Page 69 of Stormbinder King
One side of his mouth twitched up in a twisted parody of a smile. But I knew his fucking stone heart wasn’t even capable of it. “It wouldn’t matter how far you made it. I would not stop hunting until I found you.”
My fingers felt like they were on fire, flexing and releasing. A restless, frenetic energy was building up inside me.
The stew sat between us, steam rising gently up from the bowl.
“I apologize,” Symeon said suddenly, his voice stiff and cold.
“You’reapologizing?”
The big Alpha’s jaw clamped down hard.
“Yes. I am sorry for how I have behaved. You are not from our lands, you do not know our ways. I should not have been so angry when I came back and found you with my brother.”
I stared disbelievingly at him.
“You must be joking if you think I could ever forgive you. You’ve called me a slut, a dirty whore for his cock ever since you met me.”
“I was—angry at you for denying our mate connection,” Symeon said. “I should have been patient with you and convinced you we were fated mates.”
Suddenly, he bent forward so he was on his knees in front of me.
“I apologize as a King and your mate. Once I can figure out how to break this ensorcellment, I will claim you as my Luna, my Alpha Queen.”
“I don’t want that,” I bit out.
My fingers were hot to the touch now, my cheeks flaming.
Maybe I was getting sick.
“My behavior was wrong,” Symeon said, his dark brows drawing ferociously together. “Once I break your link to my brother we can work on strengthening our mate connection.”
Furious fucking fury filled me, that he would dare to think he could be forgiven.
“We don’t have a godsdamn mate connection,” I said, flipping the bowl of stew on the ground and stalking away from him.
“Andromeda—” the King growled, and I heard him get up from his knees and follow me.
And then Jack was blocking my path.
His eyes were gleaming.
“My poor brother, angry that he can’t have you.”
He drew me out into the center of the clearing where other shifters were dancing to the low, rhythmic beat of a boar-skin drum.
Smirking, he pulled me into the dance, one hand under my hair, the other running down my arm, humming as his fingers skimmed by my tattoo.
“He wants, he craves, but he cannot have.”
The prince gripped my hair tight, bending down to kiss my throat.
I could see Symeon behind Jack, sitting in front of a heavy table, but he wasn’t looking at the food at all.
Only me.
And then Jack moved to the other side of my throat, moving my hair so he could kiss me.
And he saw it.
