Scarred (Never After Series)

“So, what does your brother want?”

I glance at Lady Beatreaux from my peripheral as we walk down the long corridor. It’s an unusually bright day in Saxum, the clouds breaking just enough to send small rays of sunshine through the stained-glass windows and splay across her skin. My fingers flex, wanting to grab my pencils and sketch out the vision.

“He’s the king. He doesn’t have to want anything to get it.”

She smirks. “You sound bitter.”

“Do I?”

“A little.” Her shoulders lift. “Are you?”

My chest twists as I slip a joint from behind my ear and place it in my mouth, my tongue flicking the edge as it rolls across my lips. My private tutors called it an oral fixation, right before they’d try to lash it out of me, saying it was uncouth for a prince to be seen with things in his mouth. I tried to explain it kept me calm; kept away the obsessive thoughts and the anxiety churning like a stew in my gut. But they didn’t care how it made me feel, only what it made me look like.

“Are we friends now, little doe?” I ask.

“Stop calling me that.”

She cuts me a glare and my heart pounds, excited to be riling her up. “You’re very demanding. Has anyone ever told you that?”

“And you’re rude,” she retorts.

“It’s not an outstanding quality for a queen consort,” I continue. “You may want to work on that before your etiquette courses start and they beat it out of you.”

Her footsteps falter and she stops, spinning to face me.

“Beat it out…” Her voice trails off as she watches me, and I sense the tension in the air growing thick even before her gaze snags on my scar. It tightens around me until my lungs compress, but I revel in the discomfort.

“Don’t worry.” My finger taps against the raised flesh on my brow. “This isn’t a result of bad manners. Not mine anyway.”

She nods but doesn’t avert her eyes. “Thanks for the tip.”

I move to walk again, but she reaches out, her fingers wrapping around my wrist to keep me in place. My gaze drops to where we’re connected, heat flooding through my veins.

“Tell me about the rebels,” she demands.

My gut jolts and I spin to face her, allowing her touch to linger on my skin. I trail my eyes along her form, starting at the tip of her black-as-night curls, over her deep-chocolate eyes, before sliding down to the cleavage peeking from the top of her bloodred dress.

My cock grows stiff as I imagine ripping the fabric from her chest and sliding my length between the swell of her breasts until I’m crazy with the need to come.

She drops my wrist and backs up a space, her chin lifting like it always does right before she becomes defiant. The move showcases the expanse of her neck, and my fingers twitch to leave prints on her like paint on a canvas.

Slowly, I take the unlit joint from my mouth, placing it behind my ear as I bring my eyes back to hers. “What would you like to know?”

“Everything. I want… wait.” Her brows draw in. “You’re not going to fight me on it? Tell me I shouldn’t speak of them or ask questions?”

I tilt my head. “Now, why would I do that?”

“Everyone else has, I just—” Her teeth sink into her bottom lip.

The sight of her marring her own flesh sends another spike of desire through me, and before I can stop, I’m moving toward her, excitement sparking my insides when she retreats. I continue until she’s underneath the stone arches of the window, her body pressing against the greens and yellows of the stained glass.

Her eyes flick from my face to the hallway and back as if she’s scared someone will walk by and see us.

I enjoy making her nervous.

The mask she wears for the world drops away when it’s just the two of us.

“I’m not everyone else, little doe.” I step in farther.

The yellow specks in her eyes make my stomach tighten. I bring a hand up, running the backs of my fingers along her cheek, liking the way she flinches, either from the touch itself or the cool metal of my rings.

“It would be such a shame to lose that inquisitive mind,” I murmur. “I don’t wish to stifle it. I wish to break it apart and see what other questions I can find.”

Her hands move behind her until they’re pushing against the window, the colors creating a beautiful halo around her body as if she’s divinity in human form, brought to earth to tempt me from my violent deeds.

But I already know she’s no angel.

My fingers continue down until I’m grazing against her neck. I expect her to pull away, but once again she surprises me, tilting her head as if she craves my touch.

“You put a lot of trust in me, asking about a rebel faction and thinking I won’t throw you in the dungeons and chain you up.”

Her pulse thrums beneath my thumb, and my muscles cramp in anticipation at the way her nerves show themselves to me, no matter how much she tries to hide them.

“You wouldn’t,” she breathes.

“You’re so sure?” My grip tightens around her throat, wanting to feel her pulse flutter as I whisper dirty words into her ear. “I think you’d look lovely tied to a wall and begging for mercy.”

Something wild unleashes inside of me as her pupils dilate, my balls jerking, making my length pulse against the fabric of my trousers. I drop my hand to her waist, moving us until she’s pressed into the alcove of the window’s archway, our bodies centimeters apart.

“You shouldn’t be touching me,” she whispers. “If someone sees… they could put us to death.”

“What are you going to do, take out your cute little dagger and try to bleed me dry?” I ask, my hand pushing against her torso so she’s flattened against the wall. “Would you like to keep pretending? I know you’re not the good girl you claim to be.”

Her palms jump to my chest, fingers digging into my black tunic. I lean in, my nose skimming along her hairline, breathing in her soft floral scent. “I see what you try so hard to hide.”

I feel out of control. Every single piece of me is raging to grab her, and fuck her, and brand her, and keep her, which is crazy because I don’t even want her.

“You don’t have to hide from me, little doe.”

“I’m not hiding,” she purrs, her lips brushing against mine. “I’m revolted.”

Footsteps sound from down the hall and we pull away from each other, her fingers tangling in the thin chain of her necklace.

I spin away, cursing myself for being so idiotic. Why would I touch her in the middle of the hallway?

Why would I touch her at all?

She’s right. If anyone knew, it would be disastrous. My brother would jump on the chance to arrest and put me to death. He wouldn’t actually be able to kill me, of course. I’d be gone before he could announce the trial but being outcast to the shadowed lands isn’t helpful to my goals at the moment.

Anger whips through me like a windstorm and I turn a glare on Lady Beatreaux. Is she bewitching me on purpose?

“Stop looking at me like that,” she hisses.

“Such a smart mouth,” I snap. “Watch how you speak to your prince.”

Her lip curls. “You are absolutely insane, aren’t you?”

My teeth grind, irritation slashing against my skin.

“Your Highness,” a deep voice booms off the stone walls, a royal guard walking toward us. He stops a few paces away and bows.

“What?” I hiss, twisting toward him.

His gaze bouncing between us. “Am I interrupting?”

Annoyance licks at my spine, but before I can reply, Lady Beatreaux steps forward, her energy having changed in the blink of an eye into something harsher. Something more regal.

Her head rises high, her back is straight, and she looks every bit like the queen she’s about to become. “Who are you to question him?”

My cock throbs so violently I have to bite back the groan.

The guard’s eyes narrow and he points to his chest. “I’m a commander in the king’s army.”

“And she is your new queen,” I snap, moving so she’s behind me.

The guard’s gaze widens as he looks back and forth between us, and it’s only then I realize he may have seen more than I thought.

I brush my hand down the sleeve of my black tunic, annoyed that I have to take time out of my day to solve this issue. “What’s your name?”

“Antony,” he replies.

“Antony.” I smile. “Is anyone expecting you?”

He shakes his head, caution waving like yellow flags in his eyes.

“Wonderful. You’ll come with me then. I was just on my way to collect a guard about a pressing security matter.” I tip my head toward Lady Beatreaux. “Milady, I trust you can find your own way to my brother?”

She stares at me for so long, I become convinced she knows what I’m about to do, and I expect her to step in and put a stop to it, the way anyone else would.

But instead, she drops into the slightest curtsy, her eyes never leaving mine. “Your Highness.”

And then she walks away.