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I gulped, forcing myself to meet his gaze once again.
“Yes,” I replied in barely above a whisper.
“Good,” he said finally, his tone dismissive. “You will need your strength for what lies ahead.”
He studied me for a moment, his eyes searching mine, as if looking for something hidden deep within. For a long while, he said nothing at all and I held my breath.
Without another word, he pushed himself up out of the bed and padded across the room. He was dressed in nothing but a pair of black briefs, so I got my first real good look at the king’s regal physique.
It was beautiful.
His back was broad and strong, tapering down to a narrow waist and a sculpted, round backside. As he moved, the muscles in his shoulders and arms flexed, rippling beneath his pale skin. His legs were long, muscular, and thick like tree trunks. There were even the faintest of scars that marred the otherwise flawless skin on his back, but that only seemed to add to his otherworldly air.
His chest was firm and well defined, with a hint of dark hair that trailed down his flat, chiseled abdomen to what I now knew lay beneath the fabric of his underwear.
I swallowed hard, remembering what it felt like when his cock hit the back of my throat, how I’d both hated it and loved it at the same time. I shook my head and pushed the thoughts away as quickly as I could.
I couldn’t let myself get distracted, not when this man was my enemy.
He turned slightly, catching me staring, and a smirk played at the corner of his lips.
“See something you like, little thief?” he asked, his voice a low, teasing rumble.
“Just sizing up my enemy,” I retorted, and he chuckled, which only made me clench my fists with defiance as anger flared deep in my belly.
“Oh? And what will you do when you figure me out?” he asked, cocking his head with interest. He moved closer to me, leaning over me as if to intimidate me.
“I’m going to kill you,” I snarled, and he laughed a little bit more openly now.
I was still wearing my boots.
In a flash, I slipped my hand down to my ankle and pulled out the knife hidden there. I pressed the blade up against his throat and instead of panicking, his expression remained calm, almost amused, and he lifted a single brow as if daring me to go through with it.
I stilled.
I should kill him right now. Kill him and be done with this whole mess. It would be so easy, just one quick movement, and this would all be over. But something stayed my hand.
Why couldn’t I do it? Why couldn’t I finish what I’d started?
My mind raced, searching for the answer. Was it fear? Fear of what might happen if I failed, or fear of the unknown that would follow if I succeeded? But deep down, I knew it wasn’t fear that held me back. It was something else, something far more complicated, something I didn’t want to think about any more than I had to.
I waited too long.
He reached up and grabbed my wrist, twisting it hard enough to make me drop the knife. With his other hand, he wrapped his fingers around the hilt and tossed the blade aside.
My chance to kill him in cold blood was long gone.
As he rolled off me, I lifted my chin as haughtily as I could and gritted my teeth. My one free hand pulled the sheets up, covering my nakedness as much as I could. When he saw me, he smirked even wider, clearly amused by my bashfulness after everything that had already happened between us.
A knock at the door interrupted the tension brewing, and a servant entered, carrying a tray laden with food. The Dark King gestured for the tray to be placed on the table, and the servant quickly complied before bowing and exiting the room. He reached up and unlocked the cuff around my wrist and I quickly pulled it in close to my chest, cupping it and wiggling my fingers as I watched him warily.
He approached the table and began arranging the items with surprising care. I watched him, a bit suspicious, but I didn’t say anything, not sure of what to do next. My stomach growled loudly enough to hear, and he gestured at me to come to him.
“Come. Eat,” he said, his tone soft, almost gentle.
I hesitated, rubbing my wrist, but the aroma of the food was too tempting to resist. The tray was filled with an assortment of delicacies: fresh bread still steaming from the oven, slices of ripe fruit, cheese, and a bowl of porridge topped with honey and nuts. My stomach growled again, reminding me of how long it had been since I’d had a decent meal.
I was hungry, so very hungry. I needed to eat.
