The King

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Chapter 33


My body craves his touch. The frazzled nerves and stress I've felt all but melts away as his hands roam over my body, bringing me to heights I've learned to anticipate when it comes to Cyrus.

His mouth covers my beaded nipple, and I can feel his tongue laving over the sensitive flesh. I arch my back needing more. And he gives it to me. His hand moves between my legs lighting the fire that only he can with such ease. He purrs in delight to find me wet and wanting for him.

His fingers expertly rub my clit, before dipping inside of me, filling me. I open my mouth letting my moan echo off the walls of my small hut.

I don't know if or when the hunters will come looking for their missing comrades, but Cyrus doesn't seem to care in the least. He dragged me back here, and hasn't spoken a word to from the moment his lips met mine.

His hands are warm and slightly roughened from recent battles. He lets go of my nipple coming up to kiss me on the lips, dipping his tongue in my mouth. Each stroke of his tongue sends me to new heights and I find myself squirming against his fingers, trying to find release. He notices the action and chuckles softly against my lips.

"What do you want, Anna?" he murmurs. His voice causes goosebumps to break out across my skin. I can feel his hand threading through my hair as he cranes my neck so that he can suck on it.

"Tell me what you want, Annalise. Or I won't give it to you," he says.

"I... I want you," I whisper. All of my anger and shame disappears. Cyrus never keeps pleasure from me when I ask. And this time is no different. He pulls his fingers out of me, replacing it with the thick head of his cock.

He doesn't waste any time as he thrusts inside of me, causing me to cry out in pain mingled with pleasure. It's been so long, my body takes a second to remember what it's like to have him inside of me. He fills me up to the point of not knowing where I begin or end. All I know is the pleasure he gives.

His arms wrap under my legs, his palms flattening against my back as he begins to thrust inside of me. I place my hands against his chest to steady myself, and I mentally take note of the soft warmth that his skin gives under my fingers.

He leans closer to me, picking me up with ease. I let out a strangled gasp as more intense pleasure ripples through me. He penetrates me deeper and quicker at this angle, and I can no longer contain my moans.

"Ah, Ah, Ah!" Cry out and I can feel the electric pulse of my orgasm hit me with sudden intensity. Cyrus's eyes meet mine and he has a small smirk on his lips as he watches me seize up in pleasure, my body violently pulsing against him. His lips cover mine and he swallows my moans, guiding me through my orgasm.

"You didn't follow instructions, Annalise."

Cyrus is standing over me, fastening his pants. He looks at me with those dark eyes and I immediately look away. Seeing Cyrus was the last thing I was expecting to happen. But now that he's here, I feel even more terrified and uncertain of my future. I don't know how to tell him about his father. I don't know how he's going to react to my being pregnant. So I stay silent and let him scold me as he always does.

"I told you to come back to me, and you travelled into the enemy's territory with a half-baked plan," he says in irritation.

"My apologies, your majesty," I whisper. He looks at me from across the room, and I feel squeamish under his gaze. I didn't miss this feeling he gives me. The fireplace casts a warm glow over him, adding to his intimidation. His eyes finally leave mine and he looks around the hut, making a face.

"What exactly were you hoping to accomplish with this plan?" he asks. I finally look back at him, my voice catching in my throat.

"I-" Tears well up in my eyes as I stare at him in fear. I'm scared. I've always been scared of Cyrus. But as I recently found out, Cyrus's only hesitation in this war was the hope that his father was alive. He frowns at my sudden change in mood.

"Speak, Annalise," he snaps. I open my mouth. I try my hardest, I really do. But I can't. I can't force it out. He comes closer to me causing all of my fear to double.

"Why did you use my seal?" he asks. His eyes search my body for distress but he sees none.

"You don't look to be hurt, and you weren't using it when those hunters were chasing you."

I'm trembling at this point. I can't get my brain to work. Or my mouth. I can't get anything to work as I look into the eyes of the king. The real king. The beasts' king.

"Speak, Annalise!" he shouts. I immediately get up off the bed, falling to my knees.

"I'm sorry, your majesty! I tried. I swear, I tried... It wasn't enough... I couldn't find a way to free him. I couldn't save him once he was in the stronghold, I was weak, I tried to follow his orders, I-"

My body is pulled up from the ground and in an instant my back collides with the wall. I cry out in shock and when I open my eyes, my breathing stops. Cyrus's gaze is something I've never seen before. Not even when I first encountered him at the river of my village. The dark part of his eyes have sharpened into a slits. I find myself paralyzed in fear at the close proximity of this...beast.


His voice is cold and dead. The sound alone causes my blood to run cold and I find myself trembling in his arms. His aura has completely changed. He isn't the same beast he was only seconds ago.

"Your father... he... he was killed... in the stronghold,"

A loud crack fills the room and I cry out in pain. Cyrus drops me and I realize in shock that he crushed my arm. I don't know if he did it on purpose, or from the shock of the news, but it doesn't matter.

I hold my arm in pain, biting my lip hard enough to draw blood. I don't dare make a sound. I don't dare remind him that I am even here. He stands above me, rigid. If he weren't holding me only seconds ago I would think he was a statue.

The temperature of the hut drops just from Cyrus's presence alone. And I regret in this moment that I didn't just jump on the hunters sword the moment I saw Cyrus standing in that clearing. I would rather be dead than on the end of Cyrus's wrath.

"Get up," he snaps. I try my best to stand, whimpering in pain as it jostles my arm. I turn to see him putting the rest of his armor on. His face is blank of any emotion. It terrifies me.

His eyes finally meet mine and he narrows his gaze at me. He makes his way towards me and out of instinct I step back. I don't get far though. His hand lashes out, grabbing me and roughly pulling me in close to him.

"Do. Not. Look at me. You do not have that right, slave," he hisses. I can hear my breathing coming out in pants and the tears silently stream down my face.

"M-my apologies... your majesty," I whisper. He doesn't respond to me as he walks to the door of the hut pulling it open. He doesn't say another word to me as he walks through the opening, but I know better than to make him have to call for me. I don't look back as I follow him through the mountainside.

It takes a while, but we finally reach what Cyrus was heading for. His war camp. It's massive. It stretches further than my eyes can see.
Cyrus hasn't said a word to me. Nor has he bothered to heal my arm. It's numb and I can feel myself beginning to shift in and out of consciousness. I trudge slowly behind the king, trying my best to remain awake. But the edges of my vision are beginning to dim.
"Your Majesty!" I hear the familiar sound of Felix's voice. But I don't dare look up. I keep my eyes trained on the ground.
"Cyrus? What's wr-"
"How many humans have we rounded up on the trip here?" he asks. Felix is silent for a moment before responding.
"One-hundred sixteen, your majesty."
"Kill them all," he says.
"Since when do I have to ask twice, Captain?" he snaps.
I feel a rough pull on my arm, and I stumble forward, collapsing in the dirt between Cyrus and Felix.
"Take her to a healer. Have them check her condition. Have her cleaned and sent to my tent," he says.
"Yes, your majesty."
I'm trembling as Cyrus walks away, his newfound presence already affecting the tension in the camp. I slowly look up to see Felix watching his retreating form. A small frown is on his lips. He lets out a breath, and looks at me.
"What have you done, slave?"
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