Page 55 of A Fate in Flames

I had to fight the urge to stroke its scorching scales, to feel if they were solid beneath the fire.I smiled at the sensation—a genuine, unguarded reaction—but when I remembered where I was, I snapped my attention back to Dalkhan.

The transformation in him was immediate and terrifying.A snarl twisted his perfect lips—his eyes burning with inner fire that matched his serpent’s.

I flinched back, the smile dying on my lips.

“Azmik.”The king uttered the name with quiet command.

The snake hissed—a sound like steam escaping hot metal—before dissipating into flames.Once it was gone, the fear had returned, doubled in intensity.

He exhaled a long, irritated breath—probably because he didn’t get the reaction he had wanted—and ordered with deadly softness, “Bow.”

I dropped my head again.The sudden movement made me dizzy.

“Lower.”The word cracked like a whip, splitting the air between us.He was angry.At me.At his pet.

I sank instantly, my knees hitting the stone with enough force to bruise.Pain shot up my legs.My hands pressed against my thighs, fingers splayed, trying to anchor myself.The ground was cool beneath me, but the heat rolling off him was blistering.

His shadow stretched over me, shifting as he rose from his throne.The air in the room tightened as he stepped closer.I didn’t dare move.I hardly dared to breathe, each shallow inhalation too loud in the oppressive silence.

He stopped right before me.A calloused hand caught my chin as he bent forward, his rough fingers tilting my face up to meet his gaze.His grip seared into my skin—my pulse jumped wildly where his thumb pressed against the hollow beneath my jaw.

“You willbowto me.”His voice dropped to a whisper, though it filled the room as if he shouted, resonating in my very bones.“You willworshipme.”

Something hot and forbidden coiled deep inside me.A heat that had absolutely no business existing when my life hung by the thinnest thread.Shame and desire tangled together until I couldn’t separate them—my body betraying me in the mosthorrificway.

His grip tightened, his thumb grazing the line of my jaw in what could almost be mistaken for a caress if not for the barely contained violence in his touch.He parted his lips to say something, but then he stilled, his entire body freezing.

He inhaled deeply through his nose, his nostrils flaring.

A deep, satisfied sound rumbled from his chest.

Someone kill me.Kill me now.

I jerked my chin, desperate to pull away.To hide what he so obviously sensed.But his fingers didn’t budge.If anything, they tightened to the edge of pain, reminding me how easily he could break me.

His smirk deepened, cruel triumph lighting his eyes.“Pathetic.”

Heat flooded my cheeks, blood rushing to the surface where his fingers still touched, and I knew he could feel it—could sense my shame and unwanted arousal.Tears burned at the edges of my vision, distorting my surroundings as humiliation scorched through me.

With a sharp flick of his wrist, he released me, the sudden absence of his touch more jarring than its presence had been.My chin dropped, my neck muscles forgetting how to function.

He turned and walked away, my skin still tingling, the phantom pressure of his fingers still lingering like an unwanted memory.

The doors boomed shut behind him with finality.I flinched, but remained kneeling on the cold stone, paralysed by what had just happened.My body a traitor to my mind.My emotions a chaotic storm.

I finally scrambled to my feet and fled the hall, legs shaking with each step.I had to return to my chambers before anyone could see the flush on my cheeks and the confusion in my eyes.Before I had to admit to myself what that encounter had awakened within me.

I shut the door behind me, pacing the length of my dimly lit room.Still burning with mortification, the humiliation crawling under my skin like insects, making me want to scratch away the memory.

I hated him.I hated the way his voice still lingered in my mind.The way his touch still ghosted across my chin.But more than anything else, I hated how my body responded to him.

No.

I refused to acknowledge the heat that had pooled in my core at his mere touch—at the dominance that radiated from him.

I tugged at strands of my hair, the slight pain a welcome distraction, and paused my pacing to call for the one being who couldhopefullydeliver some answers.

“Zaheera.”