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Nope.
I was out.
Calmly, I tightened my grip on my pot and continued walking right back into the kitchen.
The door closed behind me, and silence reigned behind it.
Thick, heavy silence.
I had to make a decision. Quickly.
Was I going to run?
The Dark King wasn’t the kind of man who would just let me go. He’d track me, somehow. If he wanted to find me, then one way or another, he would.
Hell, he’d probablyenjoyhunting me down.
My stomach clenched.
I was already on my way out of this world. I wasn’t going to give him the pleasure of watching me use what little life I had left to run from him.
The door hadn’t opened yet, still. I’d probably shocked him by walking out so calmly. The bastard wasn’t known for his kindness, so he’d probably expected me to run screaming or something.
The thought repeated in my mind…
He wasn’t known for his kindness.
Shit.
I’d left him with my whole inn full of people, none of which he had any reason to leave alive.
I’d seen men like him, always at their worst. They took pleasure in people’s pain. And I didn’t want to spend the last few weeks or months of my life carrying around the guilt that would accompany leaving him to murder my best customers.
So I turned, and walked back into the room.
The king was still sitting in the same chair he’d occupied before, and was staring at the door I’d walked through with a perplexed expression on his stupidly-attractive face.
“Well?” I lifted an eyebrow at him, setting a hand on my hip. I knew exactly how to piss off men like him, and I wasn’t going down without a fucking fight. “Are we going, or what?”
The king’s lips curved up in a slow, wicked smirk. “I thought you’d never ask.” In an exaggeratedly-slow motion, he stood up and brushed the front and back of his pants off.
I scowled at him. “Are you trying to insinuate that I’m a shitty hostess? Because I promise you, there was no dirt on that chair before you sat down. My customers would definitely let me know if the cleanliness of the dining room was lacking.”
The room was so silent, you could’ve heard a grain of rice drop.
A low, dark chuckle rumbled the king’s chest. “Good, you’ve got fire. You’ll need it.” He reached for my wrist.
I tugged it away before he could grab me, shooting him a glare. “Touch me, and I’ll have a reason to kill you after all.”
He raised an eyebrow at me. “You couldn’t even if you wanted to, Lemay. Fated mates are connected to the fucking soul. You die, I die.”
My heart must’ve dropped into my stomach.
Fated mates werewhat?
He caught my wrist, and the world around us seemed to shift as the color around us faded to darkness, and nothing but darkness.
I pitched forward, crashing to my knees on smooth, tile flooring that most certainly did not belong in my inn. The contents of my stomach quickly covered the floor, the bile in my mouth making me gag long after my belly was emptied.
