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It’s all pretty simple to me. “All that matters is what we need her to do for us and that we have a tight deadline that we need it done by. If she can’t tell us what’s causing the illness by tomorrow, I think we need to switch up our method of dealing with her.”
The tension that snaps the air isn’t unexpected, but the intensity of it is.
Arlys shakes his head. “We’re not torturing her.”
My gaze locks with his. “Do you want to know what it feels like to lose another parent?”
He stands. Rinan is between us pushing him back into his seat. Damn it. I went too far. I knew it the moment the words left my mouth, but I can’t take them back now.
Arlys’s words hold a growl. “You’re not the only one who has known loss, Drogo. There can only be so many times where we excuse your shitty behavior before you run through our patience.”
I don’t lower my head – an alpha never submits – but I give a little nod. “Understood.”
Rinan sits back on the edge of his chair. “Torture is out of the question.”
“Forever?” I ask, raising a brow. “Will you just watch your people die while she flutters her long lashes and looks at you with those perfect brown eyes?”
“Perfect?” he asks, a slight smile dancing across his lips.
Shit. “Ugly. Those ugly eyes.”
He shakes his head, grinning. “We will work with her to figure out the illness, and we will not expect miracles from a mere witch.”
Arlys drains his glass. “If we sense she’s playing with us, we’ll have another discussion. But for now, we work with her, not against her.”
“That means no hurting her, emotionally or physically,” Rinan clarifies, as if he has to.
The clock tower chimes, indicating that it’s ten o’clock at night. Both men glance in my direction, and I get the feeling they think I’m too chicken to complete my duties.
I force myself to drain the rest of my scotch. Sorry, fellas, I can handle one little witch. I’ve got to man my post in Tara’s bed. To keep our agreement to the king. Regardless of how much the thought angers me.
“Be nice to her,” Arlys warns me, in a voice that reminds me of his father. “We agreed on this path together. She’s willingly helping us, so don’t fuck it up by hurting her. She’s our only hope.”
A few minutes of torture, and I bet that witch would give us everything we need.
“Tell me, princes, how many kind witches have you encountered? How many witches have our men met on the battlefield who had kindness in their hearts?” When they don’t answer, I smirk. “Exactly. Zero. They don’t do that, so Princess Tara doesn’t deserve kindness from us.”
I turn to leave the room.
“Don’t hurt her, Drogo!” Rinan yells at me, and this time he sounds a little angry.
Instead of answering, I slam the door.
As I make my way down the hall, my mind is a storm of thoughts. All I feel is rage. Rage that a witch is currently my bride. Rage that my two best friends are siding with this witch over me. Rage that my brothers died, and I couldn’t save them. Rage that my heart feels so shredded to bits that sometimes it hurts to breathe.
She did this. She did all of this to me.
I reach her door, just down the hall from Arlys’s room, and lift my fist to knock, but gentlemen knock on doors for ladies. This fucking witch is the furthest thing from a lady, and I’m no fucking gentleman.
Throwing open the door, I freeze. Tara stands fully naked, with her arms over her head, about to put her nightgown on. Her perfect pillowy tits are in my full view. Her pussy is right in front of my eyes.
My cock instantly hardens. Desire like nothing I’ve experienced in my life urges me to kneel down and taste her. Maybe I could. Just part her. Just a few licks.
I suck in a breath and close the door as quickly as I opened it, catching a glimpse of her shocked face as I do so. My heart’s racing for reasons I can’t explain. There’s a thrumming in my blood that I’ve never felt before, something stronger than desire, and it scares me.
What is it with this woman? Magic? It must be.
Pressing my hand against the door, my legs shaking, I say, “Let me know when you’re dressed.”
