Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 32263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
The other girls see him too, and fear ripples through the line the moment his full size and power registers. I hear sharp intakes of breath, the muffled sound of sobbing, the scrape of boots as bodies instinctively recoil even as they are pushed forward. Shoulders hunch. Heads bow lower. Hands tremble.
I should feel the same.
Instead, I find myself staring.
Yearning.
Excited.
My eyes roam up his massive chest and broad shoulders to zero in on his face. His long dark hair is pulled back, revealing mesmerizing gray eyes that I can’t seem to look away from. On the sides of those hauntingly sexy eyes are etched lines carved over the years of carrying the weight of responsibility.
Much to my irritation, I find him handsome. Who wouldn’t with those strong, severe features and that dark, closely cropped beard?
“Morwen,” Lyris says, gripping my arm. “I’m scared.”
“It will be okay,” I whisper as the line begins to move. “I’m here with you.”
But my attention is not. There is something unsettling about the way my attention keeps returning to him, something even more unsettling about the way my body reacts despite my mind’s insistence that this is wrong and unwanted. A hot heaviness settles between my legs, unwelcome and confusing, and I shift my weight, trying to shake it loose.
It does not work.
One by one, the women are brought before him.
Each girl is guided forward onto the dais, instructed to bow her head and stand still. The king studies them briefly, his expression unreadable, his gaze sharp but not cruel.
Then he leans in.
He does not touch them. He does not speak.
He simply inhales close to their necks, slow and deliberate, as if scent alone tells him everything he needs to know.
Every girl stiffens when he does it.
Every time, my chest tightens.
After a moment—sometimes shorter the length of a heartbeat—he straightens and subtly shakes his head in a small, final gesture.
Dismissed.
The guards lead them away, some women sagging with relief, others dissolving into tears, a few casting one last desperate glance over their shoulders as if the king might change his mind.
It appears I’m not the only hot-blooded woman who’s changed her tune after seeing the gorgeous king.
But the Wolf King does not change his mind.
He does not watch them leave.
He waits.
The line advances, slow and relentless, and I become acutely aware of the warmth of Lyris’s hand clutched in mine, of the way her fingers shake no matter how tightly I squeeze back.
Another girl steps forward. Another quiet inhale. Another dismissal.
The rhythm is maddening in its predictability.
And yet, with every step closer, the strange awareness inside me only grows stronger. I notice the subtle tension in the king’s posture, the way his shoulders remain almost painfully straight, the faint weariness etched into his eyes, the short heavy breaths…
I can tell he’s not enjoying this.
This is not the face of a monster reveling in cruelty.
This is the face of a man at his wits’ end.
He looks like he needs a drink and a smoke and a massage. When was the last time he let loose?
An image of me handing him a drink, lighting his cigar, and running my hands over those big powerful shoulders flickers into my head and the pulsing heat between my legs intensifies.
His nostrils flare and his gray eyes brighten.
I hide behind the girl in front of me as his eyes suddenly dart in my direction, searching the line of women, searching toward me.
My muscles go weak as I hide my head, ducking low.
He wasn’t… That reaction wasn’t for me… It couldn’t be…
But when I lift my head and peek out, his fierce, dominating eyes are locked on mine. And they don’t look away.
A new girl is brought before him, but he doesn’t look at her. He doesn’t move.
He just stares.
At me.
“No,” he commands. “Not her. Her.”
He lifts his big hand and points at me.
Every head in the room turns—women, guards, servants, everyone. But I can only feel his eyes. They’re burning through my body.
The guards come to get me, but I step forward on my own, head held high, staring the Wolf King down as I walk up the steps of the dais.
He’s even larger up close. More handsome too.
I have to crane my head back to look into his breathtaking gray eyes.
Shockingly, I don’t feel any fear.
In fact, it’s him who shakes. Those mountainous shoulders quake as he looks down at me in awe. His big hands tremble as he breathes in deeply.
For a moment, nothing happens.
Then, he moves in.
My body stiffens, humming with a lustful energy that seems to radiate from my core and pulse between my legs as he gets in nice and close.
He’s scenting me, but I’m smelling him right back. He smells like pine and smoke, with something else I can’t quite pin. An alluring, dark, masculine smell that makes my breath catch despite my best efforts.