Page 30 of Kneel with the King
He exhales, satisfied. Like I proved some sort of theory. His pupils darken, and the tip of his tongue brushes over his lower lip. Something like pride flashes in his eyes, and it takes a lot of effort not to preen at feeling like I’m somehow doing a good job at whatever the fuck this is.
“If I tell you tokiss me, you kiss me. If I tell you tolaugh, you laugh. If I tell you tobeg…” He leans forward, just enough, voice dropping a register. “…you will beg.”
I hate him.
I hate how still he is. What a fucking puppet. Does anything ever ruffle his feathers?
Most of all, though, I hate that part of me—some dark, buried part—doesn’t want to move until I’m given permission.
“Good boy,” he says, like I answered a question I never heard. “You did very well, Harrison. Now we’re getting somewhere.”
Everything inside me heats at the praise.
He studies me for a long moment.
Then he kneels, suddenly, gracefully, so we’re eye to eye. “You don’t remember me, do you?” he asks quietly.
My chest tightens. “What?”
He tilts his head, just slightly. Something like hurt flashes across his expression, but it’s gone before I can really tell.
“No. You wouldn’t. That would ruin the fun.”
I blink. “What the hell are you?—”
“You’ll remember soon enough,” he says, rising again. “And when you do, I want you to think back to this moment—on your knees, letting me give the orders. Because that’s when everything started to shift.”
He steps away. “Get some food, shower, and meet me in the lobby when you’re done.”
Anger flashes through me. “I don’t know my way back,” I grit out.
He tilts his head, studying me. “You’ll figure it out.”
I don’t move.Can’t.
He turns and walks away, his boots crunching in the snow of the forest floor.
My knees ache. My fingers are numb. But it’s what he said that lingers.
“You don’t remember me, do you?”
I grit my teeth, standing slowly, one joint at a time. The forest is silent around me, but my brain won’t shut up.
What the hell am I supposed to remember?
I don’t have an answer.
But I have a feeling I’m not going to like it when I do.
King of Nothing
King
Ten YearsAgo
“Hey, Glasses. Can you get me another drink?”
Gritting my jaw, I reach my hand out and take the empty glass from Kevin, our senior manager.
