Page 120 of A Rising Hope

Finnleah had already changed into her nightgown—my shirt—that she declared was hers and I did not object. Her hair was loose, perfectly cascading down her shoulders, a few strands tucked behind her ears. I leaned against the door frame, arms folded, unable to tear my eyes away from her.

She chewed on her lip, tapping the paper with a pencil, lost in her thoughts. I stood motionless, gawking. Feeling my burning gaze on her, she looked up. Her eyes raked over me, pausing on the low V of my stomach and the short rag on my hips. Fully aware of my charade, she shook her head, smiling before returning to staring at her paper.

Though I would never admit it, such quick dismissal stung my male pride.

“So . . . when do I get to hear about your so-called friend?” I narrowed my eyes at her, craving her admiring gaze to returnto me. I promised myself I wouldn’t ask, but then again, I really needed to stop making myself promises I wasn’t capable of keeping. I knew it didn’t matter and yet even hours after the war council, I still found myself lost to the thought of the two of them.

“Aw, is that jealousy I sense?” she mocked me, the sound cruel and wicked and yet so fucking seductive. The vicious little thing knew it was eating me alive and yet she hadn’t said a thing about the not-so-mysterious friend.

“Maybe. Maybe not. Why don’t you come here and find out?” I challenged her.

“Tempting, I must say. But, ” she mumbled, still glued to the fucking paper. “I am good.”

“So that’s the game you are going to play . . . ” A corner of my mouth tugged upward. She just shrugged, unbothered. “You are cruel; you know that right?” My voice dropped low. She looked up then, her lips parading a satisfied grin, content to see my disheveled state mixed with desire at her wicked little glance.

“So people say.” She flicked her hair behind her. My shirt slipped, exposing her shoulder with the movement as she set the paper aside. “Some might say it’s the weight of the crown. Some might say it’s her husband abandoning her to go die over and over again without mentioning that there is a chance he might live.” The flicker of fury in her eyes like flame to a moth, only drawing me, calling me closer to her.

“So cruelandbitter, how lucky of you to possess two of the most truly desired traits in a woman.”

“Ah Emperor, you are giving luck too much credit. Luck had nothing to do with this. I crafted all that hatred and bitterness on my own.” She theatrically picked on her nails as if my presence didn’t matter at all.

“I am starting to realize that. So abundantly gifted in such skill.”

“Indeed. Suchdesirabletraits in a woman are rare to find, which makes me quite exciting company to keep. Especially to my type of men.” Her gorgeous eyes sparked with a taunting flame.

“And what type of men are those, Finnleah?” I tilted my head to the side, playing along with her game.

She folded her arms, going for the kill as she pierced me with her glare.

“Oh, you know, the powerful kind, the ones with very questionable morals and a dash of arrogance . . . Say a war general or a drug lord. I have a lot of options.”

She knew exactly what she was doing, watching my heart beat faster at her words.

I knew I had lost this game before I even started, surrendered and defeated.

“Oh, let’s hear more about those options of yours. I, for one, am dying of curiosity.”

“Well, dying seems to be your thing, so perhaps I’ll leave you to it.” Her eyes flashed with thrill, enjoying every moment of this torture. She stood up, sauntering towards the small round end table in the corner with a pitcher of water, pouring herself a cup. She theatrically took the longest sip of water. My eyes hungrily pinned on her bobbing throat, cock twitching at the sight of her exposed muscled legs.

She set the cup down.

“Better go get dressed, wouldn’t want you catching a chill.” She waved me off.

“Hmm . . . we are not done here.” I stared at her.

“Oh, but I just decided we are.” She dismissed me, walking back to the worn-out feather mattress on the ground serving as our bed for the night.

In a blink and I was across the room. Her body trapped between the wall and me. Her back flush against the peeling wallpaper. Wrists pinned above her head.

“Glad to see you still have a tendency to pin women,” she angrily spat out, attempting to get out of my hold, all pointlessly.

“It’sawoman, Finnleah. A single one. You wanted to play games; well, I am going to play one of my own.” My nose brushed hers, drunken on her enthralling scent.

“And what game is that?” she whispered defiantly. Her eyes dropped to my lips, begging me to taste hers.

“One where I get to fuck that cruel attitude out of you,” I murmured against her lips. Her heart raced against her chest; nipples perked up against my shirt. Impatiently, she reached for a kiss, but I pulled back, meeting her heated gaze with one of my own. “You are mine, Finnleah, as much as I am yours. Only mine. No one else’s.” As much as I pretended not to care, not to be bothered by the thought of another man lusting after her, I couldn’t help it. I’d fucking kill him. My heated look told her that much.

“No killing allowed,” she mumbled with a sultry whisper as if reading my mind. Her jagged breaths pricked my skin, pleading me to take her.

---