Beauty & Rage (Broken Crowns Book 1)

by Natalie Bennett

  I sat and slowly consumed what was on the tray, taking my time to savor it.

  During my high, I’d been so caught up in Reyes that food had no taste. This was one of the best meals I’d had in a long time.

  After taking in as much of the food as I could, I wandered back into the bathroom and made use of the toothbrush I’d been given. Next, I explored the room, finding nothing out of the ordinary.

  In a double-wide closet with clothing on only one side, I discovered Reyes’ wardrobe was all blandly similar, a few burgundies popping out between the well-pressed black.

  A set of tall French doors were behind heavy drapery but were locked.

  Through all of this, my mind hitched a ride on a hamster wheel, cycling through the same continuous thoughts. For once, though, my most heavy concern wasn’t my friends, but Zenith and my people, and the demis dying from whatever Reyes was having them injected with.

  I began to rehearse a speech inside my head. I made a list of things that needed to be discussed, placing Zenith at the top. While I was more than worried about my demis, an entire region now relied on me.

  Pacing my tired body back and forth in front of the fireplace, the sudden itching of my mark alerted me that he was there. I turned and looked towards the door.

  He stood just in front of it, almost entirely still. The eyes I’d spent countless hours staring into traced over my body, the same predatory intensity within their depths.

  This cruel stranger had tied us together.

  I firmed my lips and ground my teeth, ignoring the instinctual sensation to go to him.

  “That isn’t a very proper greeting for your king,” he chided almost teasingly.

  It baffled me that this man had an inch of humor in his bones. Then again, I didn’t know him all that well. I could tell you the exact way to suck his cock, but not his favorite food.

  Vividly remembering all we’d done had a blush creeping across my face.

  “You’re not my king,” I snapped, latching onto anything but those memories.

  “You’re right; I’m so much more than that now.” He began to walk—stalk—to where I was standing.

  His approach had my well-practiced speech evading me. Seeing him outside of that haze was like seeing him fully for the first time.

  He was still tall, skin still golden and midnight hair once more perfectly styled now that my hands weren’t clutching it to keep his mouth in the center of spread thighs.

  It was all the other things I believe I’d overlooked. Had I thought him beautiful before? Did my heart fall into an unsteady rhythm the closer we were?

  I held my ground even with bells and whistles going off from some faraway place inside my head, telling me to flee.

  My window of opportunity was short. Suddenly, he was there, his intoxicating scent suffocating and large hands threading fingers through my hair, forcing my head back so his soft lips could be pressed to mine.

  I tried to tell him no, and he took immediate advantage of my open mouth.

  He slipped his tongue inside, gently stroking mine. Protest muffled, I pushed at his chest, having the same amount of success as trying to move a wall.

  One hand gently cradling the back of my skull, the other left my hair and skimmed down my spine, pulling me into his solid body with a firm grip on my ass.

  Through his clothes, the solidity of well-defined abs could be felt, as could the massive bulge against my lower stomach.

  He kept me prisoner, tongue still teasing mine. I finally reciprocated with the belief that he’d release me once I did. Things spiraled the second my mouth starting working against his.

  Almost gentle caution turned to hungry aggression. My back met the wall right beside the fireplace and Reyes’ hands went to my thighs, lifting me and forcing my legs around his waist.

  Wearing nothing beneath the camisole, my bare pussy became completely exposed.

  Reyes ground his erection against it.

  A wildly confused “Stop,” was whispered between us, which seemed to encourage him.

  “You don’t wish me to stop. You want to be fucked,” he retorted.

  Keeping me in place, a zipper went down, the smooth head of his shaft appearing in its place.

  “No.” I tried to turn my face away from his.

  “Yes,” he corrected softly, pushing himself inside me.

  I squealed, grabbing onto his shoulders, breathing through the stretch and burn of the sudden intrusion.

  He withdrew, cock coated in the truth I’d just tried to ignore, and slammed back in again.

  His pace was grueling. Pumping into me, he hit the cushion at the end of my pussy, making me wetter, increasing the frequency of my moans.

  “Tell me again how you want me to stop. Lie to me again, my queen, and then scream my name as you come all over my dick.”

  Words like that should have repulsed me, not bring forth more arousal and make my pussy contract around him, but I’d grown somewhat used to his filthy mouth.

  That didn’t help me understand how I could want this, chasing the release I knew he’d give me, moaning and arching into him as if we’d done this a thousand times before.

  As he predicted, when the tightening in my stomach resulted in an explosion of pure bliss from my core, my pussy clamped around the thick cock battering my insides and his name repeatedly fell from my mouth as the orgasm washed over me.

  Something in his eyes changed then. They flashed with a feral look of possession, and he began to fuck me harder. His forehead met mine, a vicious growl erupting from his chest as he found release, cock buried to the hilt, emptying himself inside me.

  My thighs shook from the force of a second orgasm and I screamed, digging my fingers into his shoulders.

  He did not let me go right away, holding me tight as his cock grew somewhat flaccid, semen began to drip from inside me. I shut my eyes and hid my face in his neck, shame burning through me in the aftermath of my pleasure.

  There was no drug to blame for this. My protest had been feeble at best, denial in the heat of desire. I’d let him fuck me and I’d thoroughly enjoyed it.

  “It isn’t wrong to want me. I am yours now, just as you are mine. Fighting against that would be pointless.” He lowered me gently to the floor, slipping a hand around my waist to keep me steady on trembling legs. Semen and arousal continued to slowly trickle from between my thighs.

  “I don’t even know you,” I found myself saying, voice raw.

  He palmed his hair and glanced away. The way his jaw clenched alerted me that my words had upset him, but they were true.

  “Then explain what just happened.”

  Confusion had my brows furrowing as I stared up at him.

  “I—”

  He silenced me with a look and a slight shake of his head. Taking a small step back, he grabbed my hand. “Let me clean you up. I have something to show you.”

  I was led in the direction of the bathroom.

  The speech I’d rehearsed was long forgotten, but my worries were stronger than before—more so in regards to the beast that had my chest humming in contentment.

  I washed under the intrusive gaze of Reyes. He’d tried to do it himself, but I needed as much space between the two of us as I could get.

  I knew right away the rejection displeased him, somewhat confused him, because it was the first real emotion I’d detected that wasn’t indifference.

  Given what we’d just done on the other side of the wall, I could understand, but I wasn’t sure what he expected given what brought us to this point in the first place.

  The pounding at the base of my skull had everything to do with being confused about so many things; I didn’t know where to start, so when Reyes disappeared back into the bedroom, I couldn’t withhold my sigh of relief.

  Mere months ago, I’d had dinner with my father and retired to bed an ordinary half-breed princess. I had a clear future ahead of me. I was safe and naively content.

  One night destroyed every
thing.

  A traitor cost me nearly all I held dear.

  That dinner with my father seemed eons ago. Nothing was remotely the same. He was gone, and I was no longer that carefree princess but a lost queen.

  The malignant presence of a demon now lurking inside my chest made me unnatural, and I bore the mark of a beast who strangely didn’t feel all that much like a stranger.

  As if conjuring him, Reyes reentered the bathroom, carrying a black garment in his hands.

  I turned the sink off and placed my wash-rag on the vanity, righting my camisole before turning to face him.

  I didn’t know what to make of any of this. Something about this man was oddly familiar.

  “You must feel rather proud of yourself,” I said solemnly.

  “Pride is for fools—a double-edged sword.”

  His response was quick and not entirely surprising. He didn’t strike me as the type to let his head swell and get the best of him.

  “What have you—” I halted my question and took a more selfless route. “Where are the women who came in with me?”

  I was unsure if I truly wanted to know the answer. It had been nearly a week since our capture; anything could have happened between now and then.

  Reyes regarded me silently, his beautiful face once again an unreadable mask.

  “Take a walk with me, and I’ll tell you,” he replied, holding up what I now realized was a hooded cloak. “The Queen can’t be seen traipsing through court in her nightgown.”

  The Queen…

  Stepping forward, the meaning of those two words failed to resonate as they should have. He’d been referring to me as queen since my arrival—his queen, specifically.

  I accepted the garment, slipping it on and pulling the hood up.

  Reyes nodded his approval once I was finished, molten eyes doing a slow sweep over me from head to toe.

  “Shall we go?”

  He offered me an arm I was reluctant to take; however, as with Toby, I knew to choose my battles wisely. Personal feelings needed to be placed on the back burner. Slipping my wrist through the space he made, I ignored the rush of contentment that flowed through my chest merely from being close to him.

  The damned bond would be something I struggled to get used to. I relaxed as best I could, placing an open palm on his bicep.

  He led me from the room, barely acknowledging the two supes standing guard right outside.

  Down long twisted halls we went, baroque-like interior flashing by. The cloak hid my bare feet from view as they padded across cool marble floors.

  “The two women you came in with—your friends,” he emphasized, clarifying that he was well aware Jacinda and Scarlett meant something to me, “they’re fine. For now.”

  “What do you mean, for now?”

  “In here,” he said, ignoring my question and slowing in front of a sole, rounded door. Gently loosening my hold on his arm, he pushed it open and gestured for me to enter first.

  I did so with caution. The room was illuminated by soft candlelight.

  There were one or two others inside as well, but my full attention was on the body in the middle of the room.

  Cognizant of Reyes’ watchful eyes, I removed my hood and approached with a heavy-footed walk. On a wide wooden table, he lay draped over the flag that had hung proudly at our castle’s entry.

  He was preserved.

  Someone had tended him.

  His olive skin was clean, hair neatly brushed back away from his face, and his powerful yet gentle hands were folded atop his chest.

  I wished then, more than anything, that I could feign naivety and pretend my father was sleeping peacefully, but the utter stillness of his chest forced me to stare down at the truth.

  He was dead.

  Pulling down the collar of his royal garb slightly, I couldn’t turn a blind eye to the line going from one side of his neck to the other. Someone with skill had sewn him back together.

  “His body was found beneath the rubble of a gazebo…his head was in a rose bush,” Reyes explained quietly.

  I nodded. The gazebo was his favorite place to sit and unwind. I noted that there were no unhealed defensive wounds; he must have known whoever did this to him—to us.

  A tightening in my chest had me biting the inside of my lower lip to prevent it from trembling.

  I leaned down and pressed the last kiss I would ever give him to his forehead. When I rose, I rubbed my heart with the heel of my palm. My throat itched and unshed tears burned behind my eyes.

  “We can bury him in the cemetery or acquire an urn of your choosing,” Reyes continued.

  “He was meant to be buried beside my mother.”

  There was a shuffling of feet behind me, but Reyes didn’t approach. With one last glance at my father, I turned to see what he was doing.

  Sage and brazen orange met, time paused for those few seconds, and it was as if he peered right through me, seeing everything I didn’t want him to down to my weary bones.

  “I believe this belongs to you,” he said softly.

  Moment broken, my gaze was pulled to the object clasped within his massive hands.

  I blinked as if I were seeing things, eyes darting back to his. I don’t know what it was about my crown in his grasp that had everything beginning to sink in, but reality hit hard.

  The mark on the side of my body that felt as it were alive fused not only us but our kingdoms.

  “I told you, no,” I gasped, struggling to rein in my temper.

  “Yes, I heard you. Just like you did upstairs before calling my name as you came.”

  I surged forward, seething through clenched teeth. “You had no right.” I snatched my crown from his filthy hands. “I. Told. You. No,” I repeated, my voice rising in volume.

  His eyes flashed in warning, one I ignored. “Watch your tongue; I’d hate to have it removed, though there are plenty of things I can think to use that mouth of yours for.”

  This was twice now he’d alluded to something sexual. I was doing my best to forget all the ways he’d taken me over the past few days. Sometimes he was rough, other times languid and gentle, bringing me to climax almost tenderly.

  I knew what it felt like to have his beautifully engorged cock between my lips as he fisted my hair and fucked my throat. I’d craved the taste of his bittersweet come, and even now fought the urge to sweep my tongue out as if I’d find more.

  “Why would you want to forget when we both know how much you enjoyed it?”

  I startled at his response to my thought.

  “Did you just…” I trailed off, unable to accept he had such ability.

  His pink lips twitched, a smirk settling on one side of his face.

  A peek at my father’s corpse had me shaking my head and all but fleeing from the room. I shouldn’t have engaged in that conversation in front of him—living or breathing, it seemed disrespectful.

  I clutched my crown in my hands, hastily moving back down winding halls and empty corridors. I needed to get away from Reyes. My mind was beginning to spin, and I was at risk of losing it.

  As I walked, I noticed this place was eerily silent and empty considering how many resided within it.

  I came to a stop, momentarily confused about where I was.

  “Look, you didn’t even need my help to find your way back,” Reyes said, practically standing right behind me.

  I’d been aware he was near the entire time. It was impossible to ignore the feelings swirling inside me when it came to him.

  Spinning on my heel, I faced him head-on, belatedly realizing what he had meant. I was back in front of the room I’d been locked in. With no faltering whatsoever, I’d retraced my steps and walked foreign halls as if I’d been down them a hundred times before.

  The act shoved me further into a state of confusion. Reyes reached beyond me and opened the bedroom door, silently telling me to enter. It was the last place I wanted to be.

  “If my accommodations are unsatisfactory, perhap
s I should find elsewhere for your friends to stay.”

  His threat against my only remaining family had my feet carrying me through the doorway, back into the room I’d already spent far too much time in.

  “So this is your plan? Steal my region and keep me locked away?”

  “Steal? You gave it to me when you spread your legs and begged me to fuck you—repeatedly.”

  “Had you not injected me with your chemical poison, none of this would have happened,” I retorted, carrying my crown to the dresser.

  “Is that what you’re going to tell yourself? You blame the injection for the way your nails clawed my back, how you begged for more?”

  I shut my eyes, doing my best to block out his words, but he would have none of it.

  “That dose did nothing but finish waking the part of you that was sleeping for far too long. You could be more grateful.”

  “He was right,” I whispered.

  “He?”

  Too self-absorbed, I missed the danger hinted in his tone. I looked to the high ceiling as if it would give me an answer, show some sign of what I was to do now. This…man…my mate. He now had half of all that was mine.

  “I should never have come here,” I mumbled.

  “Then I would have had no choice but to come to you. I would’ve hunted you down, and when I found you, I’d have claimed you right then—fucked you in the filthy fucking street on top of your subjects’ rotting corpses.”

  I whirled to face him.

  “You expect me to be grateful? To you? For what, exactly? I came here for help, and you’ve done nothing but steal my freedom and impulsively chain me to your side.”

  “Impulsive is an insult to who I am. If you’d listened, you’d have heard me tell you that I was planning on coming for you.”

  He began to unbutton his suit jacket, neatly draping it on the back of a chair.

  “There’s no need to be upset. Freedom is a burden. You should be glad I took it from you.”

  “What the fuck does that mean?”

  He frowned at me. “You’re acting out. A queen shouldn’t curse.”

  I placed my hands on my hips and glared. “Really? Well, fuck you,” I sneered. “Fuck you and go to hell.”