The Darkest Craving (Lords of the Underworld #10)(52)
Author: Gena Showalter

“I’ll take the punishment,” Kane called. A fight would be avoided, and he could force Tink to stay by his side.

The warriors would never try and take her so openly.

“He’s going to remove his shirt,” a female twittered.

“I know! It’s going to be glorious!”

Tink’s hands flattened on his back. “No, Kane. You can’t.” Her voice trembled with fear and upset. Ignoring her, the king pondered the suggestion for a moment. “You aren’t blood of Princess Synda’s blood,” he said to Kane. “Therefore, the exchange would not be acceptable.”

“Give Josephina to me, then. All of her. Now and forever. That kind of bond is as strong as blood, if not stronger.”

Blue eyes lasered at him, direct and piercing. “You are to have my daughter and none other. She is the only female worthy of you.”

One day, I’ll cut out his tongue. “If the princess is my female, she is my responsibility. Therefore I am to decide her punishments, correct? I am to see them through.”

The king stiffened. He knew he’d been caught in the web of his own rules. “Very well,” he finally said. “You may have the blood slave as well, and use her as she is meant.”

Knowing Tink was being placed in his care filled him with the greatest satisfaction he’d ever known. Enough to overshadow the only problem: he couldn’t save Tink from further abuse without wedding Synda.

“Thank you,” he said.

A nod of agreement. “I know better than most the power of an attraction for the wrong female—and that’s what you feel for Servant Josephina, isn’t it? If I take the girl away from you, you will want her even more. If I harm her, you will blame me. But if I give her to you, the yearning will quickly die.”

Kane held back a humorless laugh at the king’s ignorance. A yearning this strong couldn’t die.

“He wants a servant? A servant?” Scowling, eyes glowing bright red, Synda removed one of her shoes and chucked the thing at Kane’s head. He ducked just before contact. “You don’t deserve me!”

“Now, now, darling,” the king soothed. “Did you not hear me? The yearning will die.”

He could stay long enough to wed the princess, Kane thought, then place Tink in the care of his friends. They would protect her as fiercely as he would, knowing what she meant to him. The Fae would leave her alone. The Phoenix would leave her alone just as soon as Kane took care of her—which he still planned to do—and all of Tink’s problems would be solved now rather than later.

After the wedding, Tink would want nothing to do with him, of course, and he wouldn’t be able to blame her. But she would be safe, he reminded himself.

She would also be in confined quarters with Torin. And Paris.

Dark fury scraped at his chest.

And what about Synda? What was he supposed to do with her? He loved his friends too much to make them responsible for such a mercurial brat. But he definitely had no desire to keep her with him, wherever he went.

“Please, don’t do this,” Tink whispered to him. Her fingers clutched at his shirt in an effort to pull him down to her height. “I don’t want you harmed on my behalf.”

Her concern touched him deeply, placed him that much further under her spell. “I told you I wouldn’t allow you to be hurt, and I meant it.”

“Kane,” she said, sounding desperate now. “If you do this, I’ll be angry with you.”

“But you’ll still kiss me better.” He wasn’t married yet.

Kane stepped forward, and tugged his shirt over his head. Feminine twitters rose throughout the room, and he rolled his eyes. He reached back and pulled Tink as close to him as possible. A portable fire pit was wheeled in from the side door and left in the center of the room. In strode a male holding a branding iron. He stuck the rod into the burning coals, allowing the metal to heat. Guards approached Kane’s sides, intending to lock him in place. He shook them off and extended his arms.

“I won’t budge,” he proclaimed.

A nod from the king had the males backing down. Tiberius, Synda and Leopold leaned forward, each watching him, perhaps curious to know if he would keep his word.

“Kane,” Tink said, quivering palms pressing on his shoulder blades. Fear radiated from her. “Please don’t.”

Silent, he reached behind and wrapped his arms around her, twining his fingers together, caging her against his hard back. She rested her forehead against him, and he thought he felt the wet warmth of a tear trickle down his spine.

The suspicion rocked him. Undid him. Because it meant she cared for him. A care that went deeper than desire.

Don’t know if I can ever let her go.

The man lifted the rod, and steam curled from its end—a very large end shaped like a dragon. He approached Kane with hesitant steps.

“Do it,” Kane commanded.

“No,” Tink cried, violently shaking her head.

After a slight pause, the man jabbed the dragon into the center of Kane’s chest and held it steady. Flesh instantly sizzled and melted away. Far more pain than he’d expected slashed through him, the scent of overcooked meat overshadowed the fragrance of flowers. He wanted to gag. Instead, he seethed. These people had thought to do this to Tink’s delicate, beautiful body. Would have done it to her.

Disaster laughed as the man tried to remove the poker—and failed.

The metal had fused to Kane’s sternum.

As hard as the man continued to pull, the dragon refused to budge,

Gritting his teeth, Kane gripped the shaft of the rod and jerked with all of his might. Separation was finally achieved—but the rod took some of his bone with it. He dropped the thing with a thud. In and out he breathed, trying to regain his bearings. First thing he noticed—utter silence filled the throne room. Everyone was waiting for his reaction.

Used to pain, he lifted his chin and said, “Next order of business. I wish to spend time with the princess, getting to know my future…bride.” He had to keep her out of trouble. Had to do something to ensure she was tucked into bed without any more punishments thrown Tink’s—or his—way.

“Oh, Daddy, you were right!” A grinning Synda stood up before her father could reply, and skipped to Kane’s side, as if she’d never been angry, never tossed her shoe.

Tink ripped away from his hold.

He spun, tried to grab her. “You’re coming with us.”

Their gazes tangled in a heated clash. Hurt blazed from her, and he felt branded by the rod all over again.