Page 31 of To Claim a King

Her entire face was on fire right about now.

“She’s yet to win that right,” Nathos reminded them, but his tone wasn’t unkind. “However, she may make a decent wife to our King regardless.”

Oh. Well, that didn’t make a blink of sense.

“What did you just say?”

The advisor shrugged.

“I’d gathered you hadn’t figured that yet. The Claiming is simply a tournament where our women fight for the right to beQueen.Nothing says that they have to bind themselves to the King.”

Holy hell.

They carried on chatting about nonsensical things such as borders and evil and hunts, while her world spun off its axis. All of a sudden, she didn’t have to fight a bunch of fire breathers for the man she wanted. She could have him - if he would have her.

She lifted her gaze to his and he seemed as shocked, ignoring the rest of their party, and staring right at her.

Then, the King smiled, and lifted his hand, bidding her to take it. She didn’t hesitate. He pulled her to him when she interlinked his fingers with hers, and whispered, “The old man was laughing behind our backs this whole time, right?”

“Yep. Yep, he was.”

“I’m going to kill him.”

“Get in line.”

Feral

So this waswhy they’d ignored his grumbling and his tantrums when he’d protested against them calling for a damn Claiming; all along, he’d had a choice. They’d simply wanted a Queen so that the females may have their rulers, their Alphas - Kings didn’t rule women as well as they might - but they couldn’t have cared less about whom he chose to share his den with. He could have her. He could have his Rider. Alexandria was to be a Vasili, regardless of the results of a stupid tournament.

The world didn’t seem to care about the fact that his life had just changed, or started to make sense; it carried on. There still was an entire undefended entrance to his Kingdom, and evil plans at work.

Before he could bring himself to return to these matters, he dropped his head to his mate’s ear and informed her, “I’ll marry you before the year is out.”

He wouldn’t do it in the middle of the Claiming - he could see how it would be bad form - but he’d be damned if he waited longer.

“Was there some sort of a question there?”

No. There was no question.

“Do you want a big or a small celebration?”

She chuckled against his chest.

“We don’t know each other. I don’t know why it’s happened - why I’ve been fixed on you from the very first time I saw you, in those dirty rags, but I knew then what I know now. You’re mine.”

He’d noticed that his advisors had stopped talking, done pretending that they weren’t paying attention to his whispered words.

“And you’re mine,” Xandrie repeated, holding on tighter to his hand. “So, yes, I’ll marry you before the year is out. And I’ll also win this Kingdom of yours, if I can.”

* * *

The King’skitchens did not do things by halves. The spread laid out on the forest floor included game pies, roasted venison. Rhey dug through the kitchen hampers and handed Xandrie a small, ornate box. “From Chef.”

Xandrie lifted the lid to find a nest of dark chocolate bon-bons. She’d told Chef they were the meltiest magic she’d ever tasted, but it never crossed her mind he’d do anything as sweet as sending her a private stash when she was out with the hunt. All eyes were on her. “Nope. Not going to share,” she said and popped one in her mouth.

“Just a little?”

Rhey’s eyes, so cold sometimes, apparently could turn to molten skies and hypnotize her when he wanted something.

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