Gleam (The Plated Prisoner, #3)

by Raven Kennedy

Ravinger doesn’t seem bothered by Midas’s anger. In fact, he’s looking at Midas with bored amusement. It seems he hasn’t just transformed his appearance, but in a split second, he’s taken on another persona as well.

But Midas can’t keep me without my compliance, and that’s a truth he never wanted me to see. He never wanted me to wake up and realize just how much power I actually have.

As sadness overtakes my anger, I wonder what’s wrong with me. Why couldn’t he love me? Truly love me? Midas loves my shimmering skin, my gleaming hair. He is undoubtedly in love with my power. I gave him my heart, and I was too young, too stupid to see that his adoration was for my gold, not me. I must be defective in some way. Unworthy. Or maybe this is simply what I’m destined for. Maybe this is all I’m allowed to have. The woman who can turn the world gold has to have a check on her own greed. Perhaps love is the price of my power.

“Relax, Auren,” he commands. “Rest now. I’ll stay until you fall asleep.” A snort nearly escapes me. That’s about as comforting as being told there’s a monster under your bed, only, this one is lying down on it with me.

Beneath my anger and the numbness are the bruised pieces of a broken heart.

“Shove down weakness, and strength will rise. You can’t be strong without conquering those weaknesses first.

If he truly believes I would ever take his whore’s baby and pretend it was my own, then he doesn’t know me at all. No, if I can’t have children, then he can’t either.

I’ll rip Highbell from his grasp and crush his hopes of claiming an heir. After all, he did it to me first.

It wasn’t until my fist closed around emptiness that I realized I was grasping for him.

“Stop with the dramatics, Auren. Stop with this rebellion. It doesn’t suit you.” “No, the problem is that it doesn’t suit you.”

“You see a commander from another kingdom’s army coming toward your king’s favored, and your instinct is to back the fuck up?”

“You caught me,” I say, though my voice comes out in more of a whisper, the sound of an unsaid question drifting inside of it. He tips his chin down, eyes coating me like shade against a scorched day. “I’ll do that anytime you need catching, Goldfinch.”

“You’re very hard,” I counter. A rich, dark laugh slips from his mouth. “You’ve no idea.”

“I’m saying that you are my own good. And for you, I gave you a choice, but you chose him.”

Why is it that a man can make you feel like nothing, when you have given him everything?

Behave tonight Sit pretty Play your silly music Leave the men to speak Those old words sing along in soundless lyrics. Same shit, different castle.

“You were watching him. I saw you.” “Yeah?” I bite out. “Well, I saw you fucking your royal saddles all the time in front of me, so I think you can handle a glance.”

“What if I just maim him a bit?”

“I’ve wanted you since the moment I laid eyes on you, Goldfinch. I was just waiting for you to catch up.”

“We can play this push and pull game for a little bit longer if you prefer. I enjoy our verbal sparring. The challenge makes the reward that much sweeter. But we both know it’s just a matter of time before I have you under me, spread out and gloriously naked with your sunlit skin pressed against mine as I take you hard and slow.”

“That’s not very gentlemanly,” I tease. His lips tip up. “I’m no gentleman.”

“I can’t wait to thread my fingers through every strand,” he tells me. “To twist it around my fist and tip your head back so I can look you in the eye as I take you from behind.”

“You look good against that wall, but you’re going to look even better pinned up against it while I fuck you.”

“Look at you, you’ve had my cock for two seconds, and you’re already begging for more.”

“Call it presumptuous all you like,” he replies smoothly. “We both know I’m going to be buried inside of you soon.”

“Come, baby,” he purrs with dark decadence. “I want you to come with my tongue lapping at your clit and my finger in your sweet cunt.”

“Don’t be greedy, Goldfinch. Just take what I give you.”

“If you think I’m leaving without you, you’re out of your damned mind.”

“Midas can go fuck himself,” he retorts hotly.

“You got in trouble,” she singsongs.

“Better the whore to the man at my back than the favored to you.”

“I already told you. If you think I’m leaving without you, you’re out of your damned mind.”

“You won’t kill her.” It’s a fucking promise.