by K. Webster
“How they’re made?”
I attempt to squirm out of his hold, but he rubs his thigh against me. A zing of pleasure darts through me. Jerking my eyes to his, I look at him in confusion.
“Oh, my sweet, fragile queen. I am the Truth Seeker. You really have no idea.” He kisses my nose. “Did your father never tell you?”
All my father ever told me was of a gruesome monthly curse called The Bloods that would one day result in my birthing a child. He didn’t get into the specifics and I was forbidden to speak of such things. I never had a use for this knowledge. It wasn’t like I didn’t know a man and a woman were needed to reproduce. I heard horrors stories of rape from other villages. I understand the idea, but not quite the specifics.
“Let me enlighten you, child,” he teases, making me grumble. “When a man wants a woman, he likes to lick her cunt first.”
I shriek. “You pig! Why must you be so scandalous?”
“I love to see your face turn pink. You look alive, my queen.”
I don’t think he realizes he called me his. I certainly ignore the way his words send tremors of excitement through me.
“Then what?” I demand, eager to get on with it.
“Then you whimper like a little kitten being stroked,” he growls. His thigh rubs against me again. “Just like this. But with my tongue.”
I grip his bare bicep, reveling in the firmness of his muscle. My hips, of their own accord, move in tandem with him.
“I take you to the edge. Over and over again. I don’t let you fall.”
Closing my eyes, I understand what he means about the edge. But I want to fall. It’s so close. “Why not?” I breathe.
“It’s more satisfying to tease,” he tells me, a smile in his voice. “Because when you do finally fall, and you will, it’ll be cataclysmic.”
A whimper tumbles from my lips. “I want to fall.”
His lips press to my jaw, his hot breath tickling me. I tilt my head away because I want to feel his warmth on my neck. I’m not disappointed when his tongue tastes the flesh near my ear. It’s a glorious sensation that has my thighs squeezing around his leg.
“So responsive,” he croons, nipping at my flesh. “I love that.”
I’m completely at his mercy, and in this moment, I don’t care.
“What happens when I fall?” I ask suddenly.
“You scream my name in pleasure.”
A small giggle escapes me. I can feel his smile on my neck.
“That’s it?”
“That’s just the beginning, snowflake.”
“What happens after?”
“I slide my thick, hard cock inside your tight little hole, Elzira. I stretch you wide-open to the point you’ll probably cry. I’ll fuck you raw and then spill my seed inside of you. Then, you’ll bear my children.”
Images of children with Ryke flood my mind. I’m stunned that the idea pleases me. Before I can focus on their faces or the fact that some have white hair and some have black, he pulls me to the present, biting my neck hard. He rubs hard against my center, pushing me right off the edge he promised to keep me from until he was good and ready.
Too soon.
I wanted him to tease me more.
Explosive pleasure detonates within me, blinding me. I cry out his name, just like he told me I would, as white ecstasy steals me from this moment. My entire body shakes and my spine arches. A chill settles over me, calming me back down. When I reopen my eyes, I am shocked to see snow fluttering around us and sticking to his eyelashes. He regards me with pride gleaming in his eyes.
“There’s my weather maker,” he says, grinning. “All I had to do was rub your needy clit.”
I let out an aggravated huff that has him chuckling when the door flings open. In a flash, Ryke bolts from the bed, snagging his sword along the way, and has it aimed at the intruder.
Yashka waddles in, unfazed by Ryke’s intense power, with a tray. “The venison falls right off the bone, I assure you. No need for a giant knife, your highness.”
As his chef sets the food down, I admire Ryke. In nothing but his trousers and holding his sword, I can’t help but realize how breathtakingly gorgeous he is. His cock bulges against the fabric, an indicator of his own arousal from our activities only moments before. He wants to put that inside me.
Not Yanna.
I could convince him. He’s halfway convinced as it is. Leave her alone and have me instead. I’d be his queen in a heartbeat if it meant sparing Yanna from him.
Such a selfless move from a loving queen.
I can’t even fool myself.
Wanting Ryke is purely for my own selfish pleasure. Despite his maddening personality, I enjoy his presence. His voice. His touch. His efforts to care for me.
Ryke sets his sword down and walks over to the table where Yashka explains what’s on our menu. The stomach pains are less than they were earlier, but I still wonder how I’ll get my tonics for tomorrow. I can’t allow my sister to offer herself up to every soldier who walks by. I’ll have to leave this room and make my way to her. Perhaps I can convince Ryke. If he truly cares for me, he’ll understand my need for the tonics.
Maybe Mazon can help.
Hope unfurls inside of me like that of a budding flower in spring. I haven’t had true hope in a long time. A tenacious king and a brilliant physician could be the turning point I need. Yanna could learn from Mazon. She’s practically a physician herself. Aligning ourselves with the Volcs isn’t the worst idea. When I’d assumed I was going to die, I gave up thoughts of a future. But with Ryke, maybe there is one.
He catches my gaze over his shoulder and I smile brilliantly at him. The air cools and more snow flutters around me. His expression softens as he watches me. I wave my hand in the air and try one of my father’s tricks. A breath of air. It comes out as a small puff and then it freezes in my palm.
Yashka excuses himself.
“Elzira,” Ryke growls, stalking over to me. He holds his hand out over mine and summons his fire. The heat melts the frozen orb, causing cool water to rush down my arm.
“I did it,” I tell him triumphantly. “I haven’t been able to ever do that.”
His brows furl together as though he’s angry. “For that, I am sorry.”
“Why are you sorry? It’s not your fault.”
He takes my cold hand in his warm one. “You can do so much more than you realize.”
When I open my mouth, he shakes his head.
“No more talking. I’m going to feed you.” He grins wolfishly at me. “And then I’m going to bathe you.”
Ryke
The fire in her eyes is Volc in nature. Brilliant. Furious. Powerful. I can’t help but smile wider, knowing it’ll infuriate her more.
“You forget who you’re talking to,” she seethes, the air crackling around us as diamondblades spike from her fingers.
That’s it, snowflake.
Tap into that power and harness it. Don’t ever let it go.
“Last I checked, I was talking to a queen,” I tell her as I walk over to the table to load up a plate of food. I look over my shoulder at her. “And last I checked, I am a king. It puts us on even ground, Dead Queen.”
But she’s not dead.
Not even close.
Not anymore.
Mazon is brilliant. A master of medicine. A tool in the hands of the Truth Seeker.
“Can you stand?” I raise a brow at her.
“I don’t think so. When I have a spell, it usually takes me a few hours to recover,” she admits, shame in her pretty blue eyes.
“A spell, hmmm?” I walk over to her and set the plate on the bed beside her before sitting down. “How often do you have these spells?”
“Usually daily,” she mumbles as she shakes off the diamondblades. Her fingers pick at a buttery roll before she tears off a piece and chews on it.
“Daily. The same every day? Mazon will want to know.”
“Mostly, it’s the same. There have
been a few times that the spell was too much. I barely recovered.” She swallows and then picks at the venison. “Yashka is a wonderful cook. I haven’t tasted food this decadent in years.”
My poor, sweet queen.
“Years, yeah?”
“It’s been a while.”
“How are you feeling now?”
“Weak, but…” she trails off.
“But what?”
“I feel it.” Her blue eyes bore into me. “I feel the cold. And it doesn’t hurt like it used to.”
“I’m going to teach you a lot of things,” I murmur, lifting my thumb to run it through the juices on her bottom lip. “Your father left you so ill-equipped to lead.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “Watch your tongue, Volc.”
“You’re too soft,” I taunt. “I want to show you how to be hard.”
Leaning forward, I grip her chin and pull her mouth open. She gasps when I press my mouth to hers. I inhale her sweet scent before plunging my tongue into her mouth. She tastes savory like the venison, but the hints of sweet are all her. Pulling her to her feet, I don’t break the kiss. Her body trembles, still weak from earlier, and I hold her tight so she won’t collapse.
For an innocent, she certainly kisses like a master.
Briefly, she pulls away and whispers, “I want your promise that I can see my sister tomorrow.” She nips at my bottom lip. “Say yes, Ryke.”
I groan at her words. Maybe she’s not as innocent as she seems. The woman is using her soft lips and tongue to get her way.
“What if I say no?”
“We both want you to say yes,” she purrs.
“Why is that?”
“Because it’s part of the deal.” She breaks our kiss and regards me with blazing blue eyes. “You say yes and promise me. Then, I’ll say yes to you.”
My cock thickens at her words. “And what exactly is it I’m getting? What are you saying yes to?”
“You wanted to teach me. So teach me.”
Fantasies of her naked and riding my cock consume me. Clever, cruel queen. She’s much smarter than I gave her credit for. Playing the most ruthless king of all by way of his cock. Elzira has won this battle. I’m still strategizing for the war.
“Yes,” I vow. “You can see Yanna tomorrow. But tonight? Tonight, you’re mine.”
After our kissing and then supper, Elzira took a nap. Her body is regenerating, so I let her sleep, rather than holding her to her end of the bargain. While she napped, I checked with my men on the state of the horde from the Hidden Lands. Progressing slowly, thanks to a sudden winter storm. I’d found Green, or Cavon as they call him, and wanted to shove my fiery hand into his chest to remove all his organs one by one. Some advisor he was. Couldn’t even find her a real physician. Any physician could cure her if they were trying. It infuriates me to know that no one was trying.
Once I’m done checking on my men, I call up her servants, two heavyset women with beady eyes.
“Run a bath,” I instruct.
“The usual, sir?” the shorter one asks.
“What’s the usual?”
“The scented herbs and petals,” she replies.
“No,” I bark out, making her startle. “Water. Just water.” Then, I narrow my eyes, darting my gaze between the both of them. “You’ll sample the water after you’ve brought it up.”
She nods, though her irritation is apparent. “Of course, your highness.”
The next short while, I watch them as they bring bucket after bucket of water to fill the tub. Once it’s nice and full, I don’t let them leave.
“Taste it,” I bark out.
The women exchange looks but then kneel to scoop up the water. After sipping some down, they look at me in confusion. Since they’re not keeling over, I give them a small nod. I dip my fingers into the water to make sure it’s not too hot and jerk my hand back.
“What is this?” I roar, my chest heaving with fury.
The shorter one frowns at me. “Water, sir.”
“I should cut your tongue from your throat for that,” I snap. “Don’t sass me, woman. I want to know if you take your own baths in icy cold water.”
“It’s how it’s always been ordered for us to do, sir.”
The other woman chimes in, “Fire isn’t allowed, your highness. We draw the water from the underground wells for the queen.”
“Get out of my sight before I turn you both to ash,” I snarl.
They scurry out of the room. I’m beyond angry. I’m seconds from calling every servant in this horrible castle and beheading them all. Elzira is a good queen trapped in a cage full of monsters. They won’t get away with this.
Exhaling my fury, I stalk into the room where she sleeps. I draw back the furs and then scoop her slight frame into my arms. Her eyes flutter open in confusion, but then a small smile tugs at her lips. So beautiful.
“Time for your bath,” I remind her as I walk into the other room. I set her to her feet. She takes one look at the bath and winces. I would too if I took icy cold baths. I’m furious all over again on her behalf.
I bend over and dip my hand into the water. Summoning my fires, I swirl my hand around, heating the water to the point it steams. When I pull my hand out and look at Elzira, she’s staring in awe.
“You’ll never have to take cold baths again,” I promise, swallowing down my anger.
Her blue eyes latch on mine. “You act as though you’re going to keep me.”
A moment passes with neither of us speaking, just letting her statement hang thickly in the air.
“How are you feeling?” I demand finally, ignoring her words.
“Good enough to do this,” she replies, pointing something cold and sharp under my chin, hard enough to be threatening but not so that it breaks the skin. A devilish grin dances across her face, making her blue eyes shine bright.
I grip the sharp blade in my palm, relishing in the sting. Our eyes are locked as I melt her blade and it falls to the ground. Before I can heal my wound, she grabs my wrist, pulling it toward her. Her fingertip shocks the flesh—cold and painful—as she drags it along my cut. It glows blue as she seals it shut.
“Thanks for the hot bath.” Her face shines with happiness. Joy. Hope. Life. How dare those who ever tried to keep this powerful queen weak and on her knees. She was meant to stand above all men, including myself.
I tug at the bindings on either side of her ribs. It loosens her dress enough that I can pull it away from her body some. With my eyes on hers, I hook my finger into the top of the material and summon my fires. As I drag my finger down, I tear through the fabric, burning it. Her dress falls away, revealing a naked queen before me. My palms find her bare ribs and I bite back a growl. Her ribs protrude in a sick way.
So close to death, my queen.
You simply needed a dark king to bring you back to life.
Tearing my stare from hers, I go back to admiring her body. Her breasts are more than a nice handful. Hard, peaked pink nipples beg to be bitten and sucked on. I especially salivate over her pale, white skin. I want to suck on every inch of her until she’s pink and red and purple all over—a testament that blood still flows through this ravishing woman. Between her slender thighs is a thatch of blond hair, so light, it’s nearly opaque.
My cock strains in my trousers. I want to do so many wicked things to her. A man can’t be given a perfect canvas and not be expected to splatter color all over it. Offering my arm to her, I help her into the tub. The moment her foot sinks into the warm waters, she lets out a rush of air.
“Too hot?” I ask, frowning.
Her blue eyes find mine, flickering with a hidden emotion. “Perfect.”
She steps her other foot into the tub, turning away from me. My stare slides down the bones in her spine that are visible to the nice swell of her ass. It’s as though she’s been made of porcelain. Exquisite, but fragile.
Not for long.
The queen is coming back to life.
; I’ll see to it that she’s as powerful as she was born to be.
Why?
Because I’m a king and I don’t take company with those who are weak.
She sits in the water and lets out a soft moan of pleasure. My cock jolts, reminding me of our deal. I’ll take her to her sister tomorrow, but in the meantime, I can ravish this woman.
I’m not sure why people always assume making a deal with the devil is a bad thing. This devil makes good deals. Deals where both parties involved are winners.
I walk over to a basket in the corner of the room that’s filled with soaps. After inspecting them all, I find one that smells and looks familiar. When Elzira sees it, she scrunches her nose up in distaste.
“There are others that smell better,” she tells me snootily, as though I’m her servant.
“Perhaps,” I bite out as I kneel beside the tub, “but this is the only one I am familiar with. I want to make sure I wash you with something safe.”
A smile tugs at her lips. “For a mad, bossy king, you’re sometimes sweet.”
“And for a cold-hearted queen, you’re awfully hot.”
Her laughter is angelic. The sounds are like diamondblades to my heart, each one piercing and deadly. This woman has power over me—power I didn’t even know existed in this world. Making a powerful man like myself feel powerless is a very dangerous move.
I dip the soap into the water and then run it along her thigh. Her eyes lock with mine, flaring with lust. I groan at the way my cock strains to be released. Instead, I focus on slowly washing her in a teasing way that has her writhing, splashing warm water over the sides.
“Ryke,” she whispers.
Deliberately, I brush against her cunt with my knuckle. She cries out and then I’m no longer able to move my arm.
A burst of cold air rushes up my arm, chilling me. I bite back a chuckle. In her excitement, she froze the water solid. Her bright blue eyes nearly glow as she gapes at me.
With a sly grin, I summon my fires and melt the ice until steam is once again clouding the air around us. “You haven’t used your gift in some time. You’ll want to get a handle on that.” I smirk at her. “Tonight, I plan to do a lot more than graze your cunt with my finger. I can’t have you turning me into a block of ice the moment you come, crying out my name.”