Cold Queen

by K. Webster

  “Insufferable,” she breathes, her lips twitching with amusement. “Go back to your palace, Volc.”

  “But then who would make your toes curl, Cold Queen? Certainly not Green. Although, I can wager that he wishes he had such abilities.”

  “Green?”

  “Your useless leader of the Eyes of the White.”

  “Cavon,” she says with a frown.

  I don’t like his name on her lips. I don’t like him. I don’t like anything about the people who are here to protect and look after her.

  “Let’s wash your hair now,” I grumble.

  She purses her lips together. “I don’t need to.”

  “There’s ash in your hair. Of course you need to.”

  Her cheeks burn crimson. So lovely to see color on her beautiful face. “I don’t want to see the blue strands.”

  I clench my jaw. After speaking with Mazon, I know what the blue strands are caused by. Fury bubbles up inside me. “You’ll allow me to wash your hair and then you will proudly display the blue in your hair. Want to know why, Elzira?”

  She glowers at me. “Enlighten me.”

  I drag my thumb along her jaw, leaving a trail of wetness along the way. “It is proof you are a survivor.”

  Her anger dissipates as she regards me. “Barely.”

  “It’s enough. More than enough. Now that you’ve survived, it’s time to start living.”

  “You act as though I am cured,” she breathes, unconvinced.

  All I can do is smile at her.

  As long as I’m here, she’s healed.

  And when she makes a full recovery, the Norta Icelands will be splattered crimson by their queen.

  I’ve finally freed her from her cage.

  Elzira

  I lie on my side, staring at the fire before me as it flickers and crackles. Ryke is behind me, gently combing through my wet tangles. I’d refused to look at my blue-streaked hair. It’s a reminder of my illness.

  Earlier today, I’d thought I was on death’s bed. So weak. So tired. I felt life slipping from me. But when I awoke, I was changed. Power thrummed through my veins. With each passing second, I am stronger.

  What have you done to me, you wickedly handsome Volc?

  Whatever it was, I can’t be angry with him. I haven’t felt so alive and able to grasp my gift so easily ever. He’s awakened something inside of me.

  “Make me a blade, Cold Queen.”

  I roll my eyes at his order. “Of course, your royal pain in the ass.”

  He chuckles, his hot breath warm against my head. I hold my fingers out in front of me, surprised at how they’re no longer blue, but pale pink. A true sign blood flows through my veins. I fling out my pointer finger, shooting out a diamondblade with the movement. He reaches over and breaks it off my finger. I go back to staring at the fire until I realize he’s cutting my hair.

  “What are you doing?” I shriek.

  He lays a blue strand out in front of me. “Killing two birds with one stone, snowflake.”

  Cryptic bastard.

  “Elaborate, Volc.”

  Another laugh behind me rumbles the bed. I’d be lying if I said I hated his laugh. I love it. It unnerves me just how much I do love it. He saws through another strand before laying it in front of me beside the other one.

  “I’m ridding you of the most noticeable blue streaks since you hate them,” he explains as he cuts off a third length. “One bird.”

  “And the other bird?”

  “I’m making a rope to bind my naked queen to her bed.”

  My heart stutters in my chest. “You’re going to tie me up with my own hair?”

  His fingertips—hot to the touch—run along the length of my bare arm. “I can’t have you impaling me with your cold spikes.” He nips at my shoulder. “Besides, I prefer to have all the control.”

  “Perhaps I want the control,” I argue, but quickly melt at his touch.

  His lips press kisses into the side of my neck. “In the bedroom, when it’s just the two of us, I have the control. You wouldn’t know what to do with it anyway. Allow me to ravish you, Cold Queen. It’s what I’m good at.”

  He slides a warm hand to cup my naked breast. I suck in a sharp breath.

  “Beg for me to capture you and tie you up,” he rumbles. “Beg for me to fuck you until you cry.”

  His words have me growing wet between my thighs. “You have a filthy mouth, Volc.”

  “I’m a filthy king, my love.”

  He ties the three ends into a tight knot that makes his forearms flex in a glorious way. Then, he urges me to hold on to the knotted end. I watch with rapt fascination as he braids it neatly.

  “Where did you learn to braid?”

  He smirks. “I’d rather not say.”

  “It’s just us, Ryke,” I say quietly. “Tell me your secrets.”

  His amber eyes flash. “I used to love my mother’s hair. Since the day I was born, I’d play with her hair. When I got older, she taught me to braid it.”

  My heart aches. It makes me miss my own mother. “That’s sweet.”

  But the wicked look in his eyes is anything but. He makes quick work at tying my wrists together. Once he’s bound my wrists, he sits up on his knees and leans forward, tugging my arms above my head.

  “Hold on to that railing,” he commands, his voice husky and deep.

  He ties my hands to the bed and then runs his warm fingertips down my arms. A thrill of excitement ripples up my spine. His breath comes out in a white cloud.

  “Someone enjoys this,” he taunts.

  A flurry of snowflakes flutter around him as if to agree with him. Undeterred by the chill in the room, he continues his teasing, but this time with a single fingertip. He heats it so it’s hot to the touch. I let out a sharp breath, my skin turning bluer than normal, protecting against his burn. He flicks his fiery eyes my way, making every icy part inside of me melt under his gaze.

  His finger circles one of my nipples and it hardens. I ache for him to touch me there, but he ignores my silent pleas. Instead, he caresses my other breast with a single finger, once again ignoring my hard nipple. When his head lowers, his hot breath tickling my bare flesh, I let out a whine as I yank against my restraint.

  “Ryke,” I choke out, my back arching up to encourage him to put his mouth on me.

  “Beg for it, snowflake.”

  I bite on my bottom lip and shake my head. Oh, how I do love to give it right back to him. His amber orbs darken with lust before he gently bites my nipple and tugs.

  “Have it your way,” he growls hotly against my flesh.

  A loud whimper crawls out of me when he moves away from my breasts. My breath is stolen the moment his soft lips press to my ribs. Heat radiates from his mouth and I wonder if he’s summoning his fires or if he truly is just that hot. He parts his lips and flicks out his tongue, tickling my flesh. I squirm and let out a giggle that has my breasts quivering. He darts his eyes to mine. Briefly, they flash with a kind, gentle look. One that contradicts the bold man who has me tied to my bed. In one fleeting expression, he vows to take care of me.

  “Spread your pretty thighs for me,” he rumbles. “I need to see what’s mine.”

  How he reduces me to a begging, trembling, aching mess is beyond me. If it were anyone else, I’d kill them. Not Ryke Bloodsun, King of the Volcs. Truth Seeker and fire maker. Bossy, infuriating man. Breathtakingly beautiful.

  When I don’t obey him, he digs his powerful fingers into my thighs and wrenches them apart. A shameful heat races across my skin, warming me up without his help. The scent of my arousal is thick in the air and I want to shy away from him. One look, though, at his hungry features and I brave through the uncomfortable moment. He positions himself between my legs, bringing his mouth to my center.

  “You’re wet,” he growls, his lips curling into a sinister smile. “Convenient as I’m parched, my queen.”

  My queen.

  I can’t help but flutter my ey
es closed the moment his lips brush against my sex. His tongue licks me along my opening and then circles around the bud of pleasure he already owns.

  “Ryke!” I cry out, opening my eyes to stare at him.

  He shoves my thighs up and out, opening me to him like a flower. This ravenous king wastes no time seeking what it is he’s after. And he has no problems finding it either. The man sucks and bites and licks forbidden places that have me nearly in tears with pleasure. When his thick finger breaches my opening, I whimper.

  “Shhh, my lover,” he whispers against the place that aches for him. “I want to make you scream.”

  The burn of his finger as it reaches into my depths has hot tears rolling down my temples. Despite the pain he’s causing, he’s not doing it cruelly. I soon learn his probing has purpose. Within me, he finds a place that seems to throb for his touch. When he presses against it, I lose all sense of reality. I jolt off the bed, let out a scream of pleasure, and spin in the dark fog of ecstasy. It isn’t until I hear him chuckling that I come to. I blink open my eyes to see that his hair is dusted in snow and the entire room glows light blue. The fire has been snuffed out of the fireplace.

  “Don’t go anywhere,” he says, sliding his finger from within me and giving me a playful wink that has my womb clenching with need.

  Instead of replying to his remark, knowing I’m not going anywhere until he allows it, I track him as he makes his way over to the fireplace. Both of his hands glow orange-red and he kneels at the hearth. A hot flash bursts through the room as he ignites the fire again. Then, he stands and begins shedding his clothes. I can’t help but drink in his perfect form.

  Broad shoulders. Muscular chest. Strong arms.

  He pushes his trousers down and his cock bobs out eagerly. I’m fixated on it. I’ve never seen one up close. Sure, I’ve seen the Eyes of the White men pissing outside before, but never have I seen one that looks like this. It bounces as he prowls my way, a bead of wetness glistening from the tip. His balls hang heavy beneath his impressive length.

  “What, snowflake?” he teases as he crawls onto the bed. “Would you like to take a closer look?”

  He knows me better than I know myself.

  Rather than denying it, I simply nod. His eyes widen a fraction before he straddles my naked body with his powerful thighs. Slowly, he makes his way up the bed until he’s practically sitting on my breasts. He grabs his cock with one of his strong hands and leans forward. His other hand clutches my bound ones, his thumb caressing me gently.

  “Care for a taste, Cold Queen?”

  I lick my lips. “Don’t tease.”

  He arches a brow and chuckles. “As you wish.”

  The tip of his cock is brought to my lips and he runs it back and forth along my bottom one. I dart out my tongue and seek out the wetness to see what he tastes like. Salty and masculine. My tongue circles the soft crown of his cock, eager to learn more of him. He groans in a way that makes me ache for him. I don’t understand his power over me, but I’d gladly yield to him over and over again. I crave to be at his will. Desperate to taste more of him, I wrap my lips around him, loving the hiss that escapes him.

  “You’ve earned the title of Punisher,” he growls. “You’ll tease me to madness, my queen.”

  My queen.

  I run my tongue along the underside of his length, craving to make him weak for me despite me being the one bound and beneath him. He allows me to taste him a moment longer before he jerks away from me.

  Pure fury contorts his handsome face.

  Did I do something wrong?

  A chill races down my spine as he slowly slides back down the bed, his angry eyes never leaving mine.

  “What did I do wrong?” I demand in a whisper.

  The fierce look softens. “Absolutely nothing.”

  “What then?”

  He wrenches my thighs apart. “You were about to finish things early and I’d like to be deep inside you when that happens.”

  My erratic heart slows at his words. I didn’t do anything wrong because I did it exactly right. Pride has confidence returning as he settles between my legs. I dig my heels into his back, urging him closer to me. His hot cock slides through the fine hair of my sex, teasing me.

  “Will you do this with my sister once you’ve had your fill?” I mutter, trying and failing to keep the hurt from my voice.

  Instead of answering me, he leans forward to take my mouth with his. I taste the muskiness of myself. I’m curious and distracted from what he’s doing down south until his thickness is pushing into me brutally. A loud sob rips from me as he drives deep inside. The singe of hair can be smelled as he releases me from my bindings. His fingers dive into my hair and he doesn’t move an inch.

  “Look at me, my beautiful, sweet queen,” he commands, his voice gruff.

  I blink away tears and find his intense, amber stare. My bottom lip wobbles and he presses a soft kiss to it.

  “Hear me and hear me well.” His brows furrow as he regards me. “I only want you.”

  My heart flutters in my chest. “This hurts, Ryke.”

  “I’ve taken your innocence, snowflake. It’s a brutal matter. But soon, your body will adjust to mine. You’ll realize we fit together perfectly.” His lips urge mine to part and he kisses me deeply, his tongue sliding against mine in a gentle way. “The ache will fade and the fire will ignite. Burn with me, my queen.”

  He distracts me with another kiss as he slides out of me. Then, with another hard thrust of his hips, he drives back into me. I moan against his mouth. The pain is contorting into an unusual sense of pleasure. Even though he hurts me, I like being impaled by him. I’ve never been this close to another person. It’s surreal. Bordering on magical. I fear I might wake from a dream at any moment and this entire encounter with Ryke will have been a dream.

  Then I’d be back to the lonely cold.

  Sad and fading.

  A dying queen.

  “You’re crying,” he rasps. “My queen, please don’t cry. I only wish to bring you pleasure.”

  My fingers slide into his hair and I kiss him deeply. Him being in my arms—inside me—is more pleasure than I’ve ever known. I don’t want it to be a dream. I need for it to be real. I need him.

  “Don’t stop,” I plead. “Make me yours.”

  His hips buck against me, desperate and feral. I give myself to him in every way. My mouth, my body, my heart. I may regret this in the morning, but in this moment, I regret nothing. Raking my nails down his shoulders, I revel in the hiss that escapes him. He thrusts harder into me. Owning and possessive. A king laying claim to a queen. I’m jerked out of my mind and reminded what he’s doing to my body when his hand slips between us. His fingers strum my nub of pleasure in an effortless way that has me exploding within seconds.

  As I climax, diamondblades slowly extract from my fingertips, barely piercing into his flesh. It takes every amount of self-control I have to keep from stabbing my dark king lover. The beast inside me rages and thrashes, seemingly thrilled at its escape. My gift feels as though I can see it, touch it, harness it.

  “Elzira,” he groans, his hips flexing a moment before his heat floods inside of me. He thrusts a few more times before collapsing on me. A small chuckle rumbles from him, heating my neck where his face is buried. “You cut me.”

  I run my fingers along his wounds, sealing them up effortlessly. It invigorates me how easily I am able to use my gift. When the thrill fades, I realize he’s spurt his seed into me. My body stiffens as I wonder what will happen.

  “You would chance filling the womb of a dying woman?” I ask, my voice shaky with emotion. “Reckless, horrible king.”

  I don’t mean it.

  He’s not horrible at all.

  “As long as you have me, snowflake, you’re not going anywhere.”

  His words, although empty promises, fill me with warmth and joy and hope.

  “You’re not horrible,” I breathe, stroking my fingers up his spine. />
  He doesn’t respond, simply kisses my neck.

  Kisses and kisses and kisses until he’s hard again inside me. This fire maker plans on keeping me hot all night long.

  Not horrible at all.

  Not even a little bit.

  I don’t want to die. I want to live. And I want to keep this man.

  Ryke

  It’s adorable when she hides from me. As though her curtain of white-and-blue-streaked hair will somehow keep her crimson cheeks from my eyes. I see my blushing queen. Red-faced and recently ravished. She pretends as though I’m not blatantly staring at her as she pulls on one of her fancy dresses adorned with diamonds.

  All through the night, I took her. Over and over again. She didn’t protest, not once. No, she dug her nails into my flesh and begged. My sweet, beautiful queen begged for more.

  I groan because my cock is hardening once more. The timing is ill considering we have duties this morning. I’ve decided she and I will share our breakfast in the dining room before heading to a meeting with my men. The Damned are coming and I want to make sure we have a plan of attack. And then, there’s the matter of allowing her to see her sister.

  Anger, hot and violent, surges through me.

  I want to keep my queen all to myself.

  She’s safer that way.

  “I’m ready,” she says, lifting her chin to finally meet my eyes.

  Her color is no longer pale and bluish. She’s pink and flushed. Beautiful. But far underdressed.

  “Where’s your shawl?” I demand.

  “I don’t wear anything to cover my arms…” She frowns, a troubled expression on her pretty face.

  “And why don’t you wear anything to cover your arms?” I implore.

  Her brows furrow deeper. “I don’t see you offering your cape,” she snaps, storming toward the door.

  Fire runs through the blood of the ice queen.

  “Not so fast,” I growl, snagging her arm as she passes.

  Cold, chilly flesh.

  Anger at the situation has me summoning my fires to warm her with my touch. Her rigid posture relaxes. I release her to unfasten my cape. Once I remove it, I tie it around her, letting it drape heavily over her shoulders.