Cold Queen - K Webster Page 0,31
you eaten today?”
The familiar way with which she fusses over me warms me. For so long, her caring words and actions were the only things that warmed me. Now, I have Ryke. Just thinking about him makes me burn inside.
“I am fine,” I assure her, beaming. “I’m feeling well. I ate quite a bit for breakfast.”
She leans in. “The tonics? You need them.”
“I’m feeling better. I don’t think I need them anymore. King Bloodsun’s physician is very talented. He’s healed me—”
“Here,” she cuts me off, reaching into the pocket on her dress and pulling out three small vials. “Take them. I refuse to let you perish because they think their physician is special. I’ve studied your condition. I know what you need, sister.”
Ryke stalks into the room and wrenches us apart, taking the vials from my hand. “Elzira won’t be needing these anymore.” He pockets them before glowering at Yanna. “Are you warm enough in here? Perhaps you should have given this room to the queen.”
Yanna stiffens and her hands ball into fists. “She needs the tonics.”
“Perhaps you’re not as knowledgeable as you think,” he challenges. “For you thought you were deathly allergic to sichee crawlers and were just sure the spores were in all the chimneys. And yet…” His gaze drifts to the fire. “I’ve yet to see one.”
“What are you saying?” Yanna huffs, clearly insulted by his words.
“Your sister is safe with me,” is all he says, turning to regard me. “Come, Queen. We have to plan for battle.”
“Battle?” Yanna cries out. “It’s not safe. Elzira, you can’t go into a battle. You’re not well.” Heavy tears well in her eyes and spill out. “Please don’t leave me. You’re all I have left.”
My chest aches and I swallow down the emotion. “You mustn’t worry over me. I’m The Punisher of The Damned. They need me in this battle.”
“Please,” she begs. “Your illness is fickle. What if it strikes when you need to be strong?”
Ryke snakes a possessive arm around my waist, sending tendrils of desire crawling through me. “Then I will be strong for her.”
I take Yanna’s hand and squeeze it. “This will all be over soon,” I assure her. But I hope it ends differently than I thought. I’m selfish enough to wish that I heal and Ryke takes me as his rather than my sister. Regardless, The Damned will be here before we know it. And either I’ll die, or I won’t. The end is most definitely near.
After we leave my sister’s room, Ryke hands over the tonics to Danser and leans in to give him an order. Danser slips away in an instant.
Fury ripples from Ryke and he grabs my hand roughly. I frown at him as he all but drags me back to my tower. As soon as the door closes, he releases me and stalks over to the fireplace. I cross my arms over my chest and watch as he takes his anger out on the logs. One by one he slams them into the fireplace as if they’re worthy of his punishment. As if beheading a servant wasn’t enough for one day. He slings his fist toward the logs and then they burst into a large flame that sends ripples of heat dancing across my skin. When he turns to regard me, he looks borderline evil. A dark glint in his amber eyes. A sinister smile curling up one side of his lips. His dark hair is in disarray and an unruly lock drops over his brow.
He prowls my way, his expression unreadable. The moment he reaches me, he tugs off his cape that’s around me and sends it to the floor before his hands grip my waist. His lips slam to mine in a punishing way that has me gasping for air. I slide my palms up his chest, locking my fingers behind his neck. He starts yanking up my dress with one hand and lifts my bottom with the other. I cry out when he pins me hard against the stone wall. Our eyes meet the moment his erection grinds into me. He reaches between us to unfasten his trousers and to take hold of his cock. I moan when he barely presses his hardness into my sore sex. My fingernails dig into the flesh behind his neck in a threatening way.
“I need to be inside you,” he growls, his lips brushing along my jaw to my ear. “But you’re not ready, are you?”
I whimper when he nips at my