The Forsaken King

A blanket fell on top of me, and I actually felt a bit of heat in my fingertips. My eyes closed. “That feels nice…”

The blanket lifted again, and then an inferno of heat hit me. A massive arm draped over my waist, and I was smothered in the kind of heat that I felt at midday in the summer, the kind that made sweat drip down the small of my back.

“What if she tries anything?” Ian asked.

“I’ll snap her neck.” The voice came right at my ear. “Problem solved.”

My eyes opened and looked at the muscular arm draped over my stomach, an arm that felt like a burning log in the hearth. My head turned farther, and I saw a massive shoulder, tanned skin over tight muscle, and then a jawline so hard it looked like the edge of a sharp blade. The blanket was at his chest, and I could see the muscle there too. “What…what are you doing?” I felt better, but my teeth were still chattering.

Mastodon’s deep voice sounded again. “Keeping you alive.”

I lifted my chin to meet his gaze.

His eyes were already closed—as if he didn’t see me as a threat at all.

I lifted the blanket slightly to look underneath…and I saw it.

It.

His hard chest led to a riverbed of chiseled abs, strong abs that could take a beating, and then he had this line of hair underneath his belly button that traveled down and down…until…yeah.

His muscular thighs were tanned like his arms and covered in dark hair.

But my eyes went back to the thing that had captured my full attention.

Damn.

I dropped the blanket again and turned to make sure his eyes were still closed.

They weren’t. They were wide open—and staring right at me.

For one of the few times in my life, I was actually embarrassed, so I quickly looked away, unable to handle that stare any longer.

The sound of voices and shuffling woke me up.

Before my eyes opened, I was aware of how relaxed my body was, the way my muscles were warm all the way through. It was the first time I’d been comfortable since I’d left my bedroom in the castle.

My eyes opened, and I saw Ian beside me, leaned up against the wall as he ate his meager breakfast.

My back was swearing hot because there was a solid rock pressed to it. It slowly rose and fell, in cadence with my own breathing. Last night flashed back to me, the shoulders, the pecs, the abs of steel, the…other thing.

My god, it was huge.

And I’d been caught staring at it.

Normally, I would just own up to it without shame, but this was a little different.

The blanket shifted as he moved behind me.

He stood up, buck naked, in front of his men and started to get dressed.

I took a peek over my shoulder even though I told myself not to.

Now I had a view of the rear—a very tight rear.

His legs were lean and muscular, and his ass firm and tight. His back was a mosaic of muscles, dents in the skin between the segments, shoulders that were even bigger from this angle. He pulled on his bottoms first, then his boots. “Get up.”

Did he really have eyes in the back of his head?

I let the blanket fall off me, and the cold returned to my limbs. Now that I was fully thawed, it didn’t affect me as much, but if it was just as cold tonight as it had been last night, we’d have to do that again.

I folded up his bedroll nice and tight and handed it to him after he got his tunic on.

He took it from my hand, his angry stare on my face.

I expected him to make a comment about last night, but he didn’t.

“Here.” Ian handed me some breakfast, more dried meat and even staler bread.

I took it without complaint.

Mastodon relit both the torches, and then we were off.

Ian and the other three men took the lead while Mastodon took the rear, the heat from his torch warming my back when he was directly behind me. The scenery was more of the same, rocks, dirt, and ice crystals. I did notice small roots protruding from the dirt, and I wasn’t sure how that was possible.

The slope started to descend farther, just enough that you could tumble forward if you weren’t careful. It started to curve too, like a spiral staircase, round and round. “Did someone build this place?”

“What’s the other option?” Ian asked. “It’s natural?”

“But this…this must have taken—”

“More than a decade,” Ian finished.

I looked behind me, Mastodon’s cold stare meeting mine instantly. “Did you…do this?”

He held the torch high, his shoulders shifting with every step, the anger sheathed in his stare.

I looked forward again. “Where does it go?”

“You really can’t figure that out?” Ian kept his gaze forward. “What’s below your kingdom?”