Page 58 of How to Claim A Shadow King

The comforting smell of him hits me like a drug, and I choke on a sob.

A massive shape shifts in the center of the darkness.

Malakai is out of the bed before I can even close the door, bare feet silent on the stone. Low-slung dark trousers hang from his hips, his muscled chest and shoulders gleaming like carved marble in the faint moonlight.

His dark eyes are wild, and he stops before he reaches me. I choke out another shaky breath.

"Aveline?" His voice is a low, protective rumble. "What is it? What's wrong?"

I can't answer.

My entire body shakes violently, my knees nearly giving out.

I shake my head, and expect to hit the floor, but I never do.

Malakai moves with impossible speed.

His calloused hands catch me under the arms before I can fall. He hoists me against his chest, lifting me entirely into his arms.

I lean into him, fresh tears soaking both our skin.

"You're freezing." He carries me straight to his bed.

Before I can protest, or tell him I’m fine, or anything—he climbs in beside me, pulling the heavy, fur-trimmed comforter over us, sealing the cold air out.

He strokes my hair with one hand, waiting for me to tell him what’s wrong.

He doesn’t hurry me.

Finally, my breathing smooths out enough that I think I can tell him.

I need to tell him.

"I had a dream," I finally manage. "The forest… they were tearing it apart." My voice cracks on the last word, a shudder sliding down my body.

He shifts closer, his huge frame bracketing my body. One massive arm wraps around my waist, and I sigh as he pulls my back flush against his chest. His other hand cups the back of my head, and I press my face into the crook of his neck.

His smells, feels like home.

I drink it in, breathing him in, breathing in this reality, where I’m safe.

"I have you." His breath’s hot against the top of my head. "Nothing passes my gates, Aveline. I won’t let anyone harm you. Sleep."

I wrap my fingers into the fabric of his trousers, anchoring myself to him, closing my eyes. The shaking finally subsides, and I try to steady my breathing. Malakai rubs my back in slow, steady circles.

“Thank you,” I tell him, voice thick with sleep.

“You never have to thank me for this, Aveline.”

The scent of him, the warmth of his big body, and the feeling of safety finally allow me to breathe deeply, steadily, as sleep pulls me back under.

22

MALAKAI

For centuries, my existence has been a relentless, waking grey.

Elder Gods do not sleep; we bide our time.