King of Me (The King Trilogy #3)(47)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

The room. He was taking me to the f**king room!

I fought, twisting my body and kicking my legs, but it was no use against a man like him. Effortlessly, he pinned me with his body and shackled my arms and legs so that my body formed an “X.” The man next to me groaned, his body growing pale as he bled out, and the head on the table stared with his wide blue eyes filled with pain and hate. Red and more red. I was certain this was it for me.

“Just kill me. Get it over with,” I said, finally understanding why Vaughn had preferred to die rather than be King’s torture toy.

“Why would I do that? I’d be missing the fun part. The part where you scream. I’m hard merely thinking about it.” He reached for my dress and tore it from my body.

“No!” I screamed, tugging as hard as I could on the restraints, but it was no use.

“Oh yes!” he said, laughing his words.

This can’t be happening. This can’t be happening.

Of course it can. You ran from him because of this. But I knew it was the curse driving him.

“I know the man I met in Crete is in there somewhere,” I said. “And I know he loves me.”

“He is not here right now, Mia. I am.” He smiled, and his malicious eyes swept over my body as if I were some prized kill. “You should have run when you had the chance.”

King walked over to the wall next to the doorway, where knives, large metal hooks, ropes, and chains hung.

Oh God. No. He reached for something, but his large body blocked the view. When he dropped the fabric draped over his shoulder, exposing his bare back, I caught a glimpse of red, crisscross striations on his skin.

Fucking shit.

He began flagellating himself.

My fear for my own safety quickly transitioned to revulsion while I witnessed this man beat himself. How it was possible—he was not truly alive, after all—or why, I could only guess. But I’d seen the marks on his back before. Only, after reading Hagne’s journal depicting the original version of this story, I had assumed she’d hurt him with her sharp nails when King had been with her.

Unable to watch, I turned my head.

“Is this what you want?” he yelled at no one, his back still to me. “I can go all night!”

Ohmygod. He’s losing it. King was completely consumed by whatever horrible things went on inside him.

“Stop! Just…stop,” I said.

“I cannot,” he replied and struck himself again. “I cannot let that f**king weak bastard of a king win. He thinks a tattoo will stop me, but it will not.”

Holy shit. King wanted to beat the goodness out of himself.

That man is a true king. He is strong and determined. He cared about his people. He would never give in to you or the curse. He would never hurt me. You are a demon. A tyrant. “You are not my king. You are nothing to me.”

His head whipped around, and for a fraction of a second, King’s eyes turned to a vivid blue.

Yes. He was still in there somewhere—that beautiful man I couldn’t help but love.

“I’m sorry for cursing you,” I said. “I’m sorry for turning you into this monster.”

Anger returned, and so did King’s dark eyes. He dropped his whip and reached for a dagger on the table. He studied it briefly and then rushed toward me, plunging for my chest.

I flinched and clamped my eyes shut, but there was no pain. Not even a tickle.

What the hell?

A sharp electrical jolt surged through my body, and I went from being chained to a cold stone wall, to lying naked, face down, on a soft bed, my wrists and ankles bound.

King’s heavy form lie on top of me.

My mind took a moment to process. Had I escaped the nightmare I’d been in only to return to another? The one I’d run from to begin with?

I screamed.

“Mia! It’s okay!” I heard a familiar voice yell—not King’s.

Someone pulled King’s body off, and he landed with a thump on the floor.

I twisted my head to see Mack flipping the free half of the sheet over my na**d body.

“Mack?”

“You’re okay,” he said, jumping to unstrap my ankles and then my wrists.

I took a moment to breathe and gather myself. My heart was about to explode.

“It’s okay, Mia. You’re safe now.” I felt Mack’s warm hand brush over the back of my head.

But how could I believe that? Nothing made sense, and I didn’t know what was real anymore.

“Mia? Speak to me. Tell me you’re all right.”

Slowly, I turned over, holding the sheet to my bare body. Though there was plenty of light from the torches, it was still pitch black outside. The sound of insects clicking and chirping surrounded us. Yes, I was back on King’s private island.

“Are you real?” I asked.

Mack’s big blue eyes drilled into me for one intense moment, and then he grinned—that warm, disarming, almost goofy smile. “In the flesh.”

Yes, I saw his light. Green—life—and blue—sorrow.

I slowly sat up and studied the limp figure on the floor. King lay there shirtless, wearing a pair of black jeans, his back to me and a dagger sticking from his neck. It was the same jeweled “sleeping” dagger I’d almost used to end my own life.

“What’s happening?” I asked.

Mack ran his hands through his messy blond hair. “We’re even, that’s what happened.”

“Even?” I asked.

“You saved my life. Now I’ve saved yours.”

I’d never saved Mack’s life. “But—but—I don’t follow.”

His eyes flashed toward King’s body. “Let’s just say that my brother isn’t going to be happy with me once this all shakes out.”

“Your brother…” My words faded away as my mind slid the pieces into place.

“Callias?”

He flashed a sly little grin.

“But how?” I asked.

“I’d love to tell you the full story, but the helicopter is waiting, and I really don’t want to spend another second on this island. It’s f**king creepy.”

He held out his hand, but I couldn’t move.

He grumbled something unintelligible under his breath. “Mia, all you need to know is that the Artifact wasn’t the first relic King encountered to raise the dead.”

I lifted one brow.

“Cleopatra had a necklace.”

“You’re joking.”

He shook his head. “He had to kill her for it. How do you think King got her blood?”