Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 87781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87781 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
“You’re my king,” she whispers, her voice shaking.
The words are a key, unlocking something I’ve been too afraid to let loose, that cage inside me, the one I’ve never been able to shake.
I thrust into her harder, feeling her tighten around me.
“Say it again,” I demand, my voice low and gruff. I thrust once more, my hips slamming against her. “Tell me you’ll always be mine, that you’ll never wear another man’s crown.”
“I’m yours,” she cries out on a moan, fighting to maintain eye contact with me. “I’ll always be yours, my king. No other will ever touch me, no other will ever have a place in my heart. I wear your crown and no one else’s.”
Her words send a wave of possessiveness coursing through me, and I lift her up, holding her hips as I continue to thrust into her, deeper and harder with every stroke.
Her heart. She told me she loved me back in that cell—had that been a lie? Had that been a false plea to bring me back to life?
Do I really have this woman’s heart, even now, in this world?
“You told me you loved me,” I manage to say, so painfully aware of how weak it makes me sound. “Did you mean that? Do you actually love me?”
Her eyes widen, her mouth dropping open at another hard, deep thrust, and before my heart sinks, she nods. There’s a mixture of fear and devotion in her gaze, a plea for understanding.
“I meant it,” she says through a gasp before she swallows thickly. “I love you.”
My heart presses against my ribs until I’m sure they’ll break. “Even here, even now?”
“Yes, here, now, always.”
Those words release the storm inside me, and with a roar of triumph, I thrust into her one last time, the pleasure and relief coursing through us like a tidal wave. We convulse together in the dim light of the bathroom, her body arching against me, my moans and her cries filling the space.
When I finally pull out of her, she collapses onto the cold surface of the sink, her ass exposed, her hair tumbling around her face. I reach down and carefully pull up her pants and underwear. Then, I grab her shoulder and make her turn to face me, tucking her hair behind her ear and wiping the sweat from her forehead with a tenderness that surprises me.
“You’re my husband,” she whispers again, the words soothing to my soul. “That hasn’t changed.”
Why do I have such a hard time believing it? Hanna has never shown me anything but devotion and affection. She’s never given me a reason not to trust her—not lately, anyway.
“Why am I so scared you’ll change your mind?” I whisper to her. Each word feels raw, bare, vulnerable. Each word terrifies me.
She gives me a tired smile. “Because even though you’re a god, you have the emotions of a mortal, and us mortals only fear two things: death and love. It means you’re far more human than you ever thought.”
“I’m not sure I like that,” I admit, tucking my cock back in my pants and buttoning them up.
“Yeah, well, we don’t like it either,” she says with a sigh. “I think we spend most of our lives trying to run from it in some way, even when we know it’s really the thing we want most. Love, that is. Not death.”
There’s a melancholy to her words, and I’m unsure if it’s because of me or not. I can’t even begin to imagine the stress she must be under. I just don’t want to add to that stress if I can help it.
“How about we go back to the room?” I say to her. “I think I’m finally full.”
She laughs softly, an angelic sound. “Sounds good. We’ll go back to the table and make sure we’ve settled up first. Hopefully, that mustache guy will still be on his best behavior.”
My jealously flares again at the mention of him. I thought I fucked that emotion out of my system, but I guess not. What if the longer I’m in the Upper World, the more I’ll start feeling all these emotions, as if they’re some sort of contagious disease?
Fortunately, when we step back into the bar, the man and his group of friends are gone. Just as well; I’m sure the sight of him would probably cause me to do something else Hanna would frown upon. When you know you can punish or manipulate people with impunity, morality starts to crack.
Hanna makes sure the waitress has gets paid and then we get on the strange elevator ride and go back to our floor. I have to wonder if an elevator in Shadow’s End would make sense. It would make traveling to Sarvi’s room a lot easier, if only I could figure out a way to operate one. Steam engine, perhaps? Maybe I could bottle lightning during the next storm and find a way to use that as electricity.