Page 18 of Poisoned Kingdom (Secrets of Dagome #1)

Roksana

T he moment I opened the door, the warm, masculine scent of musk and lemongrass wrapped around me like a whispered promise. I paused, one hand still on the handle, eyes falling shut as I breathed it in and let it steady me.

‘He should bottle this,’ I murmured, a small smile tugging at my lips as the fragrance stirred something deep and strangely comforting. My pulse eased.

A shape stirred on the bed at the soft creak beneath my foot as I walked farther into the room. I went still, breath caught in my throat, until he settled again.

This was the challenging part.

I had to wake the king and convince him I wasn’t there to end his life before he ended mine by mistake.

My hand gripped the sleeping powder, just in case he wasn’t receptive, before I touched the fae lantern beside the bed to gradually brighten it.

Men of the sword were dangerous beasts to wake, so I did my best to avoid startling him.

The plan had seemed perfect in my head, but he continued sleeping, the muscles in his neck tensing as he whispered something in his dreams. I waited, but relying on the light to wake him didn’t seem to be working, so I reluctantly bent down and softly placed a hand on his arm, turning him to face me.

‘Wake up, Your Majesty,’ I whispered in a gentle tone, holding the powder ready.

At that, the king finally jerked awake, grabbing me by the neck and throwing me onto the bed. Startled, the sleeping dust fell forgotten from my hand as I caught sight of his face.

‘Gods . . . It’s you!’ I gasped, the words tumbling from my mouth as my eyes locked onto a face contorted into a dazed, hungry expression.

His mouth crashed against mine in a kiss so fierce it stole my ability to think, and I moaned helplessly as his lips devoured me. The possessiveness of the kiss, the single-minded focus with which he took me, was . . . deliciously insane. No one had ever kissed me like this.

No one had dared.

His beard tickled my skin while his tongue pressed insistently against my lips, and I let him in.

The War King was a man who took what he wanted, and he caged me under his body while still protecting me from being crushed.

My pulse thundered in my ears, fear dissolving into a forbidden ache I had no business feeling.

My hips rose instinctively, and through the thin barrier of our clothes, I felt the friction of his hard length pressing against me.

The sensation sobered me up.

No, this is wrong!

Acting on that single thought, I bit his lip as hard as I could, grabbing an empty potion bottle from beside his bed and smashing it on his temple. He reared back just enough for me to scramble away and bolt for the door.

But gods, was he fast.

Before I knew it, he’d grasped my shoulder and spun me around, slamming my back into the wall. Whether it was the play of light or my imagination, his eye seemed to blaze with a golden glow as he towered above me, cutting off my escape.

‘You aren’t a dream.’

Bewildered, his gaze darted over every inch of my face, searching for . . . something.

Had he been dreaming of me? I hadn’t finished the thought when he shook me like a rag doll.

‘You aren’t a fucking dream!’

The golden halo around his iris shone brighter, its glow hypnotising me as it grew, filling his eye with pure, unbridled rage.

‘How are you alive?’ I whispered, shocked.

He smirked, licking his bloody lip, hissing as he probed it. ‘So eager to make me bleed again?’ he asked, wiping the blood and smearing it on my lips. ‘Here, have a taste, Viper. Is that why you came here? To finish the job?’

My heart hammered against my ribs as I stood there gaping, unable to believe my eyes.

The man I’d killed was standing before me, dressed only in silk trousers. Tall and imposing, his massive body strained against some unseen force, while the wolf-like focus in his eye turned him into a savage predator.

And I was his prey.

‘Answer me!’ he snarled. ‘Did you come here to finish the job?’

I bolted, instinct taking over, but he lunged after me, his movements a blur.

I didn’t stand a chance—not even Irsha was as fast as him.

He wedged his knee between my thighs while he locked his hand around my throat as I struggled in his grasp.

He leant down to whisper in my ear, the rough scar on his cheek rubbing across my skin.

‘Do you know how many nights you’ve haunted my dreams?

To have you in my grasp, helpless, knowing all it would take is a one firm squeeze and I would end this torment .

. .’ He trailed his nose over my skin as his hand flexed on my neck.

‘And yet it doesn’t feel like enough. Your death is not enough for the pain you’ve caused me. ’

He pushed his leg forward, forcing my legs further apart while he observed my efforts to free myself with that satisfied smirk.

‘I searched my entire kingdom for you, and here you are, uninvited. Do you think you have any hope of escape?’ The look in his eye made me shiver. ‘If you want to live, then you’ll answer my questions,’ he said, tilting my chin high. ‘Every. Single. One of them.’

Like I believe his offer when all I see is death lurking in his gaze.

I cursed the fear threatening to overwhelm me.

He shifted, his muscled thigh rubbing between my legs, causing an unexpected jolt of pleasure, adding embarrassment to the mix. A whimper escaped me.

Gods, why the fuck am I even aroused by this?

‘Stop it,’ he growled, his hand tightening on my throat.

‘Stop what?’ I wanted to ask but couldn’t.

The pressure of his grasp increased, and I clawed at his fingers, desperate to breathe. I got in one lucky kick and his hand relaxed. With a pained gulp, I dragged in enough air to speak.

‘Please . . .’ I wheezed, reaching for his face. He caught my hand, but the glow in his eye dimmed a little, and I could breathe again.

‘Already begging for mercy? Yet what mercy did you show me? Look at my face .’

The pain in his voice was so visceral that my gaze drifted to the injury I had caused.

He laughed humourlessly. ‘Are you pleased with your handiwork, Viper? Tell me—give me a reason I shouldn’t kill you right now.’

Pushing words through my tight throat was painful, but I didn’t have a choice. ‘I’m not . . . your enemy,’ I said.

‘Really? Then I’d hate to see what you do to your friends.

’ He huffed in disdain, his hand again tightening on my neck, but he seemed to be more in control of himself.

The vicious snarl abated, replaced by steel in his voice when he asked, ‘Do you fear death, little Viper? Because I still remember how it felt, teetering on the edge of madness, praying for the strength to endure as I carved out my eye.’

He . . . did that to himself?

That explained why he was still alive, but I’d never known a man capable of such an act.

‘I know . . . who wants . . . you dead . . .’ I managed to force out, my throat throbbing within his grasp. The king’s frown grew deeper as he studied me with suspicion.

‘Fine. Talk. Tell me, then, assassin, who wants me dead? No. First, tell me your name.’

He released my throat then, only to catch my wrists. My relief was short-lived as he pulled both arms above my head. One large hand easily held them down, while his other forced my head up. He was so close that I could smell the blood drying on his lips.

‘I want the truth, Viper. If you lie . . . your death won’t be swift or merciful, and I’ll personally enjoy your suffering.’

But are you ready for the truth? I thought. I’m dead, anyway, if you can’t accept it. The uncertainty of my fate, my reaction to his touch, and most of all, his arrogance, awakened a spark of defiance within me.

‘I’m Roksana Regnav,’ I croaked. ‘Let me go, and we can talk.’

The giant stretched my arms up farther, making me whimper again, and his low, foreboding laugh sent a shiver down my spine.

‘How about . . . no?’ he said, his eye narrowing as he watched me struggle, the muscles beneath his skin twitching. ‘Don’t think for a second you can make demands. Now, tell me . Who sent you to kill me in the forest?’

I hated how my body trembled in his grasp, betraying my weakness, but because of that, I felt the anger at his constant accusations get the better of me.

‘Nobody, but I wish I’d killed you! Should I ask you what you were doing in that forest, forcing yourself onto a helpless woman?

What is it—you like hunting peasant girls for sport?

Do you like taking them kicking and screaming?

’ I asked. ‘You’re supposed to be a fucking war hero?

’—I laughed—‘You’re no different to a beast, fighting over the right to rape me first.’ The memory I’d buried deep in my mind resurfaced, and a sneer twisted my features.

‘Go on, King Reynard. Show me the kind of man you really are.’

His eye narrowed to a slit, but the words had tumbled out before I could stop them.

I was done. I knew it.

A vein pulsed in his neck as he drew back his free hand, fingers balling into a fist. I turned away, squeezing my eyes shut, waiting for the blow to land. I almost laughed at the utter mess my life had become, but I promised myself that whatever happened next, I wouldn’t cry or beg.

Only—the blow never came, and I slowly turned my head forward again, cracking an eye open.

He stood there, legs spread, panting like a wild animal, a deep frown marring his features.

His fist tightened and opened rhythmically.

Noticing my gaze, he exhaled, and something shifted in his expression.

As if whatever monster lurked beneath his skin hid behind the ironclad facade.

‘I didn’t force myself on you . . . Is that why you disfigured my face?’

His words, or rather, the broken tone of his voice, gave me pause. This massive man was holding himself back despite my outburst. My anger flickered and died.

Had I misjudged him?

A sliver of hope blossomed within me, and I forced my body to relax in his grasp.