Just before dusk, a group of the kingsguard arrived at her room and surrounded her as they escorted her to the east side of the palace. The empty corridors, which were clearly arranged, created an eerie tension that heightened her apprehension. She gripped her favorite book to her chest, rubbing its worn, rough cover with her thumbs for comfort.
When they arrived, the guards spread out along the corridor and blocked each end. Ana stood outside the door for a moment, before taking a deep breath and opening it.
It was empty.
Exhaling with relief, she stepped inside. At least she would be able to familiarize herself with the room first. The guards remained at the door as she closed it behind her, and for the moment, she was alone.
It was a large, singular room, not unlike her bed chambers, except hers was attached to the royal living quarters. Her attention was immediately drawn to the enormous bed in the center. Tears and anger welled up in her, swift and vicious. Maddoc hadn’t asked for that. He’d wanted a room, but he did not specifically ask for a bed. It was as though she was being offered to him on a platter. Bitterness stung the back of her throat, and she turned away pressing her lips together to avoid verbalizing it aloud.
A large window along the right-hand wall let in the last of the afternoon sun, and on the far left stood two tables loaded with bowls, plates, and platters of food accompanied by pitchers of mead and jugs of water. Heading over to the tables, she surveyed the spread—a large selection of cuisines from all over the kingdom. It was unlikely he would resist it, but she doubted it would distract him from what he came for. In the corner a small walled-off area contained a pump, basins, and a latrine.
Turning she crossed the room to the window and realized she was on the third or fourth floor. The royal grounds that surrounded the palace didn’t extended out as far here as it did around the other sides of the palace. Beyond it lay the central city, the most impressive of the noble houses could be seen from here. Perhaps Maddoc asked for this room so he could escape into the city afterward. He’d have to go through the grounds first, though, and Ana didn’t doubt that Father had his most accomplished archers watching the area.
She turned and paced the room, trying to settle her nerves. She surmised that the only way it could turn worse was if she didn’t do what he said, or if she failed to keep her guard up in front of him. For the first time, she was glad that her father didn’t keep her abreast of all the things that went on in the kingdom. There was nothing for him to torture out of her, nothing for him to use to damage the royal family, or her father—apart from her.
Finally, as the light in the sky shifted to a dim gleam, she moved to stand by the bed, set her book down on it, clasped her hands in front of her, placed her feet together, relaxed her posture, then simply waited.
It wasn’t long until the door opened.
Tension sparked through the room as the outlaw stepped in, and Ana’s hands dropped to her sides, her mouth dry as she stared. Seeing him at a distance in the assembly hall had not prepared her at all.
The man was huge—almost unnaturally large, like the giants in the old folk tales every child was told to fear. Ana almost expected the world would shake with each step he took. Thick, black hair swung just past his shoulders, and he wore the same furs and leathers he’d had on earlier. He was thick and bulky all over, and each time he moved something bulged.
The facial hair along his jaw and around his mouth didn’t seem as scruffy or as abundant close up—it was as though he didn’t bother to groom but still wanted his face to be recognizable. And what a face it was. Deep-set eyes framed by black lashes, thick, dark brows, and a straight, wide nose made him look not only rugged, but also powerful and somewhat mysterious. She’d read that he purposely hid his face because there was something horrifically wrong with him, which was why no one had seen it. She’d expected him to be as ugly as the trolls rumored to live in the swamps of the marshlands, but he wasn’t. There was also no disfigurement to any part of him nor any affliction on his skin. The only striking thing about him that truly scared Ana was his eyes. Seeing them at a distance in the assembly hall did not prepare her for studying them close up. Pitch-black and drained of all emotion, they landed on her soon as he entered the room. It wasn’t just their color—or lack of it. Within them was a harshness she’d never seen before—as if he’d never had a joyful thought in his life and his eyes could suck all joy from anything he looked at. Even though she knew the high society of Allandis had cruel and mean undertones, she’d never seen anything so dark and violent in their expressions. This man certainly reflected the concerns everyone had about him.
Thankfully, his eyes shifted from her to around the room, then as he fully entered the space he closed the door behind him, firmly locking it.
Ana opened her mouth, preparing to introduce herself, but he strode into the middle of the room, his eyes hitting her again, and the trembling darkness simmering in her stomach heightened.
“Come here.”
With those low, gritty words, the tremble exploded into a nauseous cloud of unease. Ana step toward him, unable to drag her eyes from his face. He watched her with the same intensity that he had watched Father, but there was something different about it now, something she couldn’t decipher.
When she reached within a couple of feet from him, she stopped and forced herself to bow her head. Maybe if she did what Milly said—didn’t speak to him unless necessary, and made herself to be the submissive Omega that all Alphas wanted—then she could save herself some of the discomfort that was no doubt about to come.
“Kneel.”
Ana’s eyes shot back up at him, but his expression didn’t change. Taking a deep breath, she slowly lowered to her knees, her dress puffing out around her. She kept her head down as he stepped forward, shuffling with his clothes.
“Open.”
When she glanced up, she froze, her breath caught in her throat. The outlaw had unbuckled himself and released his cock. Hard, thick, and long, it swayed heavily, almost as though it had a significant weight of its own. Though she’d had lessons about sex and her heat, she’d never imagined what a cock might look like close-up when aroused—of course she’d read the more racier stories in the library, the ones Milly thought she didn’t know about wedged between the boring land ownership laws and the thousands of recipes for pottage, but none of them described what a man’s appendage looked like, only what he did with it. This Alpha’s was huge—a thick, stiff rod that curved up slightly with a seeping bulbous tip, and veins scattering along it.
Her eyes widened as he came toward her, and she almost didn’t register what he was expecting her to do until its warm, wet tip touched her lips. She stiffened, indignant that he was intending to treat her like a whore, but she already knew that was going to happen. She forced herself to calm, and let him rub himself on her lips. The skin was silkier than she thought it was going to be, and the scent that curled into her nose was nothing like she had experienced before. Deep and rich, it was pungent with strong spicy, briny, and caustic tones blended to create something so uniquely complex she couldn’t decide if it was pleasing or not. She took a deep breath of it, and another. And then another.
“Open,” he ordered again, irritation crackling through his tone.