The King (Black Dagger Brotherhood #12) - J.R. Ward Page 0,3

in her eyes. And then her mouth opened itself, words jumping out. “My lord, you should not kneel.”

“How ever else would I greet a female such as yourself?”

Anha tried to respond, but caught up in his gaze, her mind became entangled—he seemed not real, this powerful male who bowed his honor afore her. To be certain once and for all, her hand lifted and moved to close the distance between them …

Whate’er was she doing? “Forgive me, my lord—”

He captured her palm and the impact of the flesh upon flesh made her gasp. Or was that both of them?

“Touch me,” he commanded. “Anywhere.”

As he released his hold, she placed her trembling hand upon his cheek. Warm. Smooth from a blade’s recent passing.

The King closed his eyes and leaned in, his great body shuddering.

When he just stayed as that, she felt a surge of power—not in an arrogant fashion, nor with any ambition for self-gain. It was simply from unexpected footing gained on what had seemed like an indelibly slippery slope.

How was this possible?

“Anha…” he breathed, as if her name were an incantation of magic.

Naught else was spoken, but the whole of their language was unnecessary, all parts of speech and vocabulary rendered worthless to offer any mere nuance, much less definition, to what bond was shaping and tethering them one to another.

She finally dropped her eyes. “Would you not care to see more of me?”

The King released a low growling purr. “I would see all of you—and looking would not be the half of it.”

The scent of a male’s arousal rose thick in the air, and incredibly, her own body responded to the call. But then again, that sensual aggression of his was well and truly bound by his singular will: he was not going to take her the now. No, it appeared that he was going to save her virtue until he had paid her the honor and respect of properly mating her.

“The Scribe Virgin answered my prayers in a miraculous way,” she whispered as she blinked through tears. All those years of worry and wait, the anvil poised for three decades to fall upon her head …

The King smiled. “If I had known a female as you could exist, I would have beseeched the mother of the race myself. But I had no fantasies—and that is well enough. I would have done naught but sit and wait for you to cross into my destiny, wasting years.”

With that, he burst up to his feet and went over to a display of robing. The colors of the rainbow were all represented, and she had been taught since an early age to know what each hue meant in the hierarchy of court.

He chose the red for her. The most valued of all, the signal that she would be the favored amongst all his females.

The queen.

And that honor should have been enough. Except as she envisioned the many he would take, pain struck in her chest.

As he came back toward her, he must have sensed her sadness. “What ails you, leelan?”

Anha shook her head, and told herself that sharing him was not something she had any right to mourn. She—

The King shook his head. “No. There shall only be you.”

Anha recoiled. “My lord, that is not tradition—”

“Am I not the ruler of all? Can I not decree life and death o’er my subjects?” When she nodded, a hard cast came upon his face—and made her pity any who would try to deny him. “So I shall determine what is and is not tradition. And there shall only be you for me.”

Tears sprang anew to Anha’s eyes. She wanted to believe him, and yet that seemed impossible—even as he wrapped her still-clad form with the blood-colored silk.

“You honor me,” she said, staring into his face.

“Not enough.” With a quick turn, he stalked across to a table that had been laid with gems.

The largesse of jewels had been the last thing on her mind as he had lifted her hood, but now her eyes widened at the display of wealth. Surely, she did not deserve such things. Not until she gave him an heir.

Which abruptly seemed not a chore, a’tall.

As he returned unto her, she inhaled sharply. Rubies, so many she couldn’t count them—indeed, a whole tray … including the Saturnine ring which she had been told had always graced the hand of the queen.

“Accept these and know my truth,” he said as he once again lowered himself at her feet.

Anha felt her head