Page 53 of King Elijah (The Zemiran Chronicles 2)

Elijah glanced around the room again, ignoring the old man. He spotted wet patches of water on the carpet leading to the backroom. Near the corner was the black scarf Janelle had been wearing.

“Sorry, I’m late to meet my wife. She should have our room ready. White hair, blue eyes?”

The man perked up. “Oh, not sure if she has white hair. She wore a head wrap around her head, but I can’t forget those bright blue eyes and crimson lips.”

Elijah placed his bag on the floor. “That’s my love,” he said. “Is she already settled in our room?”

The man’s features dropped. “Um, she—” He scratched his head and swallowed. “She didn’t say she had a husband coming. What . . . what did you say your name was—”

Elijah’s hand came out, using his powers to grip the old man’s throat. The black smoke thickened until it squeezed hard enough to make the man quickly pass out. Then, Elijah checked to ensure he hadn’t killed him once he laid on the floor—his heart was still beating.

He walked quickly to the front door and latched the bolt. His eyes moved up the stairs and waited. Silence.

Slowly, he continued up the stairs, then crept down the hall on his toes, placing an ear against each door, listening. He carefully put his ear up to hear at the last door on the left. A slight creak on the floor gave her away. Elijah placed his hand on the knob and turned it slowly, but it was locked.

A wry smile flitted across his face before he stepped back. Then, he rammed his foot into the door, breaking off its hinges.

Janelle leapt for her sword, but Elijah kicked it away and wrapped his strong arms around her waist, pulling her back into his chest, then squeezed.

Placing his lips next to her ear, he whispered. “Little elf, why do you insist on being so difficult when I’m only trying to help you?”

Elijah waited for the answer, but her elbow came back instead, slamming into his stomach. He winced, releasing her, but only for a moment before his hand reached out and gripped her ankle when she attempted to flee again for her weapon. He pulled back, tossing her to the ground.

He straddled her thrashing body, pinning her to the ground and squeezing his knees tightly together. As she attempted to wrench herself free from his grip, he grabbed her wrists and pinned them above her head.

“Are you enjoying this?” he teased, looking down at her with a grin on his lips. “You’re not putting up much of a fight.”

She flashed him a mocking, angry grin, but it only amused him.

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” she said. “Using your strength to gain power over a woman,” she said. “I thought the King of Zemira was above taking a woman down against her will?”

He released one of his hands and placed it against her chest, pinning her down. Her eyes widened.

“Careful, Janelle. I suggest you stop fighting this,” he said, letting a dangerous edge creep into his voice. Genuine fear sparked in her eyes. A plague of guilt washed over him as her body went slack, no longer resisting.

Her lips parted.

“Are you going to hit me now? Kill me?” she said, a tear welling in her eye. “I dare you to try.”

He squeezed her bound wrists.

“Don’t threaten my power, Janelle, unless you’d like to get intimately acquainted with the powers my mother gave me.” His magic slowly left his fingers, clouding around them. “Are you done?” he asked, trying once again to keep her still, but he couldn’t turn his gaze from her.

Even when his body was filled with rage, the sight of her stunned him.

“I don’t want your help to save my brother. You’d be nothing, if not completely useless.” She snarled, and Elijah’s lip twitched. He wanted to be angry and punish her for knocking him unconscious and leaving him at the bottom of the mountain all night. Show her how much he ached when she left him. All he could do was stare down at her, dumbfounded by how much she affected him. She made him grow mad with need—a feeling he hadn’t expected.

“I cannot protect you when you’re not near me,” he said.

The room grew silent.

Elijah’s lips parted as they stared into each other’s eyes in agonizing stillness until her body went slack under his pressure. His gaze drew to the hollow at the base of her neck. He watched her chest rise and fall with just the barest flutter of her pulse visible. He felt his heart rate quicken the more he stared.

“Perhaps Kieran was right,” she said in a soft voice. She sounded defeated, and Elijah briefly regretted the part he must have played in that. “You should have never been a king, and I will curse myself until my very last breath that I wasn’t strong enough to kill you when—”

Elijah pulled her into him, crushing his mouth against her lips, tongues meeting in an aggressive assault of taste and feel. He released her wrists, bringing one hand to grip her jaw and direct the kiss, even while the other wound itself in her long, wild hair. He grabbed her thigh to arch her up into him and tugged hard, swallowing the gasp she let out as he kissed her. Every inch of him was strung tight with desire. Every inch of him was hungry. He pressed himself into her, letting Janelle’s moans vibrate through his mouth as he kissed her with untamed desperation. The ache between his legs spurred him on further. All he could think about was his need to bury himself in every part of her lush, supple body.

Gods, he wanted her.

---