Page 43 of Queen of Shadows and Ruin

“I’m coming!”

Except she meant that literally. She cried out, her body arching as her movements grew more frantic.

“Fuck, Ekaja. Get your ass down there now,” he demanded and then turned on his heel and slammed the door behind him to the sounds of Ekaja rocking through what sounded like a pretty fantastic orgasm.

He waited on the other side of the door, pacing, even more irritated than before. He wasn’t angry with Ekaja, but everything was getting under his skin.

After she finished moaning, he heard them shuffling on the other side of the door, followed by a chorus of laughter and giggling. That was definitely her friend. Ekaja didn’t giggle.

Finally, the door swung open, and Ekaja sauntered out with a shit-eating grin. She made a show of slowly wiping her mouth with the back of her hand and then slapped him on the ass before she began stalking down the hall. He barely reacted, a low growl building in his throat.

She looked over her shoulder and called, “Well, are we heading to the party?”

He huffed out a breath and caught up, his long strides matching hers.

“What’s in your panties?” she asked.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?”

She snorted. “Just because you’re sexually frustrated doesn’t mean I have to be.”

He grunted. He was frustrated.

He missed Zarya. Maybe that’s what this mood was about, but that didn’t seem like him. He’d gone plenty of years without the touch of a woman during the darkest days on the battlefield with only his hand for company. He wasn’t ruled by his cock like so many men. But he’d learned enough times that everything he believed about himself went out the window where Zarya was concerned.

Finally, they arrived back at the party and stood in the doorway. Immediately, he caught sight of Zarya with Abishek. They were talking to Amir. Or the weasel, as Rabin preferred to call him. He was constantly sniffing around the castle, sucking up to the king, and worming his way into his good graces. Even worse were the whispered rumors that followed the young noble wherever he went—namely, the abuse he’d heaped on a string of female partners, both of a sexual and corporeal nature.

His parents were wealthy enough to ensure the bulk of the accusations were hushed, never to be uttered in polite company, but everyone knew.

Amir was also incredibly powerful amongst Aazheri, and that offered a certain type of leverage that not even money could buy. Abishek had even mused once or twice about naming Amir his heir, though Rabin didn’t believe he’d ever follow through on such a promise. Abishek believed in blood.

Ekaja currently stood as the Aazheri prepared to inherit Abishek’s legacy if he died without naming an heir. She wasn’t technically blood, but the king considered her family all the same.

With Zarya in the picture, he couldn’t be sure where Abishek’s plan lay.

What Rabin wanted to know was why that scum was anywhere near her.

He watched as Abishek introduced Zarya and Amir, pressing her a little closer towards him. His eyes narrowed as Amir studied Zarya, his gaze sweeping over her in a way that made Rabin want to walk over and poke his eyes out with the tip of a burning sword. And then step on them to feel the satisfying squelch as they collapsed under his boots.

“Settle down,” came a soft voice to his left. Ekaja was also watching the scene, clearly picking up on the same thing he was. Or maybe she was just sensing his mood. “You’ll give away your little secret if you can’t control yourself.”

Rabin growled deep in his chest, his hands curling at his sides. “I’ll kill him. He’s vile filth.”

She barked out a dry laugh. “Absolutely, but go ahead and do it where there aren’t a hundred witnesses. You’re being so fucking obvious.”

“She’s mine. In every way.”

Ekaja raised an eyebrow. “I’ve never seen you like this before.”

He nodded and then stared back at Zarya, who looked a bit like a rabbit caught in the path of a predator. “There’s never been anyone like her before. Nor will there be again.”

Ekaja didn’t respond. She just tipped her head and scanned the crowd.

“Ah, there’s Khari,” she said. “I should go talk to him as His Majesty ‘suggested.’ Don’t do anything stupid while I’m gone.”

Rabin rolled his neck, attempting to release some of the tension wrenching his muscles tight. “I can’t promise that.”

She snorted another dry laugh and then melted through the crowd while Rabin kept his gaze focused on Zarya. Abishek had moved on, and now Zarya stood with Amir, obviously trying to make polite conversation.