Page 46 of Brutal Dragon King

I didn't spend the rest of the day building up the courage to go through with my plan for nothing. My little act of surrender to the king will not go in vain, especially after I was visited by his mother this morning.

Something shifts inside me, perhaps from watching the way he rides out his high as he throws his head back, groans and moans falling from his lips as he writhes in the chair. But it's an electric feeling of being able to overpower the king, and being the one in charge that sets my heart aflame with the courage I need to uncover the dagger from the back of my left thigh where I'd tucked it into the stocking for safekeeping until I found the right moment.

That moment is now, with the cast-iron handle between my fingers. While Haidën continues to ride the waves of his orgasm with his head thrown back, I glance at the dagger, the silver blade glinting with an invitation that beckons me to muster up all of my courage to press it to his neck in the nick of time when he lifts his head back up.

His eyes widen, and his tanned face loses color when he feels the sharp edge of the weapon pressing into his throat. His Adam's apple bobs with recognition against the blade, and his wide eyes stare at me, perplexed.

The look on his face right now is priceless, and I take a moment to etch it into memory where I'll never forget the king'shorrified stare moments before I killed him. That’s what I’ve come all this way for, to exact my revenge for what he did to my parents and inevitably ruined my life in the village.

My thirst for revenge has me peeling my lips back, flashing a contemptuous, sardonic smirk as my eyes fill with glee.

I did it.

I’m about to get exactly what I set out for.

I shouldn’t consider the reaping unlucky. In hindsight, what Delores did to betray me by working in cahoots with the witch to ensure that my token was the one picked in the draw actually worked out in my favor, if this is the result.

This right here—seeing the king squirming in his seat, too afraid to move lest the blade cuts him—is worth everything I’ve been through in my life.

Who would have thought that a measly human would stand up to the king in the most lethal of ways?

Smugness swells my chest, fuelling my resolve to continue the game I was playing. I was good, I must admit, and credit must be given where it’s due. After all, I’d been able to douse the licking flames of my unwarranted sexual attraction toward the king.

His undeniable charm might have worked all this time, but it has no authority over me right now. King Haidën may rule an entire kingdom of dragon shifters, humans, and everything in between, but his life is in my hands now.

While the dagger is pressed to his throat, he gulps, a bead of sweat trickling from his brow to depict his nervousness.

“This slave of yours will be the end of you…” I drawl seductively as I lean in. His taste remains swirling on my tongue,but it isn’t strong enough to throw me off track and defeat me with its potency.

My body might betray me when I lean in and catch the scent of his masculinity by dropping a new wave of arousal into the crotch of my panties, but my spirit is stronger, and my determination to go through with this won’t allow for his heady scent to hypnotize me.

Not anymore.

How he spoke to me in front of his brothers was the final nail in the coffin, and the Queen Mother read out his eulogy when she visited me this morning.

This is it.

“Althea…”

His warning tone does nothing to falter my intentions or break my will. I lean in even closer, staring at him squarely in the dark eyes of fear.

“Don’t you dare say my name…” I grate through gritted teeth, finally dropping the seductress act to open the floodgates of my anger and wrath.

If the king thought he was the only powerful being in the room, he was wrong. I’m the one wielding the Dragonclaw Dagger and have it pressed to his throat.

“One wrong move, and I’ll slit your throat,” I warn him.

He stares at me challengingly, lifting one careful brow as he doesn’t make a move. Something flickers in his dark eyes—perhaps recognition?

Does he know what he’s done to earn the demise at the hands of a human? Does he regret his cruel ways?

“Althea… Let’s talk…” He says in a controlled tone.

Chuckling sardonically, I straighten up and apply more pressure to the dagger on his throat, watching the way it causes a thin slitted indent in his flesh. He knows he can’t move, he’s at my mercy, and he does not attempt to even breathe the wrong way.

“Talk?” I chuckle hysterically, feeling like I’m turning crazed from the amount of power I wield right now. “Now you want to talk, King Haidën? After treating me like I wasn’t even worthy of your time?!”

“Is that—”

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