Chapter 190 Chapter 189
He froze for half a heartbeat, then exhaled through his nose, a low laugh escaping him. “Fair.” He leaned back, resting on one elbow, watching her in that way that always made her pulse stutter and heart race.
They ate slowly, the quiet punctuated only by the clink of goblets and the low crackle of the fire. Between them, a comfort began to bloom. Strange, awkward, but real.
Afterwards, they made out, and this time, Xenon fingered her, watching as she came undone on his fingers—the sight marvelous as ever. She fell asleep instantly, completely sated, and he placed her back on the bed, watching as she slumbered, his gaze fixed on the steady rise and fall of her chest. Her scent still clinging to his body, Xenon suppressed a groan, rubbing his forehead.
All of this would just force his rut to come in sooner and make it more unforgiving than it used to be. He hoped she could handle it, especially now that every part of him had taken a liking to her. Leaning in to kiss her temples, he watched her eyelids flutter, adjusting her body so she could settle deeper into sleep.
I pray when the time comes, I don’t hurt you too much.
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Rayena woke up a while later and discovered she was alone in the king's chambers. She looked around to see a note placed on the bedside table and moved to reach it. She learned he'd left for a council meeting and would be returning late; it would be best for her to leave the chambers before he returned since their "lesson" was done.
As much as she didn’t want to, Rayena also knew it was an order and it would be best to obey. She dragged herself out of bed, put on the flimsy gown, and donned the robe she'd discarded earlier—folded neatly now. Her body didn’t feel like hers yet, but she knew she would be fine. Striding out of his chambers, she didn’t stop until she’d reached hers, closing the door behind her.
She broke into a squeal then, jumping around the room in sheer excitement. The king had ruined her for other men, that’s for sure. But as the excitement faded, the questions came. Why had he frozen like that the first time? Why was he so worried about his rut? And with this new development in their relationship, what would it mean for the both of them?
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Xenon returned from the court meeting late into the night, furious and boiling over in rage. Slamming his chamber door behind him, he swiftly turned around, drove his fist into the wall, and emitted an anguished roar that shook the walls.
He had suspected the reason for the meeting on his way there, but it still didn’t make it hurt any less. As usual, it was about him being unmated and without an heir. Both clans had reached the end of their patience, and the werewolf nobles were rallying for him to be impeached so they could place someone of their own liking who could lead the realm.
They had already found someone to replace him and were now rallying for support. The few weretiger nobles who would have stood up for him had kept mute, clearly overpowered. That’s how deep their hatred for him ran. It didn’t help that he kept refusing the females who had been offered to him, refusing to make any queen, letting them waste away in the harem.
Thank goodness for self-control. He should have given in to the rage of his tiger while in that damned hall and ripped them to shreds. They didn’t deserve to live after the vitriol they spouted in that meeting. Heaving, he waited for his hammering heart to settle, ignoring the strikes of his tiger to rage, kill, and destroy, while his wolf whimpered in rejection and pain, tail tucked away as it hid in the recesses of his mind.
Tears burned his eyes, but he blinked them back, clenching his jaw too hard to suppress the growl building in his throat. Another fist to the wall; he banged his head against the stony surface, feeling the warm trickle of blood run down his face. Only then did he get a semblance of control, his body trembling incomprehensibly.
Still, their words filled his head, adding to the noises clamoring in his skull. So many of them had called him incompetent. Didn’t they know he was trying hard? Couldn’t they understand how hard it was to lead a realm as unruly as them? He scoffed, the action bitter. They could care less; after all, he brought this upon himself.
“Damned scoundrels!” he gritted through clenched teeth, fingernails digging into his skin as he clenched his fists.
Suddenly, he felt very, very exhausted. Slumping to the ground, he heaved a breath, his eyes bleak. Maybe he should just let them win. He was already tired of this hellish life.
So very tired.