Page 44 of Sold to the Nalgar
Exquisite.
She didn’t cover herself. She simply sat, her head held high, glaring at him with the fire of someone who knew she had already lost everything and had nothing left to protect.
And that—that—was more powerful than submission.
He dragged in a slow breath, nostrils flaring as her scent rose to meet him fully, unimpeded now. His fingers twitched.
She was the most stunning thing he had ever seen. Not because of her beauty—though that was undeniable—but because of the fury, the intelligence, the absolute refusal to break.
Not yet.
He crouched before her, a predator studying its equal—not its prey.
“You burn,” he said, eyes glowing faintly red in the dim light. “Even stripped bare and brought to your knees… you burn.”
She didn’t speak. She didn’t flinch.
She only watched him with that same icy fury in her gaze, lips slightly parted, chest rising and falling with shallow breath.
And Zarokh thought…
Good.
Let her burn.
He would feel every flicker of her fire as he consumed her.
CHAPTER 21
She couldn’t believe the way he looked at her.
Like she was fire, and he meant to burn—with her.
His intensity was unbearable, a mix of restraint and self-assurance, as if he had all the time in the world to unwrap her, study her, claim her. That quiet arrogance—that certainty she would yield—made her want to scream.
It should have repulsed her.
She should have hated him.
She should have felt only terror.
Instead, her heart pounded like a warning bell.
No. Don’t do this. But her body wasn’t listening.
Her skin prickled as heat replaced the cold. His fingers brushed her: bare, deliberate, trailing like molten silk. He wasn’t rough or clumsy. Only precise. Possessive. And so gentle it made her furious.
Gentleness was the worst of it.
It meant he knew exactly how to break her.
Her throat went dry.
Those red eyes glowed against the pale shimmer of his skin, seeing everything—every shiver, every hitched breath.
She hated that her body responded.
Hated more that he knew.
