The Ippos King (Wraith Kings, #3)

by Grace Draven

“I'm as predictable as the sunrise,” he told Anhuset and chuckled at her snort. “I was just thinking you don’t smile much. You should. Your features are made for it.” He didn’t fabricate. There was an austerity to her face that was softened by her toothy smile, and unlike many, he wasn’t intimidated by the sight of her pointed teeth. “Like this,” she said, baring her ivories to the back molars in a wolfish grin. Serovek rolled his eyes and coughed his laughter into his goblet when she reared back in her seat, grin evaporating. She stared at him as if he’d suddenly grown a third arm or an eye in the middle of his forehead. “Are any of you aware of just how hideous doing that makes you?” she said. He toasted her a second time. “Only to the Kai, sha-Anhuset.”

“I’m not sure I’d know what to do with a hair ribbon,” Anhuset finally said, addressing the stars above them. “Probably strangle someone with it.” She choked on the wine she’d just sipped, and Serovek thumped her on the back until she quieted. Then she laughed, and he was lost. There was the magic of the Kai, and then there was the sorcery of Anhuset’s laughter.

Maybe one day instead, I’ll have you in my bed.” He didn’t miss a blink, and the smile he turned on her was meant to slay. In that moment, Anhuset was very glad she was Kai and could focus on the strangeness of his looks instead of their seductiveness. “You once said I wouldn’t survive you,” he teased. “While you were saying hello to my bits with your hand.”

“So to sum up, I'm big, ugly, and annoying.” Once more, the brief flash of pointed teeth in a smile that vanished as quickly as it appeared. “So sayeth you.” Unlike her, he didn't hesitate in showing her his grin, widening it even more when her nose wrinkled at the sight of his own square ivories.

“And beauty is a quality defined by more than appearance,” he said softly. “Good night, Anhuset.”

“You are truly the most beautiful woman I've ever beheld.” Perched on the edge of sleep, she wondered if she imagined Serovek's compliment. She didn't bother to open her eyes. “I don't understand why you think so,” she mumbled. His voice caressed her, body and soul. “And I don't understand why you do not.”

Serovek regarded her, trading his frown for a half smile. “Battered and pissed on, you're still beautiful.” “And I didn't think you could get any uglier.” His smile grew, accompanied by a wince. “Does this mean I can't coax you under me?” “The beating has made you delirious. I doubt you can even stand at the moment.” Her mind recognized his jesting, but her body reacted otherwise, sending a hot blush flowing under her skin. Her heart, barely slowed after the climb, resumed its previous heavy beat. Serovek waved a hand in a careless motion. “Some bruises, a few cracked ribs. They didn't geld me.” “Don't think the idea didn't occur to them. And you didn't mention the black eyes. Your nose is broken too. You're in no shape for a swiving.” He snorted. “I'm beaten, not dead. I'd suggest you be on top, but you weigh as much as my horse. You'll break the rest of my bones those shit maggots didn't get to.” A chuff of laughter escaped her. “Ah, there it is,” he marveled, as if he'd turned back a threadbare cloth to reveal a valuable jewel. “There's what?” Her question was rhetorical. She knew to what he referred.

“Your smile. There's no finer sight than a smile from sha-Anhuset, unless it's a smiling, naked Anhuset.” He wiggled his eyebrows. Anhuset rolled her eyes. “Feeling better by the moment, I see.”

“Are you ready to go home?” “I am home.” Serovek flinched, even as his arm tightened around her for a moment before going slack. She, on the other hand, held him even tighter. “Are you not here beside me?” He nodded, a smile blossoming across his mouth and his deep-water blue eyes turning almost black. “You will always be home, no matter the ground I stand on,” she said.