Page 125 of To Scale the Emerald Mountain

It’s all wrong.

Swallowing down the instinct within me screaming to be surrounded by leather and salt, to only be touched by the caring hands made for me, I offer him a forced smile.

Twirling a piece of lilac hair in my fingers, I try to ignore the fact that he’s nothing special. Just attractive enough, with a boyish face and matching boyish grin. He brings his face nearer to mine and nuzzles my hair before sticking the tip of his tongue against my ear. It’s slimy and abrasive. I cringe, my muscles seizing, and I fight to keep the grimace off my face.

As soon as the stranger’s wet flesh meets my skin, there’s a loud commotion outside the door. My gaze turns towards it.

My heartbeat quickens as a dominating presence seeps into the atmosphere—the shine of Alec’saura—before his foot connects with the door. He kicks it in with force, making it bang against the wall.

My mouth drops, and my eyes widen.

Alec’s taking up the entire doorway, wearing his typical attire of all black and an expression of utter fury. My shock mounts when I see the amount of weapons he’s wearing, both swords strapped to his back and multiple daggers sheathed across his entire muscled body. He’s exuding absolute rage; the tang of it coats my throat and makes me tremble.

Alec’s eyes land on me, draped in another man with his tongue in my ear. His expression turns dangerous, deadly, before unsheathing a dagger in a blur of motion and throws it with expert precision.

The blade sings through the tiny fraction of space between the nameless man’s nose and my cheek, barely a flash of silver, before sinking into the wall.

The man pulls his face away, his tongue rolling back into his mouth.

“My king!” a few people exclaim in near unison before everyone in the room drops to a deep bow. Everyone except me and the man—who may have returned his tongue to his mouth, but is still holding me in his arms.

The patrons gasp audibly.

They sense the bond between me and their king who has just kicked in the door to see his mate being groped and licked by someone else. The one in question’s color has drained, leaving his complexion a sickly green. Still, he doesn’t move.

“Get out,” Alec hisses.

Everyone moves quickly at the command. They work past him standing in the door with great difficulty, taking care not to touch him—his molten eyes never leaving mine.

The man touching me finally breaks out of his fear induced paralyzation. He begins to stand, but Alec shakes his head with a sneer, light bouncing off his dark hair. “Not you.”

I’m too stunned by his sudden appearance to say anything or move at all. A warm glow of satisfaction purrs around my heart at his show of possession.

The man sits back down and whimpers softly, making my skin crawl.

Alec gives the man a disgusted glare before turning to me with hurt and disbelief. “Really, Elly? You would desire for that to touch you? In a hundred lifetimes, he could never touch your worth.”

Alec turns back to the man, voice deadly again. “Are you particularly fond of having hands?”

“I’m sorry, my king. I didn’t know,” the man stammers.

Alec stalks towards him, a predator savoring the fear of his prey.

“Your king asked you a question.” His tone is calm and smooth, brushing over my skin like buttery rays of sun on a spring day.

A dark spot appears at the front of the man’s pants as he pisses himself.

“Yes, yes, my king. I like having hands.” The man is sobbing in earnest.

“Perhaps you should not touch what does not belong to you, lest you find yourself without them.” Barely a twitch is discernible above Alec’s eye, contradicting his calm demeanor.

In a blink, the crying man has pulled a dagger from a sheath at his thigh while laying his left hand on the green felt table. “Please, no!”

Alec stands, unmoving, as he watches the scene of his own making unfold with delight.

I leap to my feet just as the man swings the blade down, severing his own left hand at the wrist. He wails loud as blood spurts, splattering the table. He cradles the stump to his chest, spraying his chin with each pump of his heart.

“Alec!” I scream.