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TWENTY-ONE

King Destin

“Ah, I can always rely on you for a satisfying evening. Lady Grey.”

He took a long draught of fire whiskey and eyed the decanter with the remaining amber spirits glinting from the light in the fireplace. He reclined on his chair, stretching his toes toward the flames, and sighed contentedly. “Really, there’s nothing better than a few hours with a good woman to put me at ease.”

He glanced back at his bed, where a long-limbed beauty with disheveled hair smiled sleepily at him. Her hair was naturally blonde, but Destin had insisted on her dyeing it blue for the occasion. Whenever he ran his fingers through it, he’d imagined it belonged to Tempest, his future queen and bedmate. The image never failed to inspire passion. The fiery Hound was soon to be his .

“Anything to appease my king,” the woman said, shifting on the bed until she was sitting with her back against half a dozen silken pillows.

Destin laughed. That was true. Almost every woman in Dotae would do anything to appease him. But Tempest… She was his crown jewel.

She had taken his order to do anything she needed to do to reintegrate herself into the Talagan rebel group without a word of complaint. Though she was proud and confident and powerful, and the idea of sleeping with shifter scum was something she was clearly loathe to do, she’d accepted her king’s mission.

A woman determined to do her duty even if it killed her. A rarity among the breed.

His lip curled at the thought of her bedding a Talagan male. He knew it was unlikely that she would have slept with any of the rebels; that he had told her to use such means if necessary meant she would no doubt have been more determined than ever to complete the mission without resorting to such tactics. Destin was pleased that he knew how to manipulate his Lady Hound into doing his bidding.

Including into marrying him.

Her reaction to his proposal was telling enough.

He could see how conflicted Tempest had been about his offer of marriage. How she was terrified of him but just as equally intrigued. How she could see the advantages the position of queen would give her, while at the same time wondering if those advantages were worth it. Tempest was intelligent, capable, and calculating.

Which made the idea of breaking her all the more irresistible .

“Appease your king indeed,” Destin replied, slowly standing from his chair to make his way to the bed. “But it is, unfortunately, the last time you will please me in such a way. Soon I will be married to my little Hound.”

The woman pouted, her lush bottom lip quivering.

It occurred to Destin that he had not bothered to learn her name, though this was the fourth time he’d bedded her. Tiana, perhaps , or maybe Britta.

“I thought you took women to bed during your last marriage, Your Majesty,” she said, shifting over on the bed to make room for Destin. He sat down beside her. His bedmate batted her lashes and ran a finger up his arm. “I’m always willing to serve the Crown. If you’re tired of me, I’m sure I can become more creative to keep you satisfied.”

“Ah, but my Lady Hound is different,” he said, which was true. “It would pain me to sleep with another in her stead once we are married. I understand she believes in morality.”

“Ironic since she lives with men, no?” the woman crooned.

“I need her to be undeniably on my side for what’s to come, and sacrifices must be made, my beauty.” Destin lightly pushed on her shoulder.

She stretched out on his bed, a seductive smile on her lips. “What’s to come?” she purred.

His mouth split into a wide grin. “Why, war, of course.” He touched the tip of her nose with his fingertip, then ran it down over her lips, chin, and neck until it rested on the pulse at the hollow between her collarbones. “We will stamp out all resistance, and then, we will take the Fire Isles.”

“I—I assume it is for the good of the kingdom,” she replied, though her voice was uncertain. Destin moved his fingers to her shoulder and then her back, before sweeping back over her collarbone until his touch rested on the hollow at the bottom her neck once again.

Such fragile skin. Such a pitiful creature. Weak.

“Oh, it is for the good of some of us, all right,” he said, his grin turning feral. His fingers curled around the woman’s neck. She squirmed, her smile dimming. Leaning closer, he brushed his lips along her cheek and across her lips. He squeezed his fingers, and she gasped, the sound music to his ears. “You know the difference between you and a queen? It’s all in the fight. Queens are vicious and rare, you, however—” He lifted his head to stare down into her panicked gaze. “You are expendable, easy to break.”

“Y-Your Majesty!” she choked. “I c-can’t breathe.”

He gave her a tender smile. “I know. My spies have told me you’re not careful with information. You were warned, love.”

“I shall remain silent, I swear!” she wheezed.

“Silent, you shall be,” he murmured, admiring the way her face changed color, “though not through any choice of your own.”

He watched with sickening glee as the woman clawed at his hands, fruitlessly fighting for a life she was no longer in control of. God, it was a heady feeling, holding another’s life in his hands. After a minute or two, however, her attempts lost their strength, and her mouth grew slack. A few seconds later, there was nothing left in her pretty blue eyes but glassy, empty nothingness.

“Thank you for the satisfying evening,” he murmured, releasing the woman’s neck and getting up from the bed. “You took the edge off.”

He shook out his robe and returned to his fire whiskey without a second glance at the dead body he had left in his wake. He had more pressing matters to think about.

Like how to conquer his new queen.