Page 58 of Wicked Prince of Carnage
“Good. I have another matter,” he purred, moistening his lower lip with the tip of his tongue.
“How may I be at your service?” Sterling asked, her fingers itching for a bow and arrow that was nowhere to be found. Only in her desperate imagination.
“Did my son satisfy you properly?” His gaze roamed across her body as it had the night before.
Sterling dug her fingers into her thighs before she used them to pierce his eyes. “Better than any lover ever could.” Winter may have been a virgin, but he knew how to please.
Valco trailed a finger down Sterling’s arm and she held back a shudder. “Just because you’re mated to my son doesn’t mean you can’t fuck your king.”
Sterling’s breath hitched, silence reigning inside her mouth.
“The prince was a pitiful lover last night, making you perform all the work.” His finger skimmed up Sterling’s neck to her jawline. “I’ll bend you over my desk right now and show you what it’s like to be fucked well.”
Sterling’s pulse raced as dread filled her. Was this what Valco had done with Talia? Lured her in as bait to use against his son? How she wished harder for a bow, to send an arrow straight into his throat.
He was so much larger than her… How would she escape this situation if he insisted?
Sterling squared her shoulders and stepped away from the king’s revolting touch. “I apologize, Your Majesty, but I’m true to Prince Winter.”
The king smiled wide—a cruel expression that reached his eyes. “Wrong answer. You should’ve begged for my cock, Sterling. The way your grandmother did.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
WINTER
Winter hadn’t wanted to depart his manor without Sterling, leaving her safety up to someone else, but he couldn’t deny a royal summons. His father had outlined the journey the prince and his new mate would take. Endearing the people to the royals—specifically the king—would be an impossible feat.
After years of making a name for himself as ruthless and cruel, he was expected to convince everyone he was the opposite. Fucking impossible. Was hesupposedto fail?
He climbed from the river where he’d been swimming off his anger and pulled his tunic over his wet skin. The fabric clung to him, furthering his annoyance.
“Your Highness?”
Winter scowled up at the juvenile wolf—one of the cook’s children if he remembered correctly—and the boy winced. “What?” he snapped.
“You asked to be told when your mate returned.”
He glanced up at the setting sun. “She’s just now returning?”
“Well,” the juvenile stammered. “She returned a few minutes ago, but no one could find you.”
Winter ran a hand through his dripping hair and released a sigh. At least she made it back all right and hadn’t tried to run off with her brother. If she had second thoughts about their mating, it would’ve been the perfect time to escape.
“I’ll return to my room then. Have a late supper brought up for us both.” He stepped around the youth.
“She’s … not in your room.”
Winter halted in his tracks. “What do you mean she’s not there? I gave precise instructions that she not leave once she returned and to have Lijah outside the door.”
“The—” He shuffled back a step. “The king summoned her to his bedchamber.”
Panic struck Winter’s chest, gripping his heart like a steel trap. What did his father want with Sterling? And in his chambers, no less.Nothing good.“Fucking letch,” the prince thundered, and raced toward the castle.
He stalked through the front door, past guards, servants, and other pack members, straight to his father’s rooms. Caston stood outside the bedchamber, and, as he approached, he cast Winter a nervous look.
A low, dangerous sound rumbled up Winter’s throat, daring the pathetic man to stop him, as he stormed into the room. Time seemed to stand still when he took in the scene before him. His father with his hand fisted in Sterling’s hair, her head forcibly tilted. His mate on her knees.
“What the fuck are you doing?” he growled.
