Chains to Crowns

Marc sighed to himself. It had been a long week. He had more reports than he wanted to get through, Wade was pissing him off… nothing specific just him. He rubbed his temples feeling a headache coming on. It was late, but the guards were going through their punishment, he needed to go check on them but he knew Klara would be finishing her lessons for the day any minute.

‘Klara, have you finished?’

’Just coming back to the wing.”

‘Come to my office, please.’

A few minutes later, the soft knock indicated her arrival. She pushed open the door without his invitation. A small smile graced his lips as she entered. Her back was straighter, her eyes glittering with a confidence that had strengthened in the last few days. “Come here,” he patted his thigh and she instantly strode to him, settling on his lap. “You’re… stressed?”

“Yes,” he confirmed, proud she was able to tell the difference. He wrapped his arms securely around her nuzzling her neck and breathing deeply.

He smiled against her, nudging her blouse down her shoulder. “How was your day?” he asked, planting feather light kisses to the flesh he had revealed.

“I think I’m getting the hang of the rules. Why do you have so many wine glasses and cutlery?”

Marc chuckled. “Makes us feel important. Just remember, start from the outside and work your way in. The smaller the wine glass the sweeter the wine.”

“I messed that up today, said the dessert wine went in the red wine glass… Elsbeth laughed saying she agreed but it wasn’t right.”

“You’re doing fine.” He grazed his teeth against her shoulder, eliciting a shiver through her body.

“Now you’re turned on,” she whispered, wriggling over his trousers.

“You don’t have to say how I feel,” he chuckled.

“It’s weird separating what are your emotions and what are mine.”

“How about we both feel the same?” he rumbled, sliding her back so she was fully seated on his arousal. He ran his hand down her stomach, sliding to the hem of her skirt. “We’ve done it every night,” she giggled.

“Problem?”

“Nuh huh.” She rubbed against him with more vigour. He groaned, his eyes fluttering shut. “That good?” she whispered.

“Perfect.” His fingertips hooked her skirt and worked it over her thighs.

“Sh-shouldn’t we go to the bedroom?”

“It doesn’t just have to be in the bedroom.” He lifted her and spun her to straddle him in the chair. “We can make love anywhere.” He cupped her cheek, letting her relax into his palm. “Trust me?” he breathed.

She snuggled into his palm, sinking into his warmth, “Yes.”

He smiled, reaching up to plant a sensual kiss to her lips.

’My King.’ A mind link came through.

’Not now!’ he snapped back.

He pressed his tongue gently into Klara’s mouth, kneading her thigh. Her sensitive area grazed his crotch releasing a moan from her throat.

‘I’m sorry, My King. Silversmith wants to accept the crown.’

Marc sat upright, having to grip Klara for her not to fall from his lap. “What is it?” She frowned at him. He debated leaving it half an hour, his hands wrapped around her waist. “Marc?”

He sighed, resting his forehead against hers. “Your father wants to accept the crown.”

“He’s alive?”

“For now. I need to decide what to do with him.”

“I don’t want him here.”

“Well, my Queen, what would you like to be done with him? I have some ideas,” the tone of gleeful devilishness wasn’t lost on Klara.

“I-I don’t know.” Her stomach tightened and squirmed. To be honest she’d thought he’d be dead already.

Marc wrapped her in his arms securely, “You don’t have to make that decision. It was only if you want to. Does wolfie have anything to say?”

Klara felt her wolf push and she let her. They’d been learning to work together rather than being in a battle of wills. “Pump him full of silver, make him suffer, make him hurt like he did for my little skin form.” He pulled her into his chest, kissing her head.

“He’s already got silver in him. You wouldn’t recognise him. He can never ever hurt you again.”

“Lash him to death. Make everyone see what happens when you hurt the crown,” the hissing gravelly voice of the wolf sent a shiver down Marc’s spine, he’d be lying if he wouldn’t admit he had a tiny fear of her wolf… but she was on parr with his own so he couldn’t complain. Klara’s wolf was merely more free with her words. “Then that is what shall be done, my Queen.”

Her wolf retreated, knowing she was going to get her own way. He kissed her forehead before gently settling her back to her feet. “I’ve got to go” Marc stood, embracing her in an apology.

“I want to come.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, little one.”

“Why?”

“You don’t need to see your father like that.”

She frowned deeply, “What… I don’t understand.”

“You don’t need to. I’ll be back in twenty minutes.”

“I want to come,” she stated with more force, glaring at him.

He palmed her cheek, “This isn’t the job of a queen, little one.”

“You don’t need to protect me. What have you done to him? What are you hiding?” She folded her arms, a stubborn fierce look on her face.

Damn he loved her.

“We’ve been whipping him. Like he did to you.”

Klara looked down, chewing on her lip. He could detect no emotion from her, he took a step back, letting her think.

Klara frowned at the floor, she wasn’t sure what to do with the information. Maybe she’d been a little naive as to what was happening to her father in the cells. She’d tried not to think about it, diving into the lessons she had found herself in, being too tired to think of much else.

“I want to witness the pledge,” she stated down to the wooden floor. “I need to see it.” She snapped her head up to him, her baby blue eyes hardened steel, “I need to know. I need to see him weak.”

He licked his lips, his face a mask, hiding his thoughts to her. She needed this, she still had fear, still had dreams that her father would come into the room with the whip in hand. She didn’t want Marc to know but she was still scared. She still felt that the door hadn’t closed on that part of her life, it was still ajar and she needed it shut to move on fully.