Page 27 of A Reign of Malice
I force a smile to my lips. “I know. But once our guests arrive tonight and the ceremony is complete, things will settle.”
His expression softens into something dangerously close to affection, and that’s what unnerves me most. He truly believes that I’m his prize, his queen, his perfect pawn.
He catches the fabric of my flowing green dress, tuggingme closer until his breath fans across my cheek. “We have right now, don’t we?”
My wolf lunges forward, and it takes everything in me to hold her back.
I press a hand to his chest, keeping my voice low and teasing. “Did you see how close I came to ripping your throat out just now? I need to run, Aeson. To burn off the edge before I snap at the wrong person.”
His lower lip juts out in an exaggerated pout. “I could give you a better workout.”
Don’t throw up on him, Sloane.
His grip tightens possessively on my waist as he nips at the sensitive skin just below my jaw. “My patience will only last so long, Sloane,” he warns, his voice a breathy growl. “I hope you don’t intend to keep teasing me.”
I smile sweetly, even as dread coils like a serpent in my gut. “Of course not.”
Finally, he releases me, stepping back with a satisfied smirk. Light spills into the room as he unlocks the door, and I realize we’re in one of the smaller, unused offices off the main corridor.
“Sloane,” he calls as I step into the hall, my heart already racing toward freedom.
I glance back, finding his expression wiped clean of charm, replaced by something colder. Emptier.
“I know you like running things your way,” he says, voice measured. “But you’re going to have to start giving more. After everything I’ve done for you, I expect a little more…appreciation. Do you understand?”
I swallow hard, my wolf growling in protest. “Of course, King Aeson.”
He nods, satisfied. “Good.” A pause. “I’ll be unavailable this afternoon. Make sure you’re dressed properly beforeour guests arrive. You should wear something fitting for the future Queen of Venaris.” His gaze flickers over my simple silk dress, disdain curling at the corner of his mouth. “I’ll have my choices laid out for you on your bed before I go.”
On my bed.
My heart stutters. He’s going into my room.
The room where I’ve hidden the bloodied shirt. Wrapped in plastic, drenched in perfume, stuffed between the mattresses, but still hiddeninmyroom.
I force my lips into a tight smile. “That’s really not?—”
“I insist.” His smirk grows, smug satisfaction oozing from every word. “Enjoy your run, my queen.”
Like hell that’s happening now.
He’s not giving me space. He’s hunting.
And if he finds what I’ve hidden, this game will be over before I’ve made my first real move.
Turning on my heel, I head outside as if his invasion of my privacy means nothing. As if the idea of him choosing my wardrobe is even remotely acceptable.
My fingers twitch with the urge to reach for my wolf, to let her tear through him and end this twisted game. But I force myself to walk—calm, composed, the picture of an obedient queen-to-be.
“Clara, I need you to run to my room and get the shirt,”I command through our mental link.“And move faster than you ever have. You might only have seconds.”
“On it.”
Her reply is swift, and I feign joy and confidence to the people of the kingdom as I walk through the castle grounds toward the forest. I know this could go wrong, that I’ve just put my best friend in grave danger.
As the seconds tick by, my pace falters. I should turnback. Should’ve pretended to forget something and returned to my room myself.
Clara is more than an advisor. More than a friend. She’s family. If anything happens to her…
