Page 64 of In the Mouth of the Wolf (Of Wolves and Kings #1)

64

EZRA

T he guards pounded their staffs on the ground in unison and the heavy doors swung open, their gilded edges shimmering. The air inside the throne room was thick with magic, blurring the edges of your vision in a way that made it feel like you were in a dream. I had never fully gotten used to it, no matter how much time I spent in his court.

Courtiers lounged along the peripheries on ornate, overstuffed couches and chaises. Their bodies were made in every shape and color imaginable, each more feral and yet more beautiful than the last.

A male with chartreuse skin and a square jaw, great tusks like a boar jutting up from his mandible, fucked another male from behind, his gaze following me as his thrusts increased in power. The male beneath him had papery wings that fluttered with pleasure against his aqua blue skin, stroking his cock while a female sitting beside him had her tails lazily wrap around his antennae, rubbing them in sync with his hand.

Across the room, a gray-skinned fae female, with hair and eyes as dark as obsidian, sucked the cock of a satyr-like creature, his horns curled and legs covered in thick hair. He watched me as I passed, drinking me in.

Three fae females sat on another couch, hair as white as snow and skin in various shades of pink, their sharp fangs exposed as they laughed and beckoned me. “When are you going to knot us, alpha? Give us a taste!”

I ignored them, used to their flagrant desire, and continued my long walk towards the throne, my bare feet padding along the floor.

I couldn’t remember the last time I had worn clothes, but it didn’t bother me. Nudity no longer brought me shame, and my shifter body rarely felt cold.

The fae king lounged on his golden throne with languid grace, his own gaze sharp and appraising as I approached. His long silver hair flowed like a river of moonlight, his aqua eyes sparkling against his marble skin.

His features were delicate, but I’d made the mistake only once in thinking it meant weakness. His lack of scars was a testament to his ability to destroy without effort.

A crown of twisted golden vines glowed softly on his head, its partner waiting on the empty seat beside him.

I sank to my knees and bowed.

“What news do you bring me of my beloved?” he asked, his voice low and smooth.

I rose to my feet, clasping my hands behind my back. The king’s eyes flickered briefly down towards my cock, and then back to my face.

“The blockage of magic has impeded her growth, but my sister’s powers have reawakened. I believe it’s only a short matter of time before she can cross,” I answered.

The king clapped his hands. “Excellent news, Ezra. And the vampyr threat?”

“Neutralized.”

“Good,” he replied. “Should they make another move against her, please take care of them. Those abominations have no sense of self-control and should be eliminated on sight. It will mean less work for us in the future.”

He stopped speaking, and I waited for my dismissal. But the king simply stared at me.

Unease, suffocating and slick like oil, filled my veins. The room seemed to darken under the strain of his full attention. Finally, I cleared my throat. “Is there anything else, Your Majesty?”

He sighed, the weight on my chest lifting. “I’ve just been thinking of my beloved. It really isn’t fair that your parents sought to keep you and her away from me. Tell me, did they suffer?”

I closed my eyes, recalling their final moments. The stink of their fear had clung in my nostrils for weeks, and the echoes of their cries, begging for forgiveness in their final moments still rang in my mind.

I’d resented them like hell for what they’d done to Marlowe and me, but killing them had still been painful.

I couldn’t let the king know that, however. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

He nodded, looking at the rings that adorned his pale hands. “And her pack – a necessary evil for the moment, I’m afraid. When the time comes, will you make sure they suffer too?”

I bit my cheek, hesitating for a moment. Their deaths were even less deserving. As far as I knew, they hadn’t wronged me in any way, and my sister cared for them deeply. They reminded me of the types of males I would have been friends with if our parents hadn’t kept our true identities a secret.

Would Marlowe ever forgive me for what was to come?

“Yes, I guarantee it.”