Ruling Sikthand (Clecanian, #7)

by Victoria Aveline

He didn’t want her to come speak to him because he so desperately wanted her to come speak to him.

“No. I don’t bend.” Sikthand’s eyes drifted to the mirror. Truth rose like acid in his throat. “But I could break for her.”

Sikthand, the king harder than askait, trembled.

“This is a temporary fascination, human,” he hissed. “You are but a Season. Calamitous, powerful, consuming. But like the rains, you too will pass.” He dropped her chin and straightened to his full height, towering over her, not revealing the crippling ache constricting his stomach. “I need only weather you.”

might be worth getting stabbed by her if it meant he could clutch her to his chest and take her mouth in a kiss as he drifted away.

“She brings me silence.” Sikthand swallowed down the tightness in his throat. “The clouds are not so heavy when she’s near.”