His hands fly up to grip my arm, but he doesn't try to throw me off. He just stares up at me, his chest heaving beneath me, that psychotic smile finally gone and replaced by raw, unadulterated awe.
“Fuck,” he breathes, the word a puff of air against my skin that elicits full-body shivers and a fresh round of goose bumps. “You're getting so much better.”
I lean down slightly, putting more weight on his chest. “Don't sound so surprised.”
A slow, genuine grin spreads across his face, the kind that makes my stomach clench.
“You've earned a present,” he rasps.
I roll my eyes, not loosening my hold. “The ‘present’ better not be your cock, Kylian.”
Or…
Maybe it better be.
His grin widens, turning wicked and utterly unhinged. He doesn't answer, just lets out a low, dark chuckle that vibrates through my arm. The promise in his eyes is far more terrifying than any blade.
He surprises me, though, by gracefully rolling us so I’m on my back. He then leaps to his feet and hurries toward the largest tree on the outskirts of the clearing, its branches curled together like two lovers in an intimate embrace.
Oookaaaay, I guess he truly does have a present for me.
When Kylian returns, he’s bouncing on the balls of his feet, practically radiating infectious energy that conjures a smile to my own lips. His hands are clasped firmly behind his back.
“A coronation gift for my favorite royal.” Seemingly as an afterthought, he adds, “Don't tell Teddie.”
He thrusts his hands out, and I have to fight the urge to recoil. It's a crown, but not like any I've seen before. It's crafted from teeth and bones, interwoven with dark vines that still bear thorns.
Are they…animal bones and teeth? No. They don’t look like it?—
“It's made from your enemies,” Kylian says, his eyes gleaming with pride as he leans closer. “Each tooth, each bone, belongs to someone who threatened you. Who would have harmed you if I hadn't stopped them first.” He lifts the crown, preparing to place it on my head. “A ruler should have a crown, don't you think?”
I remain frozen as he settles the macabre creation on my hair. The weight of it feels both terrifying and strangely fitting. The bones and teeth are cool against my skin, the thorns pricking just enough to remind me this is real.
A logical part of me knows I should feel disgusted, but…that emotion doesn’t register. Not really. All I feel is love that Kylian went through the effort to do this for me. It probably took him hours just to craft the crown together. I picture him, leaning over a table, his hand steady as he diligently pieces this gift together.
How many people did he kill to make this?
Why don’t I care?
Fuck.
Is this who I am now?
Is that a bad thing?
“Beautiful,” Kylian breathes, his hands coming to rest on my shoulders. “My omega queen.”
His scent intensifies, and my body responds with a traitorous heat that spreads through my veins. The blockers I use are failing me completely now, my own omega scent rising to meet his. I can feel his satisfaction as he leans in, his nose tracingthe line of my throat. Lust streaks through me, quickening my pulse, which has already been going haywire.
“You are something more,” he murmurs against my skin. “Something ethereal and powerful. Something that needs to be claimed, protected…possessed.”
His lips find the gland on my neck, and I gasp as a jolt of electricity courses through me. It's like being struck by lightning, but instead of pain, there's only pleasure—intense, overwhelming, all-consuming.
“I've waited so long,” he whispers, his teeth grazing my skin. “My little obsession. My perfect princess. I need you.”
One of his hands inches upwards until he touches my bare stomach, his knuckles grazing my skin. The touch is electric, sending waves of desire through me that make my knees weak.
The forest around us seems to hold its breath as his fingers trace patterns on my lower belly, my body arching into his touch, bowing against him like a flower desperately seeking sunlight. The crown of teeth and bones sits heavy on my head, a grotesque halo for this unholy communion.
