Page 21 of The King is Dead
The climax hit like a boulder bouncing off a hill, tumbling me, pummeling me, stealing my air, turning me so I didn’t know up from down. Then leaving me at the bottom of the cliff… depleted.
Exhausted.
And still fucking needy for her.
I didn’t know how it was possible, how she had dug her talons so deep. But her torment was perfect. Utterly irresistible.
I could accept pain.
Butneed?
God help me, I was going to give in.
~ YILAN ~
I lay in bed, staring at the dark ceiling, itching, and restless.
I could feel him. I wanted him. And he wanted me.
It was torture.
The afternoon with Gall had been such a joy. We were still uncertain how this would go. But Istral was bubbling, and Gall was transfixed. The real problem wasn’t him. It was Melek.
Melek who had screamed at me to leave.
Melek who suspected my every word and intention.
Melek who thought I was playing with his mind, and Iwasn’t.
I wanted to weep every time I thought of him. I wanted to leave my rooms and go to him. I wanted to throw that cell open and tell him to do his worst, and I’d pray that he’d take me rather than kill me.
But I knew the moment I did, my people would killhim.
I needed to tell them.Allof them. But I couldn’t. Not unless Melek claimed the bond. They would crown him as soon as they heard, whether he wanted it or not.
There was a flash in my head of Turo’s face, hard and confused, angry. I had caught him watching me more than once this evening. But he didn’t speak, and he didn’t defy me.
I could feel the tension ticking tighter and tighter every hour.
Even more than the others, he needed to understand.
Iwantedto tell him. But deep down I knew if I pushed Melek on one more thing, it would tip him over the edge. I had to give him time tochoosethe crown, or it would forever be a burden that I placed on his shoulders.
And so, I laid in bed in my nightdress, feeling a little bit cold, afraid, and lonely.
And then I felt him. I felt the warm power of him shifting in my chest.
My instincts perked, and my senses prickled. What was he—
A surge of desire, of need, sang in the bond and stopped my breath. My heart thumped. I gripped the bed furs as the ache began again, low in my belly.
“No,” I breathed into the dark.
I could feel him, feel his desire growing and his ache being fed, which only brought images to mind of the barrel of his chest, those thick coils of muscles on his arms and shoulders, and that tendon on his neck that I had tasted, nipped.
Wantclangedthrough me and my heart rate tripped up another notch. My breathing was shallow and sharp, audible in the silent room. Desire became so acute, ithurt.And yet, my body roared higher, tighter.
It was too much. Too painful to want so deeply and be denied. Too frightening to watch it torn from my fingers. But just as I screwed up my face and a sob made my body shake, I punched a hand into the mattress, clawing my fingers into it and pushing myself up.
