Page 87 of Reign of Betrayal

Deciding to find him, I walk through several corridors. Turning the last corner, I see Cora coming from his room. She adjusts her clothing when she spots me.

“If you plan on seeing the prince, he is…” she says with a wicked smile. “He is indisposed. Give him a few minutes. He’s probably getting dressed.” Shocked and disgusted… and hurt. These are the only words I can come up with for how I feel. He always seemed to blow her off. Did he sleep with her?

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind my presence, especially if he isn’t dressed,” I say coolly, walking past her with my head high. “Oh, and Cora,” I add, turning back, “if you see anyone heading this way, please tell them he’s tied up until tomorrow. He can never get enough of me.” My words hit their mark. Her face twists in pain and irritation, and her gray eyes glow with jealousy as wind magic swirls around her, blowing her hair everywhere.

Not waiting for a response, I stomp to the prince’s room and knock. Anger laces my every thought. If he actually cared for me, how could he sleep with her? He doesn’t care, does he? I’m a Drifter. I’m beneath them. I’m beneath Cora. My heart sinks a bit at the thought.

Lukene yanks the door open, wearing only a towel. My heart sinks again. “Cora, I said go away. Why can’t?—”

He stops when he sees me. “Reign… I, uh—come in.”

I walk into his blacked-out, muted room and sit in the chair I once occupied.

“Let me get dressed. I’ll be right out,” he says, disappearing into the washroom.

I look at his bed. It’s made neatly. No signs of a tryst. She lied. She lied! The heaviness in my chest feels lighter at the realization.

After a few moments of drowning in my thoughts, Lukene emerges from the washroom, dressed in his usual black button-down tunic and matching pants.

“What can I do for you, Reckless?”

“I… uh.” He has his shirt slightly unbuttoned, and I can see his rose tattoo peeking out along with the black stone necklace he is always wearing. His muscular chest is tan and chiseled, it’s distracting. He’s distracting.

“Like what you see, Prisoner?” he teases with that damn grin, and I swear my heart melts as heat floods my body.

“I have seen better…” I lie, licking my suddenly dry lips. I tug at my shirt, trying to cool myself, an action that doesn’t escape his notice. He chuckles, the sound smug and sensual.

“Doubt that,” he replies, cocking his head slightly, his lips parting just enough to look both inviting and dangerous. His eyes are hooded, and he rubs his chin in that calculating way that sends my mind spiraling.

Suddenly, I feel foolish for coming here, like a mouse caught in a cat’s trap. The sheer desire I feel for him in this moment leads me to believe I made a grave mistake. Standing from the chair to leave, I walk toward the door. His footsteps echo behind me, and before I know it, he’s spinning me around and pushing my back against the door.

He grasps my chin softly, tilting it so I have no choice but to meet his piercing emerald eyes. They glisten like dew on blades of grass, promising sinful pleasure. His wet, tousled hair hangs messily in his face, and the urge to run my fingers through it nearly overwhelms me.

“What is it that you want, Reckless?” he murmurs, his voice deep and husky. His lips are inches from mine. He slides his hand from my chin down to my throat and back up, and I instinctively tilt my head back, giving him full access to my neck.

My chest rises and falls rapidly, each breath deep and desperate. A wave of wetness slicks between my thighs, and I’ve never wanted someone as badly as I want him in this moment. I’ve never desired someone of my own free will before—never craved someone like this, the feeling just as foreign as it is delightfully terrifying.

The way he looks, walks, talks, touches me… it is all overwhelming, intoxicating. Like a drunk needing their next drink, I need him. He is dark and dangerous, a demon in disguise, and yet, knowing all this, I still want to dance with the devil.

Words are lost to me. He stares into my eyes with a smoldering intensity that matches my own which makes all these feelings worse, more amplified. He stops his hand on my chin again, turning my head to the side. He slowly leans down, lowering his face to my neck while he plants his leg between both of mine. He brings his knee up, so it presses against my wetness, adding pressure to the spot that is aching so badly.

His warm, wicked tongue glides along my skin from my collarbone to my ear, sending shivers cascading down my spine.

Unable to control myself, a low moan escapes my lips. Without thinking, I bring my hands up to the back of his neck and run my fingers up into his hair, while pulling him closer.

He trails his tongue back down my neck, sucking gently, while rocking his knee in just the right way. A new sensation coils in my core, one I don’t fully understand but desperately crave. His touch, his mouth, his presence—I’m on the verge of losing control.

“Luke…” I whisper his name like a prayer, a plea. Just then, a knock echoes through the room.

He pulls away slightly, his gaze smoldering, and presses a gentle kiss to my forehead. “I hope interrupting me is worth meeting the Mother—” he yells as I move out of the way, and he swings open the door.

Kylo stands there, dumbfounded, his wide-eyed stare flicking between Lukene and me. A smirk forms on his lips, and he covers it with his hand, trying to stifle his laughter.

Kylo clears his throat. “You are… uh… needed,” he says, barely containing his amusement.

Lukene huffs while rubbing his eyes. He gently grasps my hand, pressing a scolding kiss to the back of it—slow and singeing. When he pulls away his longing gaze lingers for a moment. “I’ll see you later, Reckless.” He murmurs as he stalks off down the hall, leaving me standing there, flushed and breathless.

“I thought you were taking a walk in the gardens with Lilyana?” I ask as I shut the door behind me and step into the corridor.

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