He wants you because of the Hounds.
A warrior queen.
Her lips thinned. She may be young, but she wasn’t stupid. In the game of kings and jesters, she was considered a pawn.
You could be so much more.
Tempest looked at the palms of her hands. She’d have to be crafty, and, still, it boded well for her if she married Destin. There’d been rumors of how his previous wife died. She didn’t doubt for one second that the man could commit murder. If she accepted his offer, her life would never be safe.
It isn’t now.
From the moment she had been born, death had marked her. Life as a Hound was a gamble each time she exited the barracks. She sighed and wrapped her arms around her knees, pillowing her cheek on them.
You’ll have to bed the monster.
Her stomach rolled. The idea of his bloodstained hands running over her body made her sick. What’s more important? A bit of bed sport or the thousands dying because of his tyranny?
One lone tear squeezed out the corner of her eye. While she’d never imagined herself married, she hadn’t imagined her life like this. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Once she left this roof, everything would change. There would be no escaping the decision she made.
As queen, you will need allies.
The Hounds would be her greatest weapon. She was one of them. They wouldn’t forget that. And the Talagans… There were many of them she liked. Some of them she trusted—even Brine, who had wanted her dead in the beginning but had forged a respectful alliance with her through training. Was it so radical to believe that some of them might align themselves with her if she became queen? They were the allies Tempest needed. Ones who could move about and do her bidding beneath the king’s notice.
It was a risk, of course. A huge risk. It wasn’t just Tempest’s life on the line if she went through with this. She couldn’t stand idle while innocents suffered and died. If the Jester and Destin planned to use her, she’d let them, all the while seizing power for herself.
“Please, let me make wise decisions,” she murmured, her soft prayer swept away in the breeze. Gentle snowflakes began to drift from the sky, and she stood, her gaze drifting to the palace in the distance. “You started this, but I’ll finish it.”
Tempest entered the grand doors to the palace, feeling simultaneously numb and raw with nerves. She brushed the snow from her hair and cloak.
“My lady.” A female servant bobbed a quick curtsey.
“I’m here to see the king,” Tempest said.
“This way. He’s been expecting you.”
Ice filled her veins, and she squeezed her fingers into fists to battle back the fear. He was just a man. One that she was going to manipulate to get what she wanted. They rounded a corner, and the servant came to an abrupt halt, as the man himself prowled down the corridor toward them. The servant bowed and back away.
Tempest’s heart hammered in her chest, but she lifted her chin. Fear didn’t freeze her—it sparked the fight in her.
King Destin looked at her questioningly. “Is something the matter, Tempest?”
“Yes. Yes, I accept your proposal. I will marry you,” Tempest said, the words tumbling out of her mouth, sounding nothing like herself.
It was done. She’d sealed her fate.
Twenty-One
King Destin
“Ah, I can always rely on you for a satisfying evening. Lady Grey.”
He took a long draught of fire whiskey and eyed the decanter with the remaining amber spirits glinting from the light in the fireplace. He reclined on his chair, stretching his toes toward the flames, and sighed contentedly. “Really, there’s nothing better than a few hours with a good woman to put me at ease.”
He glanced back at his bed, where a long-limbed beauty with disheveled hair smiled sleepily at him. Her hair was naturally blonde, but Destin had insisted on her dyeing it blue for the occasion. Whenever he ran his fingers through it, he’d imagined it belonged to Tempest, his future queen and bedmate. The image never failed to inspire passion. The fiery Hound was soon to be his.
“Anything to appease my king,” the woman said, shifting on the bed until she was sitting with her back against half a dozen silken pillows.
Destin laughed. That was true. Almost every woman in Dotae would do anything to appease him. But Tempest… She was his crown jewel.
She had taken his order to do anything she needed to do to reintegrate herself into the Talagan rebel group without a word of complaint. Though she was proud and confident and powerful, and the idea of sleeping with shifter scum was something she was clearly loathe to do, she’d accepted her king’s mission.
A woman determined to do her duty even if it killed her. A rarity among the breed.
His lip curled at the thought of her bedding a Talagan male. He knew it was unlikely that she would have slept with any of the rebels; that he had told her to use such means if necessary meant she would no doubt have been more determined than ever to complete the mission without resorting to such tactics. Destin was pleased that he knew how to manipulate his Lady Hound into doing his bidding.
Including into marrying him.
Her reaction to his proposal was telling enough.
He could see how conflicted Tempest had been about his offer of marriage. How she was terrified of him but just as equally intrigued. How she could see the advantages the position of queen would give her, while at the same time wondering if those advantages were worth it. Tempest was intelligent, capable, and calculating.
Which made the idea of breaking her all the more irresistible.
“Appease your king indeed,” Destin replied, slowly standing from his chair to make his way to the bed. “But it is, unfortunately, the last time you will please me in such a way. Soon I will be married to my little Hound.”
The woman pouted, her lush bottom lip quivering.
It occurred to Destin that he had not bothered to learn her name, though this was the fourth time he’d bedded her. Tiana, perhaps, or maybe Britta.
“I thought you took women to bed during your last marriage, Your Majesty,” she said, shifting over on the bed to make room for Destin. He sat down beside her. His bedmate batted her lashes and ran a finger up his arm. “I’m always willing to serve the Crown. If you’re tired of me, I’m sure I can become more creative to keep you satisfied.”
“Ah, but my Lady Hound is different,” he said, which was true. “It would pain me to sleep with another in her stead once we are married. I understand she believes in morality.”
“Ironic since she lives with men, no?” the woman crooned.
“I need her to be undeniably on my side for what’s to come, and sacrifices must be made, my beauty.” Destin lightly pushed on her shoulder.
She stretched out on his bed, a seductive smile on her lips. “What’s to come?” she purred.
His mouth split into a wide grin. “Why, war, of course.” He touched the tip of her nose with his fingertip, then ran it down over her lips, chin, and neck until it rested on the pulse at the hollow between her collarbones. “We will stamp out all resistance, and then, we will take the Fire Isles.”
“I—I assume it is for the good of the kingdom,” she replied, though her voice was uncertain. Destin moved his fingers to her shoulder and then her back, before sweeping back over her collarbone until his touch rested on the hollow at the bottom her neck once again.