Page 4 of Princess (Marinah and the Apocalypse #5)

Marinah

After cleaning my plate, I reached for more. King, ever patient, rarely interrupted before I went for seconds.

"How are you feeling this morning?" he asked.

I chewed, swallowed, and shot him a flat look. "Grouchy."

King smirked but didn’t press. Instead, he leaned back slightly, his gaze assessing as he speared a piece of food with his fork.

"Why do you think the Federation hasn’t made contact concerning Lesley?" I asked.

His eyes darkened. "The only thing that makes sense is that she’s an insignificant loss to them."

"I agree," I muttered, rubbing my temple. "She’s our burden now."

King’s expression went even darker. "She doesn’t need to be. I have no problem putting her out of our misery."

He wasn’t smiling because he wasn’t joking.

King had a stark, black-and-white view of our post-apocalyptic world.

You were either useful, someone in need of protection, or you were a threat.

And threats? He eliminated them without hesitation.

It was one of the many things that made him a dangerous, effective leader.

I doubted he would ever change, even though I was now the boss.

His solution, oddly enough, made me smile again.

"You like the idea too," he said, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

My lips twitched. "No, I like that you like the idea. Big difference."

His brow furrowed slightly. "There’s a huge difference," he muttered.

I reached across the table, placing my hand over his, feeling the warmth and strength beneath my fingers. "If my idea doesn’t work, you may get your chance."

His usual frown returned. "Do I want to know what your idea is?"

I squeezed his hand and gave him a slow, knowing smile. "You’ll see."

King’s gaze narrowed. "Said the spider to the fly."

"My, how well-read you are, my mate," I teased.

His lips twitched, and instead of answering, he lifted my hand, pressing a lingering kiss to the backs of my fingers. The heat of his mouth sent a ripple of warmth through me, just like always.

"I read to our child every night," he murmured. "I’m becoming educated along with her."

That pulled a genuine laugh from me.

There was nothing wrong with King’s education.

He hadn’t been raised in the traditional sense.

He was pulled from public school before puberty because male Shadow Warriors started shifting young, and that kind of transformation wasn’t something you could explain away in a human classroom.

His mother had abandoned them the moment she realized what her husband and son truly were.

But his father hadn’t neglected his education. If anything, he had been ruthless about it.

King rebelled hard against his Warrior side, wanting nothing more than to be an ordinary adolescent.

His father brought his Uncle Greystone to set him straight.

Greystone trained him for war and forged him into a weapon.

But he also believed in books, in knowledge, in strategy beyond brute force.

He made sure King’s mind was just as sharp as his claws.

Both his father and Greystone were dead now.

As were my parents.

That left us.

King had led the Shadow Warriors for years.

Then, I went Nova, an even bigger monster than my Beast, and the burden of leadership fell into my lap.

It hadn’t been easy, and I was still adjusting.

But pregnancy had given me an unexpected advantage.

My temper had become legendary, and very few people dared stand up to me now.

King had somehow become the calm one in our relationship.

Most importantly, he kept me from dismembering my friends.

I hadn’t known I was a Shadow Warrior until I almost died from a hellhound bite. That bite had changed everything.

All Shadow Warrior and human bodies were burned after death until only ash remained. We didn’t want to know what the GMO formaldehyde would do to Shadow Warriors. It was possible it would have no effect, but we couldn’t be sure and couldn’t take that chance.

The Federation had taken hellhound horror a step further.

They were injecting living humans directly with the same modified protein that had caused all the problems. That left people with two options: fight for the Federation or become mindless killing machines.

The Federation killed the men and women instantly if they made the wrong decision.

I exhaled and set my fork down, rubbing my belly absentmindedly.

"I’m full," I said with a sigh.

King pushed another plate toward me. "There’s more if you want it."

I shook my head. "I swear, you want me fat," I grumbled.

His eyes softened. "There is no fat on you. Just a very round belly. Your body needs more calories than mine, and you know it."

I rolled my eyes but didn’t argue. He wasn’t wrong.

“Don’t worry,” I replied. “I’ll eat another full meal in a few hours.” I had put off the coming altercation long enough. “Do you want to enter the black widow’s den with me?”

His expression changed to revulsion. “Not unless you need me, but I’ll walk with you until we hear her screams,” he said seriously.

“Wow, so magnanimous,” I praised.

“That’s me, your magnanimous king.”

I laughed.

He stood quickly and took my hand to help me stand from the chair. I would swear our son already weighed fifty pounds.