Lord King (The King)

“Yes, you do mean to pry. And yes, I have plenty of money. I’m not a fan of wasting time paying for things that mean nothing to me.”

“Those things mean something to the people you’re taking from.”

“Those people will be dead in ten, twenty, fifty years. And trust me, I’ve witnessed enough people dying to tell you they won’t give a fuck about their things when their time is up.”

“No?” I wasn’t arguing with that statement, but I did wonder what he thought they gave fucks about. “What will they be thinking about?”

He kept his eyes glued to his phone, typing away with his thick thumbs and strong hands. Even his fingers looked like they spent time at the gym. Or in battle.

“Time,” he replied bluntly, disinterested in the conversation. “They all wish they had more time. Which is why I don’t waste mine on shit that doesn’t matter.”

Interesting philosophy. “So where do you plan to raise this child you want me to have if you don’t believe in taking the time to own things?” A purely hypothetical question because I wasn’t planning to let him anywhere near me. Yes, we had a deal, but I’d find a way out of it. King would know how—something to barter for or…whatever.

“Not child. Children,” he corrected. “And you do not have to worry about that. I will ensure you want for nothing.”

Children? I blinked, feeling my pulse race. I definitely had to make sure King was rescued and got me out of this.

Noticing my silence, Ansin finally looked up. “Did you think I planned for my offspring and you to live in a cardboard box?”

“I have no idea what to expect from you, Ansin. You’re nothing like I imagined.”

His black and gold eyes flickered. “Did you imagine I’d be like that dainty, pompous King of yours?”

“He’s not mine.”

“But you want him to be, don’t you?”

I said nothing.

“Don’t worry, little treasure, nothin’ worse than being thirsty. I get it. And you’re in luck, because I’ll never ask you to thirst for me. I just want you as my wife and to give me children.”

“How romantic.”

“If you want romance, I’ll buy you a book. Just remember our deal. I save your precious King, and then you’re mine.”

I swallowed hard, thinking about what Ansin might do when he found out my body was already in use by King’s baby. I had to be prepared to protect Ariadna. But how?

Focus on getting King free first. I didn’t know what went wrong or how this Sage woman had subdued King, but I knew it took a lot to blindside someone like him.

“Are you afraid of this Sage person?” I asked.

Ansin cocked a black brow and gave me a look, like he was wondering if I was a moron.

“I’ll take that as a no. And you can remove the stick from your ass. It was just a question.” Everyone was afraid of something. If I got lucky, I’d find out Ansin’s weaknesses.

“I have a healthy respect for Sage and the powers she’s amassed,” he said. “So while I do not fear her, I’m no fool either. I’d prefer not to end up tied to a bed, having my organs ripped out.”

“So what’s your plan?”

“Do not worry, little treasure. I will keep you safe.” He flashed that wicked smile.

I was learning fast. It was his only smile.

“Why bring me along, then, if I’m not going to help?”

“I want you to see when I’ve kept my word.”

I doubted that was the reason. Ansin was all about power. He probably wanted me to witness how he operated so I’d have a healthy fear of him. Power over me. That’s what he wants. Strange because he could make me do whatever he wanted. So why didn’t he?

He went back to his phone, and I spent the remaining few minutes of the flight trying to stay calm. For a second, I was tempted to try my gift again to see what we were in for at this castle, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Not after that bloodbath I’d witnessed in my vision. Whatever awaited us wouldn’t be good.

“A chauffeured car?” I stared at the man in a suit, holding a sign that read Ansin Bastuli.

“I do not enjoy driving on the opposite side of the road.” Ansin shrugged and shoved a paper bag in my hands. “It’s a ham and cheese sandwich and some juice.”

I hadn’t even seen him grab it. “Thanks.”

“You can eat in the car.”

Of course, because Ansin hated wasting time. The strange part about him was that when he spoke, his words were carefully chosen. Never rushed. Similar to King. When Ansin moved his body or walked, he exuded the same vibe. Controlled. Efficient. Purposeful.

I realized it was a form of nonverbal communication, a message to everyone around him. Don’t fuck with me. He was a pit viper and proud.