The King (Black Dagger Brotherhood #12)(128)
Author: J.R. Ward

“Not simple,” he said hoarsely. “That is not simple.”

The last thing he needed was another female he was obligated to wed: If Phury as Primale wanted him to follow through on this? What the hell was he going to do?

Especially because … he was falling in love with Selena.

As Trez stood naked on the far side of the room, Selena thought, Hmm, not what she’d been going for.

But she’d been right to keep quiet. At the last minute, she’d made a conscious decision not to tell him—for precisely this reason.

“How is— how— why…” The stuttering was not a good sign. “I thought you were an ehros.”

“I am.”

“So how are you a virgin?”

“I was not used in that manner.”

He threw his hands up in frustration. “Why me?” Abruptly, he cursed. “I mean…”

“As I said, I wanted to be with you. I still do.” After the strike of pain, she’d only gotten a hint of the pleasure—she wanted to know what else there was to making love.

Putting his head in his hands, he just stood there. “Christ.”

“Just so that we understand each other,” she said crisply, “I’m not expecting anything from you. If that’s what you’re worried about. There shall be no mating.”

Not with her future. Although with the way Trez was looking, that wouldn’t have been in the cards anyway—

“You sure your Primale will think like that?”

She kicked her chin up. “Who’s going to tell him.” When that seemed to stop him, she shrugged. “It shan’t be me. And no one else is in this house with us. So if you do not, he will never know.”

In truth, she wasn’t sure what Phury would do if he found out—technically, now that she’d had sex with someone other than the Primale or a Brother, she was fallen. But it was hard to know in these new times how much of the old ways survived.

Not that it mattered. Her time was coming due.

Which was why, when Trez had paused after noting her sex was tight, she’d taken matters into her own hands. She’d been determined to not lose her chance, especially not after that episode downstairs at the kitchen table.

Abruptly, she thought of the one he was bound to—and felt a lance of pain through her chest.

“Worry not,” she said with exhaustion. “There is nothing to be done.”

“I do have honor, you know,” he snapped.

“I mean no offense.”

He closed his eyes and muttered, “You shouldn’t be apologizing.”

“I fail to see the problem. My body is mine to give and I chose you—and you wanted me.”

At that, his lids rose. “I hurt you.”

“What was painful was that you stopped.”

Trez shook his head. “This is a mess.”

“According to whom?”

“You don’t know the half of it.” But at least he came over and sat on the bed. Putting his head back into his hands, he exhaled hard. “I shouldn’t have been the one, Selena. Anybody but me.”

“Again, don’t you think that’s a judgment only I can make?”

“But you don’t know me.”

“I know enough.” After all, he’d told her about the human women. His parents. His being tied to another. What else could there be?

“Nope. You don’t—”

A sound cut through the room, and it took a moment for her to realize it was a portable phone ringing.

“Are you f**king me,” he groused as he reached past her to the pillow. On it, a cellular device was sitting with its screen facing up, having clearly slid out of his pants pocket when they ended up on the headboard.

He checked the number—and then looked over to the clock. “What time is it—oh, shit.”

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“I’ve got to take this.” He glanced around as if looking for some privacy. “I’ll be right back.”

As she watched him go out into the hall, his naked body was resplendent—and just the sight of his backside was enough to get her assessing whether or not she’d ever get the chance to be with him again.

Closing her eyes, she stretched herself and found an ache in her pelvis that had never been there before.

Yes, it had hurt some. But not enough to make her regret anything—or not want to do it again.

Something told her it wasn’t in her future, however.

She should have said something to him.

But there was no taking that decision back.

FIFTY-THREE

In the end, Wrath signed the goddamn dissolution proclamation.

His mother’s ring on his pinkie finger was what made up his mind: That ruby was a symbol of Beth’s solemn vow to him and it made him think about everything his female had done for him. In order to mate him, she’d put her faith, her heart, her future in him and his people, traditions, customs—turning away from her human side entirely, to the point where she had no contact with that race anymore, nothing outside him and his brothers, his job taking over both their lives.

She had gained much, sure. But she had lost everything she had ever known. And she’d done it for him, for them.

Right now, the most important thing was not the throne. No, it was living up to the standard she herself had set: He needed to put his signature where his mouth was. Even though he hated this whole f**king thing, from the aristocrats and the Band of Bastards to the sense of loss that came with this piece of cocksucking paper, he had to honor what he’d told his Beth.

Her traditions were just as weighty and important as his own.

If he didn’t do this? He was treating her with the same disrespect the Council had.

And this was the most logical way to circumvent the glymera.

A nice little get-it-up-ya to their machinations.

“Where’s the pen?” he growled.

When Rehv put the thing in his dagger hand, he squeezed Beth’s palm. “Where do I do it?”

“Right here,” she said roughly. “Here.”

He let her lead the pen’s nib to where there must have been a line, and then he scribbled his name.

“What happens now?” he demanded.

Rehv laughed with a nasty edge. “I roll this little missive up and shove it where the sun don’t shine.” There was the rustling of parchment. “They called for the ‘crowning’ to happen at midnight. Fucking shame I have to wait until then. Come on, Saxton, you need some food. You look like you’re ready to collapse.”