I straighten my posture, and though Thorn has a mass of muscle that severely outweighs me, my strength is unmatched.
I hear my father’s mumbling dry up, and only when the door closes with a quiet click, do I dare speak to him.
“I know—”
“You think I don’t fucking smell her on you?” His head dips low, his harsh whisper meant for only me. “I see the bruises on her throat. The smell of her cum on his hands is so intoxicating, it leaves no room for the scent of blood that I know is on your friend’s fucking tongue.”
Seven shifts behind me, his body lining up to stand between us and Crymson.
“Crymson.” He looks over me, and the intensity of his stare is heavy when he finds her. “Come here.”
I don’t look back at her. I don’t say a word.
Because the moment he says it, she obeys.
Her scent passes me in a commanding way. The Thorn King is right about how heavily her scent clings to every single part of me, and I didn’t even have her the way I wanted her. I want to wrap her up against my chest and run away from this shitty fucking world I helped my father create.
His hand lifts. Without a word, she slides her palm into his. It’s a form of art between them. A dance that I had no idea she knew the steps to. It’s strange how good you thought you had something with someone... and then seeing what good actually looks like. It’s fluid and easy between them.
Seeing them hand in hand, they don’t look like father and daughter.
They look like lovers.
And vomit stings the back of my throat.
Chapter 22
Crymson
A hypnotic energy pulses through me. It feels like my heart isn’t my own but is laced up with his, mirroring the fast pace of each and every hard beat that pounds within him. Since I arrived here, I’ve never felt magic like this. Whatever is in the mysterious Thorn King, it’s powerful.
He leads us away from the watchful eyes of the garden. Trees surround us. The screams from the hunt are long gone. Only a heavy quiet remains.
The alluring Fae King steps closer, his hand coming up slowly to trace the line of my spine from the lowest part of my back all the way up to the nape of my neck.
He’s my father. He’s my father. He’s my father.
Is this what having a father feels like?
I don’t think it is. But I’ve never felt this connected to anyone in my entire life. The moment he said my name, it was like I was suddenly alive in a world where I’ve only ever felt half dead.
Warm fingers kiss across my shoulder blades before he halts that mesmerizing sensation of his hands on my body.
“Who did this to you?” There’s a jaggedness to his deep voice. His fingers slide down the forgotten scars on my back, my lashes closing hard to hold back the wince threatening to cry out. “Did that disgusting man do this to you? Tell me!” he roars so loudly it shakes my soul.
“Stop!” Christian storms forward, and I realize then that I have felt this feeling before. I have felt this dominating energy swirling inside my chest.When Rorrick bit me. “Let’s calm down. Remember why we’re here tonight.” His erratic gaze is held hard against the small contact of the king’s hand against my back. He tells the Thorn King to be calm when the Blood Prince is anything but.
I glance from one psychotic man to the other, both of them total opposites. It’s like standing between the light and dark side of the moon.
And still feeling cold and lost.
“I didn’t think you’d actually find her,” the Thorn King says on a smooth whisper, his gentle fingers skimming over the line of my collarbone to the curve of my jaw. He looks down on me with the strangest light shining in his icy blue eyes.
And then inky spider webs crack across Christian’s handsome face. His steps pound over the dirt until he’s right up in the king’s face.
“You’re going to want to take your fucking hand off of her before I break it off for you.” Barely controlled rage shakes through his lithe body.
A tinge of amusement kisses the corner of the king’s full lips.