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I accepted the garment, slipping it on and pulling the hood up.

Reyes nodded his approval once I was finished, molten eyes doing a slow sweep over me from head to toe.

“Shall we go?”

He offered me an arm I was reluctant to take; however, as with Toby, I knew to choose my battles wisely. Personal feelings needed to be placed on the back burner. Slipping my wrist through the space he made, I ignored the rush of contentment that flowed through my chest merely from being close to him.

The damned bond would be something I struggled to get used to. I relaxed as best I could, placing an open palm on his bicep.

He led me from the room, barely acknowledging the two supes standing guard right outside.

Down long twisted halls we went, baroque-like interior flashing by. The cloak hid my bare feet from view as they padded across cool marble floors.

“The two women you came in with—your friends,” he emphasized, clarifying that he was well aware Jacinda and Scarlett meant something to me, “they’re fine. For now.”

“What do you mean, for now?”

“In here,” he said, ignoring my question and slowing in front of a sole, rounded door. Gently loosening my hold on his arm, he pushed it open and gestured for me to enter first.

I did so with caution. The room was illuminated by soft candlelight.

There were one or two others inside as well, but my full attention was on the body in the middle of the room.

Cognizant of Reyes’ watchful eyes, I removed my hood and approached with a heavy-footed walk. On a wide wooden table, he lay draped over the flag that had hung proudly at our castle’s entry.

He was preserved.

Someone had tended him.

His olive skin was clean, hair neatly brushed back away from his face, and his powerful yet gentle hands were folded atop his chest.

I wished then, more than anything, that I could feign naivety and pretend my father was sleeping peacefully, but the utter stillness of his chest forced me to stare down at the truth.

He was dead.

Pulling down the collar of his royal garb slightly, I couldn’t turn a blind eye to the line going from one side of his neck to the other. Someone with skill had sewn him back together.

“His body was found beneath the rubble of a gazebo…his head was in a rose bush,” Reyes explained quietly.

I nodded. The gazebo was his favorite place to sit and unwind. I noted that there were no unhealed defensive wounds; he must have known whoever did this to him—to us.

A tightening in my chest had me biting the inside of my lower lip to prevent it from trembling.

I leaned down and pressed the last kiss I would ever give him to his forehead. When I rose, I rubbed my heart with the heel of my palm. My throat itched and unshed tears burned behind my eyes.

“We can bury him in the cemetery or acquire an urn of your choosing,” Reyes continued.

“He was meant to be buried beside my mother.”

There was a shuffling of feet behind me, but Reyes didn’t approach. With one last glance at my father, I turned to see what he was doing.

Sage and brazen orange met, time paused for those few seconds, and it was as if he peered right through me, seeing everything I didn’t want him to down to my weary bones.

“I believe this belongs to you,” he said softly.

Moment broken, my gaze was pulled to the object clasped within his massive hands.

I blinked as if I were seeing things, eyes darting back to his. I don’t know what it was about my crown in his grasp that had everything beginning to sink in, but reality hit hard.

The mark on the side of my body that felt as it were alive fused not only us but our kingdoms.

“I told you, no,” I gasped, struggling to rein in my temper.

“Yes, I heard you. Just like you did upstairs before calling my name as you came.”

I surged forward, seething through clenched teeth. “You had no right.” I snatched my crown from his filthy hands. “I. Told. You. No,” I repeated, my voice rising in volume.

His eyes flashed in warning, one I ignored. “Watch your tongue; I’d hate to have it removed, though there are plenty of things I can think to use that mouth of yours for.”

This was twice now he’d alluded to something sexual. I was doing my best to forget all the ways he’d taken me over the past few days. Sometimes he was rough, other times languid and gentle, bringing me to climax almost tenderly.

I knew what it felt like to have his beautifully engorged cock between my lips as he fisted my hair and fucked my throat. I’d craved the taste of his bittersweet come, and even now fought the urge to sweep my tongue out as if I’d find more.

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