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“You have no idea,” he broke off, his lips hovering over mine, his voice a wrecked rasp. “No idea what you do to me.” I did because I felt it.
“Dacre,” I whispered, pressing more firmly until he leaned back. “I am your wife,” I reminded him. “And as such, I’m going to fuck you.”
“I want you to ride me,” he said firmly, his voice laced with his need.
“Touch your pussy,” he commanded, the gentleness in his voice gone. “Show your husband exactly how you like to be touched.”
“Let me taste it.” Dacre’s hand wrapped firmly around my wrist, and I watched, entranced, as he guided my hand to his mouth.
“I told you to ride me,” Dacre growled against my flesh. “That means my face too, love.”
“You were made for me,” he growled. “This pussy was made for me.”
“That’s right. Be a good wife and come again for me. Come on your husband’s cock with this pretty pussy.”
“You controlled it.”
“Then I will fight at your side, Verena. I will fight for you as I once fought for your mother.”
“You are not just an heir, not just a warrior.”
“You are the last daughter of Veyrith. The next Q...
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“You are the ruler that will un...
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“No one in this rebellion will follow you, none of them will bow.”
“Your son already bows for me.”
“You are my father, but if you dare speak of my wife like that again, I will slit your throat and paint this city in your blood.”
“The tides have already turned,” I said. “The storm you feared is already here.”
“She is my fate, my future,” I said quietly, my words sharp as a blade. “And I serve only her.”
“Your future queen is leaving,”
“Kneel.”
“I have been wrong about a great many things.” His voice didn’t shake, not anymore. “And I was wrong about you.” His words slammed into my chest. “I was wrong about this rebellion.”
Not as he moved forward, not as he bent a knee. A gasp ripped through the room as he pressed a fist to the ground and dropped his head slightly. “I will follow you into war.”
“And I will fight beside you until the king is dead.” He lifted his head slightly, his gaze burning into mine. “He has already taken too much, too much of you, too much of us, and we will not allow him to take any more.”
I dropped to one knee, and Dacre’s father’s gaze snapped to mine.
“I will fight beside you.” My voice was steady. Strong. “Until the king is dead.”
“Our mothers cannot have died for nothing.”
She was my mate, my wife, and the thought of losing this connection was unimaginable.
She was ruinous. And she was mine.
“You are my family.” Dacre looked at each of us. “We are all each other has, and we will fight together. We will fight for each other.”
“And if we don’t come back?”
“Then I will find you in the next life. All of you.”
“We fight for him. We end this for them all.”
“I warned you,” she whispered, stepping farther back into the shadows. “You tried to claim what was never meant to be yours.”
“You wanted a weapon,” I whispered, twisting the blade. “And you got one.” A shudder tore through his body before his weight sagged, the dagger still buried in his chest, and I watched as the great King of Marmoris crumbled.
“The king is dead.” A breath. A murmur. Then, “Long live the queen!”
I turned, and one by one, the room fell to their knees.
“I’m yours,” I murmured. "And you are mine.”
"In this life and every life after."
“that even as my queen, you would still be a little traitor.”
