliver grinned. “I reminded him of that. We all know you don’t ignore transgressions of any sort.”

Kingston nodded at one of the men, who quickly jumped forward to swing open a set of French doors.

Ava took a quick peek as they entered. This was a different area of the house than the point of her earlier escape. This room was oversized, outfitted with two deep, chocolate-hued leather sofas and several occasional chairs upholstered in a soothing design of taupe and cream. A warm fire crackled in an enormous stone fireplace, and the walls were decorated with works of art. Valuable works of art, Ava realized. Degas on one wall. Monet on another.

The space was opulent yet understated, and every inch of it screamed of wealth and privilege.

But Ava was unable to fully appreciate the beauty of it all. Kingston did not linger. He continued through until he reached an open set of double carved-oak doors on the far side of the room. He strode through those then turned down a wide, high-ceilinged corridor lined with floor-to-ceiling windows. Nothing could be seen through those windows other than the blackness of the night beyond.

“I can walk,” Ava said in a low voice, wishing he would set her down on her feet and yet dreading that moment. “Sir,” she added in hopes of appeasing his anger.

“Not just yet, lamb,” he murmured, then called over his shoulder, “Oliver. I want all the men assembled in the conference room. Five minutes.”

Peeking over Kingston’s shoulder, Ava made eye contact with Oliver, who trailed in their wake. The man smirked at her.

“Sure thing, brother.”

“Including Doctor Abbott.”

A chill snaked its way through Ava. Would Kingston return her to the cell first before addressing his men? She hoped so, but he continued winding down various corridors, past various rooms, some with the doors closed, some open and revealing lavish furniture and trappings. She began to suspect this meeting had something to do with her.

And her thwarted escape attempt.

Her teeth were chattering again by the time Kingston reached what must be the conference room.

It wasn’t a conference room like one might expect. It certainly wasn’t one you would find in a corporate building for a Fortune 500 company. No, this was in keeping with the rest of the mansion’s décor. It was dark. Masculine. Opulent and yet sleek. It was a room where life and death decisions were made and all by a savage king hellbent on keeping power and control over his subjects. Including herself.

Without speaking, he set her down on a gleaming table which appeared to have been stolen straight out of a vampire’s lair. The heavy mahogany rectangle dominated the room. Eleven matching chairs carved from the same wood were assembled around it.

There was only one chair situated at one head of the table. The opposite end was conspicuously empty.

Kingston lifted Ava’s bound hands over his head and let them settle in her lap.

When she tried sliding off the table, he gripped her waist and easily pushed her back. “No,” he murmured. “Stay where I place you.”

Ava frowned as he resettled his shirt around her shoulders. Running his forefinger under her chin, he lifted it until she met his eyes.

Hungry determination lit the blackish-blue depths. And it was crazy, but Ava thought the tattooed lion on his chest snarled with even greater ferocity.

Now that she could see it in the light, she realized the artwork really did serve a purpose. It covered a scar of some sort. The thin, jagged white line about five inches in length over his heart made up one of the lion’s fangs. And she could read the words tattooed across his ribs now.

Crush~Conquer~Protect

The words made no sense in Ava’s jumbled state of mind. Dragging her gaze back up, she witnessed a grim expression as it crossed Kingston’s features. She shivered with belated fear and awareness. This man was capable of doing such terrible things to her, and there was no one who would dare stop him.

“What is happening? Why haven’t you returned me to the cell?”

“So eager for its protection now, Miss Blue?” A reluctant smile tugged at his lips.

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