Page 141 of The Spark that Ignites
“You should know, Emmery,” he said, her name on his lips making her squirm. He spoke slowly, a sinful bass to his tone, like the words he said were innuendo for the temptations hiding beneath them. He leaned closer—close enough for a split-second Emmery’s eyes fell shut. “Don’t mistake my decency for weakness. I don’t beg. I don’t grovel. And I certainly don’t fall to my knees for anyone. I get what I desire and deal accordingly with those who stand in my way.” He left those statements in the fraction of space between them, each sinking into her flesh,bones, and mind. “Do you want to be someone who challenges me, or gains my alliance?”
“You’ve underestimated my stubbornness. I can’t be easily swayed,” she said carefully. Lost in his dark stare, Emmery’s heart hammered. His eyes truly were wholly black. Depthless. A thick fan of lashes sheltered them.
“I think you’ll find,” he breathed, his tone holding the promise of wicked things. “I can be very ...persuasive.”
Emmery swallowed hard, her cheeks heating as she unravelled his words. What had he said that day in Malheim about the language of seduction? About teaching her? He was surely insane. Hehadto be.
But their mingled breath brushed her lips and his eyes hooded, the desire in the air between them palpable. Her entire body flushed in response, her pulse suddenly pounding everywhere. What in the world was happening?
Brennen’s nails clicked along the floor as he approached the table, and she nearly leapt out of her skin.
What did it look like he walked in on? Emmery could barely breathe, but she refused to be the first to pull away. She refused to lose this game.
The wolf waited patiently for the King’s notice.
Throat working, Destonne’s eyes traced the lines of her face, birthmark, resting on her lips, seemingly fascinated by them. His jaw clenched, a muscle feathering in it. “Can’t you see I’m busy,Brennen.”
The wolf’s voice echoed through Emmery’s head the moment the King’s eyes widened.
“Prince Vesper is here to see you.”
Chapter Fifty
As Destonne groaned low in his throat and retreated, leaving only heat and unexplained tautness in the air between them, a victorious smile crept onto Emmery’s lips.
Rising from the table, he said, “I’m assuming it’s about our lovely guest.” Destonne brushed past Brennen and threw over his shoulder at Emmery. “Are you coming?”
She hesitated and gripped the chair’s armrests. Did she want to see Vesper knowing how he had sold her off? After the full sting of his betrayal?
Yet, heart in her throat, she rose from the table. They led her down several cold, echoing stairwells, the walls entirely bare of decor. The King and wolf were dark misshapen shadows lurking among the puzzlingly white palace. They held a conversation she only heard one side of.
“Yes, I know.” Destonne winked at Emmery over his shoulder.
A long, hot sigh. “What would you like me to do about it, Bren?”
“She is.” A pause and brief glance at Emmery followed by a twitch of his lips. “Yes, she is.”
They entered a cavernous room with no furniture but a long red carpet leading to the door and a white throne with an emblem painted in bright red on the massive back rest: a lion with long fangs roaring at the sun.
While Destonne plopped himself on the throne, he gestured for Emmery to join him. Guards dressed in impeccable silver armour flanked each side and lined the ivory carpet. She gingerly stepped forward, stopping an arm’s reach from the throne.
“I would offer you a seat but we only have the one. Though I don’t mind sharing if you don’t.” His eyes slid to her, full of mischief.
Her cheeks reddened. “I’d rather set myself on fire.”
“Suit yourself.” A hint of a smile almost grazed his lips. “The invitation is open.”
She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction but couldn't staunch the heat creeping up her neck. He certainly noticed her flush. And she was surely only here to taunt Vesper anyway.
Destonne nodded at the door. “Let him in.”
Brennen clamped his jaws around the handle and pulled, only for Vesper to burst through. Jumping back to avoid the swinging door, Brennen rolled his orange eyes.
Between his wild stare, crumpled clothes, and dishevelled hair, Vesper looked horrendous. He kept his attention locked on the King as he stalked forward. Brennen growled and joined Emmery, brushing up against her leg as he sat. A silent promise to step in if things went poorly.
Clearing his throat, Destonne started, “Vesper. Good to see you.”
“Save it,” Vesper growled. “Why do I still have this bloody thing?” He ripped off his glove and flashed the lion pactum. “Our deal isdone.”
