The King (Black Dagger Brotherhood 12)

Her eyes dropped from his as she pulled her robe together. She even redid the cloth belt before sitting up on the pillows. “I wanted you. I still do. It’s as simple as that.”

He reached up to loosen the necktie that was constricting his breathing—and remembered he was buck-ass na**d.

“Not simple,” he said hoarsely. “That is not simple.”

The last thing he needed was another female he was obligated to wed: If Phury as Primale wanted him to follow through on this? What the hell was he going to do?

Especially because … he was falling in love with Selena.

As Trez stood na**d on the far side of the room, Selena thought, Hmm, not what she’d been going for.

But she’d been right to keep quiet. At the last minute, she’d made a conscious decision not to tell him—for precisely this reason.

“How is— how— why…” The stuttering was not a good sign. “I thought you were an ehros.”

“I am.”

“So how are you a virgin?”

“I was not used in that manner.”

He threw his hands up in frustration. “Why me?” Abruptly, he cursed. “I mean…”

“As I said, I wanted to be with you. I still do.” After the strike of pain, she’d only gotten a hint of the pleasure—she wanted to know what else there was to making love.

Putting his head in his hands, he just stood there. “Christ.”

“Just so that we understand each other,” she said crisply, “I’m not expecting anything from you. If that’s what you’re worried about. There shall be no mating.”

Not with her future. Although with the way Trez was looking, that wouldn’t have been in the cards anyway—

“You sure your Primale will think like that?”

She kicked her chin up. “Who’s going to tell him.” When that seemed to stop him, she shrugged. “It shan’t be me. And no one else is in this house with us. So if you do not, he will never know.”

In truth, she wasn’t sure what Phury would do if he found out—technically, now that she’d had sex with someone other than the Primale or a Brother, she was fallen. But it was hard to know in these new times how much of the old ways survived.

Not that it mattered. Her time was coming due.

Which was why, when Trez had paused after noting her sex was tight, she’d taken matters into her own hands. She’d been determined to not lose her chance, especially not after that episode downstairs at the kitchen table.

Abruptly, she thought of the one he was bound to—and felt a lance of pain through her chest.

“Worry not,” she said with exhaustion. “There is nothing to be done.”

“I do have honor, you know,” he snapped.

“I mean no offense.”

He closed his eyes and muttered, “You shouldn’t be apologizing.”

“I fail to see the problem. My body is mine to give and I chose you—and you wanted me.”

At that, his lids rose. “I hurt you.”

“What was painful was that you stopped.”

Trez shook his head. “This is a mess.”

“According to whom?”

“You don’t know the half of it.” But at least he came over and sat on the bed. Putting his head back into his hands, he exhaled hard. “I shouldn’t have been the one, Selena. Anybody but me.”

“Again, don’t you think that’s a judgment only I can make?”

“But you don’t know me.”

“I know enough.” After all, he’d told her about the human women. His parents. His being tied to another. What else could there be?

“Nope. You don’t—”

A sound cut through the room, and it took a moment for her to realize it was a portable phone ringing.

“Are you f**king me,” he groused as he reached past her to the pillow. On it, a cellular device was sitting with its screen facing up, having clearly slid out of his pants pocket when they ended up on the headboard.

He checked the number—and then looked over to the clock. “What time is it—oh, shit.”

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“I’ve got to take this.” He glanced around as if looking for some privacy. “I’ll be right back.”

As she watched him go out into the hall, his na**d body was resplendent—and just the sight of his backside was enough to get her assessing whether or not she’d ever get the chance to be with him again.

Closing her eyes, she stretched herself and found an ache in her pelvis that had never been there before.

Yes, it had hurt some. But not enough to make her regret anything—or not want to do it again.

Something told her it wasn’t in her future, however.

She should have said something to him.

But there was no taking that decision back.

FIFTY-THREE

In the end, Wrath signed the goddamn dissolution proclamation.

His mother’s ring on his pinkie finger was what made up his mind: That ruby was a symbol of Beth’s solemn vow to him and it made him think about everything his female had done for him. In order to mate him, she’d put her faith, her heart, her future in him and his people, traditions, customs—turning away from her human side entirely, to the point where she had no contact with that race anymore, nothing outside him and his brothers, his job taking over both their lives.

She had gained much, sure. But she had lost everything she had ever known. And she’d done it for him, for them.

Right now, the most important thing was not the throne. No, it was living up to the standard she herself had set: He needed to put his signature where his mouth was. Even though he hated this whole f**king thing, from the aristocrats and the Band of Bastards to the sense of loss that came with this piece of cocksucking paper, he had to honor what he’d told his Beth.

Her traditions were just as weighty and important as his own.

If he didn’t do this? He was treating her with the same disrespect the Council had.

And this was the most logical way to circumvent the glymera.

A nice little get-it-up-ya to their machinations.

“Where’s the pen?” he growled.

When Rehv put the thing in his dagger hand, he squeezed Beth’s palm. “Where do I do it?”

“Right here,” she said roughly. “Here.”

He let her lead the pen’s nib to where there must have been a line, and then he scribbled his name.

“What happens now?” he demanded.

Rehv laughed with a nasty edge. “I roll this little missive up and shove it where the sun don’t shine.” There was the rustling of parchment. “They called for the ‘crowning’ to happen at midnight. Fucking shame I have to wait until then. Come on, Saxton, you need some food. You look like you’re ready to collapse.”

Wrath glanced over at the silent, unmoving crowd. “Well. Are you people eating or what.”

As conversation jumped into the silence, like his brothers knew he needed the attention elsewhere, he took Beth’s arm.

“Get us out of here,” he said harshly.

“Roger that.”

With quick efficiency, his shellan led him away from the noise and the food, and when he caught a whiff of burning wood, he guessed she’d taken him over toward the library.

“Lie down, George,” she said as she pulled up short at what he guessed was the doorway. “I know, I know you don’t want to sit out here, but we need a minute.”

Good call, he thought as he dropped his hold and walked forward on his own, his dagger hand stretched out. When he felt the mantel, he wished he could see the banked fire. He wanted to poke something hot and make it sizzle.

A click-click told him she’d shut them in.

“Thank you,” his Beth said.

He turned around. “Back at you.”

“It’s going to be all right.”

“If you’re talking about the Band of Bastards, I wouldn’t be so sure. There’ll be another angle. We’ve bought some time, but not solved the problem.”

Man, the bitterness in his voice was so not him. But this situation had changed him.

Thank God his father was dead—and wasn’t that something he’d never imagined thinking—

From behind him, Beth pressed herself against his body, her hands slipping up to his shoulders and rubbing the tight muscles. “It was a beautiful ceremony.”

He had to laugh. “Elvis did do a great job.”

“You know what’s customary for humans to do after they make it official?”

“What?”

As her arms slipped around his waist, she came around, rose up on her tiptoes and kissed the side of his throat. And what do you know, his mood started to improve.

“Consummation,” she murmured. “It’s traditional for the man and wife to seal the deal, if you know what I mean.”

Wrath started to smile, but then he remembered the last time they were together—and the circumstances. “Are you sure you’re ready for that after … well, you know.”

“Very sure.”

To prove the point, she rubbed herself against him, and he had to curse. Instantly starved, he nonetheless reeled that wild side in as he dropped his head and took his wife’s mouth.

“Pick me up,” she said on a sigh.

As he complied, she pulled the dress she was wearing to her waist, her legs splitting to go around his hips.

“You’re not wearing any panties,” he groaned.

“I wanted to be prepared for this.”

“Jesus, I’m glad I didn’t know—I would have…”

He didn’t bother finishing that one. Instead, as she tightened a hold around his neck, he reached in between them and unbuttoned his slacks. Instantly, his c*ck sprang free, throbbing and hot, and as he settled her a little lower, he found her core—

“Shit! What if you’re pregnant?” he blurted, shoving her back. “Fuck—”

“Pregnant women have sex. Really. They do.”

Stretching up, she sucked in his lower lip and then nipped it with her fangs. “Unless you’re saying you don’t want me?”

He weaved in his shitkickers. “So not the case.”

He solved any confusion there by entering her slowly, pressing in, finding home in a gentle way. She didn’t seem to hurt any, but he wasn’t taking chances as his palms cupped her ass and he began to move her up and down on him.

“I love you,” he said into her hair. “Forever.”

As she murmured it back into his ear, a shaft of paranoia drained some of the heat out of his body.

Had his father said the same thing to his mother?

And he knew how that had ended.

From out of nowhere, V’s warning came to him, about the field of white and the future in his hands. What did—

“Wrath,” his wife whispered. “Come back to me. Focus on me here and now…”

With a groan of submission, he let all the bullshit go, doing as she’d commanded, feeling and knowing only the sensation of him pumping in and out of her. The orgasm was a quiet one, a wave that approached and retreated with all the thunder of a summer breeze. But as he came inside his female and felt her contract around him, it seemed more powerful than all the ones that had rocked his balls.

He did not want to let her go.

Ever.

Outside of Selena’s bedroom, Trez accepted the call—but didn’t get a “hello” in.

“Where the f**k are you,” the queen’s executioner bit out. “And where is what you promised me.”

Trez squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m on my way.”

“Don’t you f**k with me.”

The connection was cut.

“Trez?” Selena asked from inside the room. “Is everything all right?”

Nope. Not in the slightest.

How was it noon already?

He pushed the door wide. “Yeah. But I gotta go.”

Cursing under his breath, he went directly to his pants and yanked them on—and when his balls got caught in the zipper, he deliberately pulled up harder, the pain shooting through his pelvis and making him sick.

That little phone call from s’Ex was a reminder of all the reasons it had been a dumb-ass idea to come up here.

Virgin.

Fuck.

As he grabbed his shirt and stuffed an arm through a sleeve, he was acutely aware of Selena sitting silently on the bed.

Virgin.

Right on cue, all those women he’d f**ked came back to him in a rush, once again crowding the space between them. And then he had a happy thought about the ones he was providing s’Ex today.

“That’s not happening again,” he said, motioning to the bed, to her.

Once was already too much.

In response, Selena’s face gave nothing away, but her scent said it all: The sadness came out of her very pores.

And yet she met him in the eye. “As you wish. But I shall be here if you change your mind.”

Man, she was nothing but self-possession as she stared him down, almost challenging him to stay away.

His self-control was not that good. But the situation he was in was that bad.

iAm was already at risk. If Selena were involved with him?

He didn’t want her falling into his Hell.

Oh, and as for Phury? He felt like shit saying nothing to the Primale. Just another way he’d dishonored her—but nothing good could come of a reveal like that.

“I have to go,” he muttered.

“As you wish.”

He reaaaaallly wanted her to stop saying that.

yes dropped from his as she pulled her robe together. She even redid the cloth belt before sitting up on the pillows. “I wanted you. I still do. It’s as simple as that.”

He reached up to loosen the necktie that was constricting his breathing—and remembered he was buck-ass na**d.

“Not simple,” he said hoarsely. “That is not simple.”

The last thing he needed was another female he was obligated to wed: If Phury as Primale wanted him to follow through on this? What the hell was he going to do?

Especially because … he was falling in love with Selena.

As Trez stood na**d on the far side of the room, Selena thought, Hmm, not what she’d been going for.

But she’d been right to keep quiet. At the last minute, she’d made a conscious decision not to tell him—for precisely this reason.

“How is— how— why…” The stuttering was not a good sign. “I thought you were an ehros.”

“I am.”

“So how are you a virgin?”

“I was not used in that manner.”

He threw his hands up in frustration. “Why me?” Abruptly, he cursed. “I mean…”

“As I said, I wanted to be with you. I still do.” After the strike of pain, she’d only gotten a hint of the pleasure—she wanted to know what else there was to making love.

Putting his head in his hands, he just stood there. “Christ.”

“Just so that we understand each other,” she said crisply, “I’m not expecting anything from you. If that’s what you’re worried about. There shall be no mating.”

Not with her future. Although with the way Trez was looking, that wouldn’t have been in the cards anyway—

“You sure your Primale will think like that?”

She kicked her chin up. “Who’s going to tell him.” When that seemed to stop him, she shrugged. “It shan’t be me. And no one else is in this house with us. So if you do not, he will never know.”

In truth, she wasn’t sure what Phury would do if he found out—technically, now that she’d had sex with someone other than the Primale or a Brother, she was fallen. But it was hard to know in these new times how much of the old ways survived.

Not that it mattered. Her time was coming due.

Which was why, when Trez had paused after noting her sex was tight, she’d taken matters into her own hands. She’d been determined to not lose her chance, especially not after that episode downstairs at the kitchen table.

Abruptly, she thought of the one he was bound to—and felt a lance of pain through her chest.

“Worry not,” she said with exhaustion. “There is nothing to be done.”

“I do have honor, you know,” he snapped.

“I mean no offense.”

He closed his eyes and muttered, “You shouldn’t be apologizing.”

“I fail to see the problem. My body is mine to give and I chose you—and you wanted me.”

At that, his lids rose. “I hurt you.”

“What was painful was that you stopped.”

Trez shook his head. “This is a mess.”

“According to whom?”

“You don’t know the half of it.” But at least he came over and sat on the bed. Putting his head back into his hands, he exhaled hard. “I shouldn’t have been the one, Selena. Anybody but me.”

“Again, don’t you think that’s a judgment only I can make?”

“But you don’t know me.”

“I know enough.” After all, he’d told her about the human women. His parents. His being tied to another. What else could there be?

“Nope. You don’t—”

A sound cut through the room, and it took a moment for her to realize it was a portable phone ringing.

“Are you f**king me,” he groused as he reached past her to the pillow. On it, a cellular device was sitting with its screen facing up, having clearly slid out of his pants pocket when they ended up on the headboard.

He checked the number—and then looked over to the clock. “What time is it—oh, shit.”

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“I’ve got to take this.” He glanced around as if looking for some privacy. “I’ll be right back.”

As she watched him go out into the hall, his na**d body was resplendent—and just the sight of his backside was enough to get her assessing whether or not she’d ever get the chance to be with him again.

Closing her eyes, she stretched herself and found an ache in her pelvis that had never been there before.

Yes, it had hurt some. But not enough to make her regret anything—or not want to do it again.

Something told her it wasn’t in her future, however.

She should have said something to him.

But there was no taking that decision back.

FIFTY-THREE

In the end, Wrath signed the goddamn dissolution proclamation.

His mother’s ring on his pinkie finger was what made up his mind: That ruby was a symbol of Beth’s solemn vow to him and it made him think about everything his female had done for him. In order to mate him, she’d put her faith, her heart, her future in him and his people, traditions, customs—turning away from her human side entirely, to the point where she had no contact with that race anymore, nothing outside him and his brothers, his job taking over both their lives.

She had gained much, sure. But she had lost everything she had ever known. And she’d done it for him, for them.

Right now, the most important thing was not the throne. No, it was living up to the standard she herself had set: He needed to put his signature where his mouth was. Even though he hated this whole f**king thing, from the aristocrats and the Band of Bastards to the sense of loss that came with this piece of cocksucking paper, he had to honor what he’d told his Beth.

Her traditions were just as weighty and important as his own.

If he didn’t do this? He was treating her with the same disrespect the Council had.

And this was the most logical way to circumvent the glymera.

A nice little get-it-up-ya to their machinations.

“Where’s the pen?” he growled.

When Rehv put the thing in his dagger hand, he squeezed Beth’s palm. “Where do I do it?”

“Right here,” she said roughly. “Here.”

He let her lead the pen’s nib to where there must have been a line, and then he scribbled his name.

“What happens now?” he demanded.

Rehv laughed with a nasty edge. “I roll this little missive up and shove it where the sun don’t shine.” There was the rustling of parchment. “They called for the ‘crowning’ to happen at midnight. Fucking shame I have to wait until then. Come on, Saxton, you need some food. You look like you’re ready to collapse.”

Wrath glanced over at the silent, unmoving crowd. “Well. Are you people eating or what.”

As conversation jumped into the silence, like his brothers knew he needed the attention elsewhere, he took Beth’s arm.

“Get us out of here,” he said harshly.

“Roger that.”

With quick efficiency, his shellan led him away from the noise and the food, and when he caught a whiff of burning wood, he guessed she’d taken him over toward the library.

“Lie down, George,” she said as she pulled up short at what he guessed was the doorway. “I know, I know you don’t want to sit out here, but we need a minute.”

Good call, he thought as he dropped his hold and walked forward on his own, his dagger hand stretched out. When he felt the mantel, he wished he could see the banked fire. He wanted to poke something hot and make it sizzle.

A click-click told him she’d shut them in.

“Thank you,” his Beth said.

He turned around. “Back at you.”

“It’s going to be all right.”

“If you’re talking about the Band of Bastards, I wouldn’t be so sure. There’ll be another angle. We’ve bought some time, but not solved the problem.”

Man, the bitterness in his voice was so not him. But this situation had changed him.

Thank God his father was dead—and wasn’t that something he’d never imagined thinking—

From behind him, Beth pressed herself against his body, her hands slipping up to his shoulders and rubbing the tight muscles. “It was a beautiful ceremony.”

He had to laugh. “Elvis did do a great job.”

“You know what’s customary for humans to do after they make it official?”

“What?”

As her arms slipped around his waist, she came around, rose up on her tiptoes and kissed the side of his throat. And what do you know, his mood started to improve.

“Consummation,” she murmured. “It’s traditional for the man and wife to seal the deal, if you know what I mean.”

Wrath started to smile, but then he remembered the last time they were together—and the circumstances. “Are you sure you’re ready for that after … well, you know.”

“Very sure.”

To prove the point, she rubbed herself against him, and he had to curse. Instantly starved, he nonetheless reeled that wild side in as he dropped his head and took his wife’s mouth.

“Pick me up,” she said on a sigh.

As he complied, she pulled the dress she was wearing to her waist, her legs splitting to go around his hips.

“You’re not wearing any panties,” he groaned.

“I wanted to be prepared for this.”

“Jesus, I’m glad I didn’t know—I would have…”

He didn’t bother finishing that one. Instead, as she tightened a hold around his neck, he reached in between them and unbuttoned his slacks. Instantly, his c*ck sprang free, throbbing and hot, and as he settled her a little lower, he found her core—

“Shit! What if you’re pregnant?” he blurted, shoving her back. “Fuck—”

“Pregnant women have sex. Really. They do.”

Stretching up, she sucked in his lower lip and then nipped it with her fangs. “Unless you’re saying you don’t want me?”

He weaved in his shitkickers. “So not the case.”

He solved any confusion there by entering her slowly, pressing in, finding home in a gentle way. She didn’t seem to hurt any, but he wasn’t taking chances as his palms cupped her ass and he began to move her up and down on him.

“I love you,” he said into her hair. “Forever.”

As she murmured it back into his ear, a shaft of paranoia drained some of the heat out of his body.

Had his father said the same thing to his mother?

And he knew how that had ended.

From out of nowhere, V’s warning came to him, about the field of white and the future in his hands. What did—

“Wrath,” his wife whispered. “Come back to me. Focus on me here and now…”

With a groan of submission, he let all the bullshit go, doing as she’d commanded, feeling and knowing only the sensation of him pumping in and out of her. The orgasm was a quiet one, a wave that approached and retreated with all the thunder of a summer breeze. But as he came inside his female and felt her contract around him, it seemed more powerful than all the ones that had rocked his balls.

He did not want to let her go.

Ever.

Outside of Selena’s bedroom, Trez accepted the call—but didn’t get a “hello” in.

“Where the f**k are you,” the queen’s executioner bit out. “And where is what you promised me.”

Trez squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m on my way.”

“Don’t you f**k with me.”

The connection was cut.

“Trez?” Selena asked from inside the room. “Is everything all right?”

Nope. Not in the slightest.

How was it noon already?

He pushed the door wide. “Yeah. But I gotta go.”

Cursing under his breath, he went directly to his pants and yanked them on—and when his balls got caught in the zipper, he deliberately pulled up harder, the pain shooting through his pelvis and making him sick.

That little phone call from s’Ex was a reminder of all the reasons it had been a dumb-ass idea to come up here.

Virgin.

Fuck.

As he grabbed his shirt and stuffed an arm through a sleeve, he was acutely aware of Selena sitting silently on the bed.

Virgin.

Right on cue, all those women he’d f**ked came back to him in a rush, once again crowding the space between them. And then he had a happy thought about the ones he was providing s’Ex today.

“That’s not happening again,” he said, motioning to the bed, to her.

Once was already too much.

In response, Selena’s face gave nothing away, but her scent said it all: The sadness came out of her very pores.

And yet she met him in the eye. “As you wish. But I shall be here if you change your mind.”

Man, she was nothing but self-possession as she stared him down, almost challenging him to stay away.

His self-control was not that good. But the situation he was in was that bad.

iAm was already at risk. If Selena were involved with him?

He didn’t want her falling into his Hell.

Oh, and as for Phury? He felt like shit saying nothing to the Primale. Just another way he’d dishonored her—but nothing good could come of a reveal like that.

“I have to go,” he muttered.

“As you wish.”

He reaaaaallly wanted her to stop saying that.