Page 6 of A Kingdom of Death & Darkness
“I don’t know what your game is. I don’t know what you’re playing at, but I do know you lied to Christian: You’re not my kin.”
“Oh, really?” He smirks. “And how did you come to that conclusion, Crymson?”
“Because not a single thing about me is reflected in you. Your features, your arrogance, your entire fucking persona, it’s revolting. And it isn’t me.”
His cocky smile falters just slightly but he looks away, choosing to peer out at the rolling hills for a long silent moment.
“Raffillia will be in to assist you. Get dressed.” With a sigh, he walks away, striding through the door and not looking my way as he retreats.
“You can’t tell me what to do!” I scream at his retreating form.
Like. A literal. Child.
Fuck.
FOUR
Crymson
I thinkit’s the gown that’s triggering me so hard. He ripped me away from the men I love and brought me to his home. Laid me in this bed...
And now I’m wearing a fine gown of his choosing.
“It’s a very fine color, ma’am,” the pretty fae girl, Raffillia, says.
My gaze flits down to the red lace that hugs my chest, flowing down to a boned corset that flares out with a high slit that feels entirely sexier than it should. Flashes of memories of firm hands gripping pretty green fabric, pushing up my thighs until the feel of their touch against my skin shivers all through my body.
I swallow slowly.
“It is,” I agree stiffly.
I hate that it’s a fucking gorgeous designer dress that most girls would sob their eyes out to even own.
But it’s his. And therefore, I despise the way it gives me curves where I normally have none. I hate that it makes me look like a bad bitch in every single way.
It’s terrible. The worst.
I love it.
“Are you—” His rumbling words halt the moment his eyes lock on mine. He stands awkwardly in the doorway, and even the thought of him being speechless is too much for me to stand.
“What?” I wait for him to finish his never-ending thoughts.
His gaze flits away from me but comes right back. It’s the look in his eyes; it’s telling. I know he isn’t my dear sweet kin like he told Christian he was.
And the lie only grows more reckless when his gaze lingers on my body like it does now.
“What?” I bark again, my hands flinging up with impatience crawling through my body.
His throat clears harshly and that smooth arrogance slips back over his face like a mask he’ll never throw away. He smiles, only one side of his full lips pulling up at the corner.
“Seven. I wanted to take you to see your friend.”
I blink at that. It’s a kindness from the Thorn King. A murderer I remember them describing him as...
He’s still an asshole I’ll never trust. But he’s a kind asshole, apparently.
I nod quietly, unable to think of a rational response that wouldn’t end with me calling him petty names.
