The Forsaken King

He didn’t look at me. Didn’t acknowledge my existence. His mood was different, as if something had happened.

We returned to his cabin, and the second we stepped inside, it felt like home.

I hoped I never had to go back to that shithole. “What happened?”

He didn’t take off his shoes or clothes as if he had somewhere he needed to be. “What do you mean?”

“You’re different.”

He stared at me, his expression hard.

“Like something upset you.”

“Not upset. But I have to go. Got shit to do.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

“No. You should stay here.”

“So…I don’t have to go back to that cabin?”

“No.”

“So, something did happen…”

He kept a straight face, as if he wouldn’t discuss it with me.

“Has your mother finally dropped her hostility now that she knows I’m not my father?”

“Yes, but that’s not why.”

“Then why?”

“Because I gave her no other choice.”

Now my heart squeezed in a whole different way. “Thank you—”

“Just so we’re clear, you’re still our prisoner, you’re still going to help me, and I doubt we’ll ever let you go. Nothing’s going to stop me from getting to that throne—and slitting your father’s throat.”

Put on the spot like that, I didn’t know what to say.

“You still want to do this?”

“Do what?”

He gave me a hard stare, answering the question with his silence.

“No.”

He tried to keep a straight face, but a hint of disappointment came through.

“But it’s just going to happen anyway, so… Do you?”

The answer must be obvious to him because he didn’t respond. “I’ll be back in a couple hours. We leave tomorrow.”

“Leave for where?”

“HeartHolme.”

“HeartHolme… What’s that?”

“Our kingdom.”

So, there was more than these wooden cabins in the freezing cold. I remembered him mentioning it before, and I hoped it was a place warmer than this. “Just the two of us?”

“Queen Rolfe and her guards will travel with us.”

“Oh…” I couldn’t even pretend not to be disappointed.

His eyes showed a glint of anger. “She’s your queen now. Remember that.”

I had a good comeback, but I kept my mouth shut because of his intense mood. Now wasn’t the time to provoke him. Our cohabitation had taught me things that couldn’t be learned through conversation, like his moods, his unspoken desires, things I couldn’t even explain.

His eyes lingered a moment longer, as if giving me the opportunity to say my final words.

“What are you doing?”

Like the question annoyed him, he walked out.

I took a warm bath then fed the fire in the main room so it would keep it comfortable. I assumed the trek to HeartHolme was long, and it would be spent in the freezing cold, in the company of a woman who despised me.

Despised me because of the blood that ran through my veins.

Just when it turned dark, he returned with two trays of food.

I wasn’t sure what I was more excited about—the food or him.

He set one tray on the table next to the armchair and then carried his dinner to his desk. He took a seat, his back to me, and ate as he pored over maps and scrolls.

I sat in front of the fire and ate, wearing one of his shirts I’d found in the closet. It was a blanket on me, and I had to roll up the sleeves several times so my hands wouldn’t drown in the fabric. The fire was warm enough that I didn’t need bottoms, so I sat there in just my underwear, glancing at his back from time to time.

At some point, I fell asleep, my knees to my chest with my arms crossed over my body. The sound of the crackling flames lulled me under and accompanied my dreams. I suddenly felt weightless, two strong arms scooping underneath my knees and back, holding me close. I recognized his smell right away, recognized his heat like sun right on my face.

My back hit the mattress, and then my underwear was pulled off.

I opened my eyes, seeing his naked body on top of mine. My thighs parted with his, and then my pelvis tilted as I felt my body fold underneath him.

“I’m sleeping…”

He guided himself inside me, his entrance so powerful that it jolted me wide awake. “I don’t care.” With his powerful chest in my face, he pounded me into the mattress, fucking me straight to the point so we could both go to sleep.

There wasn’t a single kiss, any eye contact, nothing, but my body tightened and exploded as if there’d been hours of foreplay. My open lips were pressed to his chest, my moans swallowed, my teeth clenching down for a small bite.

He came a moment later, filling me in silence, not even giving a moan.

Then he rolled off me and lay there, ready to sleep as if nothing had happened. The sheets stayed at his waist because he was warm, his skin flushed with the blood in his muscles, and his powerful chest slowly returned to its normal breathing.