49

If it were Elias standing here, he’d kill him without question. He wouldn’t stand here with sweat beading onto his palms, wondering if he could do it. He wouldn’t even need a knife. I’d seen him dispose of a traitor with a quick snap of his neck. He knew when it was necessary to take a life.

And this was necessary. Draunar had kidnapped me, and now Elias was fighting for my freedom below in the palace.

I had the scales. Corinne could craft the spell now. We had a way out—as far as I knew. The battle would be even easier if I removed Draunar from the equation. That’d be one way to prove myself as a worthy queen. Not just a pawn, not just a prize, not just a treasure packed away for Draunar to covet—I could be a warrior.

I was a wolf of Nightfall.

I could be the Bloody Queen.

I gripped the hilt and leaned forward. One quick motion. One slice across his throat and this would be over.

“Mmf,” Draunar murmured. He stirred, then raised one hand and rubbed the back of his neck where I’d pulled the scales off. I stumbled backward and stuffed the knife into my other pocket. My footsteps were muffled by the carpets, but were still audible, and I barely avoided crashing into another precarious pile of trinkets and tchotchkes.

Draunar rolled onto his back, then his green eyes flickered open. “Reyna,” he murmured.

“Your—Your Highness,” I stammered. “I didn’t mean to wake you, I apologize.”

Draunar propped himself up on one elbow, blinking awake more as he peered at me. “How did you find yourself in my quarters?” he asked, half-suspicious. His gaze flickered around him, like he was accounting for all his things. Did he think I was interested in his hoard? Did he even have a mental record of all he had in here?

“My apologies,” I said again. “I—um, I was outside the door when I heard you—you were talking in your sleep.” I pressed my lips together. “I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Is that so?” Draunar asked. “The little wolf is worried about me?” He smirked and did not look convinced at all.

“I missed you,” I lied. I dropped my voice low, and my gaze, too, trying my best to look demure and shy. “It’s been lonely here. I wanted—I just wanted to spend some time with you.”

I looked up at him through my lashes. The suspicious expression had been replaced by something closer to hunger. “Corinne didn’t take care of you?” he teased.

“Of course she did,” I whispered. “But it’s not the same.”

“The same as what?” he encouraged.

“As the protection of a king,” I said.

He liked that. His eyes glowed a deeper green, and his smile showed his golden canines. “I knew you’d come around,” he said. “Being a woman of Shianga is not a bad fate, is it?”

“It’s nice here,” I said. “Peaceful.”

“Come,” he said. “Lie down with me.”

I bit my lower lip in between my teeth. I hadn’t thought this far ahead—of course my role as part of his hoard was more than just my presence. Eventually, he’d want me. All of me.

I sat down gingerly on the side of the bed, grateful for the depth of my pockets but still hyperaware of the scales and the knife. If he found either of those, that’d be it for me.

“I’m glad you came to your senses, little wolf,” Draunar said.

If only I’d come to my senses earlier. If only I hadn’t been too cowardly to draw the knife when I had the chance. Regret was sour in the back of my throat as I smiled at him.

Draunar trailed his fingers gently up my back, from the base of my spine, all the way up to my nape. They felt cold, even through the thin linen of my shirt. I suppressed a shiver as he wrapped a hand around my sensitive nape, nails digging into the sides of my neck in an obviously claiming grip. Internally, my wolf growled and bared her teeth, but I didn’t let it show on my face. I kept a demure smile on my face as he tugged me down, and I let myself be bent at the waist.

He kissed me. His lips were cold against mine, and I tried to keep my lips mostly closed while he fit his lips around my lower lip. He tightened his grip on my nape, clearly wanting more—a deeper kiss—but I resisted delicately.

“Your Highness,” I whispered against his lips, “you need your rest.”

“I need you more,” he growled.

“I know,” I sighed. I reached out and stroked my fingertips gently over his arm, avoiding his scales as I traced patterns on the skin. “And we have plenty of time.”

“Do we?”

“Yes,” I said. “I know you’ll succeed in battle and I—I’m not ready.”

“Hm,” Draunar said. He narrowed his eyes again, then released my nape and set his hand at my waist instead. From the sharpness in his expression, it was clear he was deciding if he wanted to respect my wishes or not. My wolf was huddled in my chest, hackles up, ready to explode forth to defend us if necessary.

But then he dropped his hand and nodded. “You’re right,” he said. “Your presence will be my reward when I save Shianga and Frasia from the terror of the Bloody King.”

“Exactly,” I said with a soft smile. “I’m sorry for waking you. Get some rest.”

I stood back up, then stroked Draunar’s brow in a measured act of tenderness. Then I hurried out of the room, careful not to disturb any of his treasures, waiting for him to change his mind and call me back into bed.