Page 31
She was going into heat.
Submitting to the needs of her body. Whether she knew it or not, she’d come seeking one thing.
A prince’s knot.
Traumatized, malnourished, and broken, but still, helpless to resist what instinct demanded of her.
Sinadim offered a smile.
An effort to be kind, when all she’d ever known was cruelty.
He made space for her in his bedding to snuggle closer when she was able to muster the courage. Let her press her nose against his chest where she could sedate herself on the scent of a Karahmet prince. Letting his mane flare about his shoulders so she could breathe deep of potent Anhur musk.
He said nothing at all when, with hesitant fingers, she pushed at the collar of his shirt to expose heated bronzed skin.
Tiny, pink tongue darting out, she glanced up with eyes swallowed by inky pitch. Asking permission with a weighted glance.
Still, he said nothing.
Merely returned her heated stare with one of his own. Silently commanding her to speak, to ask for what she needed.
Refusing to take.
Forcing her to claim it. To reject what Veli had done to her.
Dainty ears flicked back.
Forward, and back again.
Exotic and expressive—one of his favorite things about her kind, and something he’d never clip or trim to make her appear more Anhur, as some preferred.
The air had grown heavy between them. Weighted with the scent of a Hathorian female in desperate need of attention—saturated with an Anhur male hovering on the edge of rut.
Brittle, until…
“Please… M-Master… I need… It hurts…”
“Such a brave girl,” he cooed and draped one heavy arm around her middle. Dragging her closer. Keeping her secured against him as she trembled, he anchored her frame to his heat. “What do you need, little bird? Tell me why you came.”
She licked her lips, slinging one boney knee over his thigh. Rubbing the heat of her tiny pussy against his muscle until she grew swollen and thick. Slippery. Until the air was utterly saturated with Omega perfume.
Resisting the urge to dominate the fragile creature, Sinadim left her to it. Let her work herself into a lather, so she could find her fire and overcome the ghosts of her past.
One little hand slid down his chest. Tentative, exploring. Reaching for the object of her desire, she hesitated when her fingers found his pubis. Glancing up to meet his eyes.
He nodded. “Take what you’ve come all this way to taste, brave girl. No one will punish you.”
Shifting, she knelt at his side. Eyes fixed to the bulge trapped behind his laces, her nipples tight beads of aching want that poked through the thin fabric of her tunic. Knees spread in the sparse bedding.
And then, as if to encourage herself, she nodded.
Nodded again.
Reaching not for his laces, but for the tie at her nape, she tugged at the fabric and bared herself before him. Exposing herself, showing the extent of the damage done to her body.
Tiny, flat breasts tipped with dark nipples. Bones tenting dusky skin that was darker in some places. Raised in others. The bruises and scars that would shift and change with time, but were a visceral reminder that this girl was not one of his.
She was delicate.
