Page 61 of Lethal King

Rian smiles.

Are those fucking dimples?

“Not bad for a few hours’ work,” he shrugs. “But that’s not even the best part. I—”

“How did you find me?” I interrupt. “I know for a fact that I covered my tracks.”

“You sure did,” Rian nods. “Under normal circumstances, finding you would have been a real challenge. But I couldn’t let my bride run too far from me. How would it look if you were late to our wedding?”

“I swear to fucking god.” Rational thought momentarily leaves my mind as I lift my gun and fire three quick shots at the hologram.

The bullets ricochet off the alley wall.

My ears start to ring.

“Easy there, cowgirl,” Rian chuckles. “You’re not in any state to run from the cops.”

“You better tell me what you’ve done to me,” I demand, internally begging he doesn’t start the vibrating again.

“I already told you. I marked you.”

“With what?”

“With a failed project.”

Rian is smiling again. Those blood-red lips curl up in the corners, revealing the subtlest dimples. How did I never notice those before? I’ve stalked him closely enough that I should have already known.

But here I am, playing catch up.

Now, he’s in the driver’s seat.

“I bet you have a lot of failed projects,” I snip.

“Only a few of which are ever true failures. Take this tracking device, for example,” he says, pointing down between my legs. “A soluble wax-filled nanotechnology that can dissolve into any liquid—whether that be water, booze, tears, cum…”

The revelation hits me like a mack truck.

“You put a fucking tracker in my pussy?”

“No,” Rian shakes his head. “I only just glazed your clit with it. An untraceable coating that’s seeped into your very flesh. The problem is, I’ve never had the time to perfect the concoction. At certain frequencies, the minerals inside start to vibrate. Knowing that, I can make them pulse at whatever rate I like… or whatever speed you’d enjoy the most.”

Suddenly, I feel a soft buzz return between my legs. My heart jumps in a panicked response, and I scramble onto my ass in a futile attempt to push myself away from the devilish image.

“You asshole,” I grumble, terrified at how vulnerable I am right now—yet oddly impressed with his ingenuity.

… And somehow strangely aroused.

“You aren’t the only genius in the underworld,” Rian replies. “And you definitely aren’t the only monster.”

“What the hell do you want?” I ask, feeling the hard brick of the alley wall hit my back. There’s nowhere to go. I’m trapped.

Fuck.

“I want my crown back,” Rian states. “Oh, and apparently, your brother took one of my sister’s paintings. I’d like that back, as well.”

Fucking Tytus.

“And if I refuse?”