He landed on her captor’s colleague who went down with a wounded yelp.
Sonia, thinking vaguely that her fear was making her hallucinate, got one chance to look and saw a spray of blood spurting across the room before she was tossed again.
She flew through the air and fell down, the back of her head slamming against the corner of her bedside table. She felt a brief moment of pain and she heard a vicious snarl at the same time she could have sworn she heard the tearing of flesh.
Then everything went black.
Chapter Two
The Throne
Ryon walked into the throne room of the Territorial Mansion and he felt his jaw grow tight.
Desdemona sat on the throne on the dais, her dark, gleaming hair around her shoulders, her face fully made up, an honor guard of twelve flanking the back of the throne and down the steps of the dais.
She, at least, was smart enough to know if she wanted to try something it would take at least thirteen of them to bring him low.
However, she wasn’t smart enough not to appear unaware of their surprise visit.
Or there was the distinct possibility she was still panting for the opportunity to see Callum and she’d hastily thrown this circus together for his benefit.
Fuck, Ryon had called her only a half an hour before and she’d managed to pull together this show.
Stupid bitch.
He barely got two steps in the room before the entire guard dropped to a knee, fell forward on a hand and gazed at him, heads up.
Much more slowly, Desdemona gracefully alighted from the chair and she took her time moving a step to her left before she fell into the same ceremonial bow.
Ryon hadn’t seen her in years and she hadn’t changed. Haughty because of her high birth, conceited because of her extreme beauty and stupid because she just plain was.
She was lucky it was Ryon moving toward her. If Callum had seen that demonstration, he’d have her head and deserve it.
He might have it anyway and deserve it more.
Desdemona, daughter of Titium and Governor of the Western Territories of the Americas was about to learn that King Callum was not, at all, like the patient, generous, benevolent King McDonagh was.
Without a word, he walked up the steps of the dais, sat in the throne and muttered, “Rise.”
The guard and Desdemona took their feet.
She stepped down two steps and turned to him.
“Ryon,” she greeted familiarly and with anyone else but her, because he didn’t like her and with what was happening in her territory, Ryon might have allowed it.
Instead, he sensed the eyes of the guard, he’d never liked Mona and he knew the state of her territory therefore he clipped, “You forget yourself, Governor.”
He watched as her face grew pale, her mouth set hard and her eyes flashed.
Jesus, she was stupid.
He should strike her.
He didn’t. He wanted her brain functioning properly when he had a go at her.
He watched as she bowed her head and murmured, “Your grace.”
He let go her silent rebellion, threw his hand out and commented, “This is impressive. Half an hour ago, you didn’t know of the king’s imminent arrival.”