Page 19 of The Stolen Throne

A knock on the door makes me flinch; I forgot we had an audience. “Her screams were quite delicious boys. I appreciate the show, but I must be on my way. Hearing her screams makes me hunger for my toys back home.”

Silence settles around us as we listen to the king’s retreating footsteps. The quiet becomes a bit suffocating, so I ask awkwardly, “Can I change now? Although maybe I should ask if I’m allowed to get dressed, considering you cut my outfit off?”

Dax chuckles, and he offers me a hand. The hands holding me down release, and I reach for his offered hand. “Why don’t you enjoy a bath as well. I’ll make sure one of the men brings up some balm for your cuts.”

He pulls me to stand, and I peer down at myself to find that every cut the king had previously made has now been reopened by Dax. I nod as my eyes meet his. “I would appreciate that.”

He presses a kiss to my knuckles before releasing them. With a nod to the door, he says, “Off you go, Little Raven.”

It takes every ounce of self-control I possess not to run out of that room. I don’t know if what Bene said is true, but I don’t want to chance it. The last thing I need is for them to chase me around the castle while I’m naked because I triggered their darkness to take over.

I also can’t forget that these men are still the villains. Mild compared to the king maybe, but villains, nonetheless. Still, they are the enemy, and the enemy of my enemy is my friend. Right?

Why is it getting harder to say that and even harder to believe it? It’s beginning to taste a lot like a lie.

12

DAX

Afew weeks have passed since my father’s visit, and I've noticed how Eira looks at the others. She watches us with hunger in her eyes but refuses to satiate it. I even catch her looking at Kas with lust filled eyes, which makes me grin, considering how much they appear to hate each other. I’ve heard that hate sex is the best, though. When you are always surrounded by men, sex seems to be the only thing that’s talked about. Though I’m surrounded by warriors who spend most of their days fighting, and because we don’t have an abundance of women, things tend to get a little… hard.

If I said a burst of jealousy didn't spark within me when I saw her mahogany eyes raking over my men, it would be a lie. Well, the six men I’m soul bound to. Though Ash, Kas, Rev, Alair, Bene, and Mir are mine to lead and command. My brothers. Soul bound until our dying breaths because of the curse. But also because of the battles we have fought. It’s hard not to bond with a man you spend every waking moment of the day with, let alone six.

I see the way they look at her, want and hunger burning behind their eyes. Though I feel the need to claim her as mine and mine alone. But I know she is theirs as well. The only one I’ve spoken to about this is Rev, and even he seemed skeptical about the connection I swear we have with her. Soon they will realize that she belongs to us just as much as we belong to her. I am a possessive bastard, so she will only ever belong to us. No one else.

Her dark eyes are focused on me as my soldiers’ spar around us. Her eyes never leave mine as I walk between the bodies, making my way over to her. As I weave between the men, I hold her gaze. Like a game of cat and mouse, or better yet, a dangerous snake that wishes to ensnare a flightless raven.

Ash is working to correct the newer soldiers’ forms, while Kas glares from the sidelines. Alair and Bene watch the surrounding area, continuously scanning for threats as they were trained to do. Ensuring we have no soldiers who belong to my father within our ranks. Rev and Mir keep their eyes on me as I walk over to Eira, always making sure I’m not attacked by a rogue that has managed to slip through the watchful eyes of Alair and Bene.

I know what Eira thinks of me. She believes me to be a villain, a horrid prince who kills without mercy. Part of that may be true. I do kill my enemies without mercy. My father is cruel and ruthless in his rule, which in turn made me savage because it was the only way to survive. I kill because it is required of me. This is a wicked world we live in. I am far less sadistic than my father, so she should take my cruelty for what it is. Safety from those who would wish to do much worse than I.

I protect what is mine. She will learn that lesson soon. So until then, I will continue my game. A game to hunt and capture the bird. My little raven. I smirk as I notice her eyes continue to track me. “What are you doing, Little Raven?”

She arches a brow. “Why do you insist on calling me that?”

I point at her hair and say, “Your hair is as dark as a raven's wings. It even has magic that looks as if it changes color when the light shines just right. Plus, I find that you are a bird trying to spread her wings to fly.”

She rolls her eyes. “Just because I let your friend fuck me with his fingers and you replaced his scars with your own, doesn’t mean we are friends. We are not even acquaintances. Do not give me a pet name as if we are such things. As if you enjoy my company.”

I can see she struggles with each word she forces out. She doesn’t believe what she’s saying but feels as if she should say it anyway. I laugh. “Oh, I enjoy your company very much. I would even go as far as to say that my men also enjoy your company. I did say that you have beguiled them.”

Her eyes narrow on me. “I have not beguiled your men. Also, I do not care what you or your men think of me.”

“I believe that to be a lie, Little Raven.”

She lets out a frustrated screech and runs at me. Rev and Mir stand, ready to rush in my direction until I hold up a hand to stop them. I allow her to jump at me as I throw my weight backward, then let myself fall while I grin at her.

She bares her teeth at me as something sharp and cold is pressed against my throat. I assume it's the dagger she has been hiding this whole time. I knew she had it. The others wanted to take it from her, but I knew she only felt at ease in the castle because she had a weapon. Though, for her to go so far as to hold it to my neck... Well, it seems my little raven has talons. Seems she’s a bit frazzled as well if the wild look in her eyes is any indication. She feels things she doesn’t want to. She’s beginning to care, and that terrifies her.

She snarls and snaps, “Why are you smiling when I have a blade to your throat?”

“Do you think this is the first time someone has held a blade to my throat?” I chuckle and ask, “Do you plan to kill me, Little Raven?”

Her eyes narrow as she growls out, “I have a knife to your neck, Dax. Are you not going to beg for your life?”

She’s trying really hard to grasp for her anger, but I see the hesitation behind those mahogany eyes. While holding her gaze, I retort, “I do not beg for much in this life, let alone my life. I’ve learned a hard lesson in begging, my Little Raven, and I learned it well.” I arch a brow as I continue, “So I will not beg. I will not beg for the lives of my people. Lives are lost every day, and that is out of my control. If my life is worth that much to you, then you may take it if you wish. I am a villain after all.”

“Such a brave prince,” she scoffs. “What would you beg for?”

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