Page 2 of Throne of Ice and Blood
I narrow my eyes at Draven. “You took my clothes off?”
“You’ve been asleep for three days.” He lifts his toned shoulders in a nonchalant shrug. “I figured you would be more comfortable in that than a ballgown.”
My stomach drops, and it takes everything I have not to show my shock. Three days? I’ve been out forthree days?
While still trying to cover my panic and shock, I shoot Draven a hard look. “So you took it upon yourself to strip me naked while I was unconscious?”
A slow and vicious smile curls his lips. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”
My heart jerks at the reminder of that afternoon in the underground forest when he pushed me up against that rock wall and fucked me exactly the way I wanted him to. Like I was his.
“And besides,” he continues. A ruthless and highly possessive glint shines in his eyes as he holds my gaze. “Would you rather it had been a random stranger who stripped you down to your underwear and changed your clothes?”
The thought of that sends a pulse of dread through me. It’s followed by the infuriating realization that he’s right. I couldn’t very well sleep in a ballgown for three days. And I most certainly wouldn’t have wanted some stranger to change my clothes.
But I will die before I ever admit that to him, so I just scoff and slide towards the edge of the bed instead.
Sheets tangle around my limbs. I shove them away impatiently before swinging my legs over the side of the bed.
“You shouldn’t—” Draven begins.
I shove myself to my feet.
My legs immediately buckle.
I suck in a sharp breath between my teeth as I topple towards the floor.
But right before I can hit it, a pair of strong arms wrap around my body and hoist me back up. My heart jerks as I suddenly find myself with my cheek pressed against Draven’s bare chest. His body is warm against mine. And his intoxicating scent of night mist and embers fills my lungs when I draw in a breath. It makes fire surge through my veins.
Which immediately makes me angry.
Struggling upright, I give his chest a hard shove. “Don’t touch me.”
“The first draining is always the hardest,” he says as if I hadn’t spoken.
And he doesn’t let me go either. He keeps his hands on my shoulders and watches me with scrutinizing eyes until he is satisfied that I can stand on my own. Once he is, he finally releases me. But he doesn’t step back.
My head spins, and my stomach aches with hunger, and exhaustion from the iron collar still clings to my bones, so I don’t dare to move yet either. I need to let my body adjust after three days of lying in a bed. So instead of putting some much-needed distance between us, I settle for tilting my head back and glaring up at him.
“The first andonlydraining,” I retort.
His face is an unreadable mask as he holds my gaze. “Draining you of magic is the entire purpose of a life slave.”
“I am not your slave.”
“That collar around your neck says otherwise.”
“If you ever drain me again, I will kill you.”
He slowly wraps a hand around my throat and holds me firmly in place while his eyes sear into mine. “You and I both know that if I want to take it, I can.”
My heart thumps in my chest. And as much as I hate it, hate it with every fiber of my being, I know that he is right. With the iron collar both blocking my magic and sapping my strength, I would never be able to fight him off. He can do whatever he wants with me, and there is nothing I can do to stop him. He knows it. And I know it. So in the end, I just stand there with my chin raised and hold his gaze in silence.
He lets his hand drop from my throat. “But I won’t.”
Shock pulses through me.
“We had an audience back in the throne room,” Draven continues. “Now, we don’t.”
