Grim
But the moment she had writhed upon him, he had lost control completely.
“Fuck,” he cursed as he shifted uncomfortably, already overcome just by the memory of it. He had never felt like that in his long life. Not even close. The encounters he’d had were fine, and unmemorable, and served a purpose. He had never even wanted to kiss anybody before now.
But this . . . this had been like a wave sweeping him off his feet. Like he had discovered some other form of gravity. Like he had just discovered a new sensation entirely.
He growled as he got out of bed. He needed to get out of this room. Out of his filthy head. He nearly dented the door as he shoved it open, making the attendants waiting outside jolt.
He didn’t spare them a glance. And as he stormed down the halls, all he could think about was her. How he had pressed her against the stone of the dungeon walls. He only now realized she might have been cold. But under his lips, her skin had been warm.
No. He wasn’t going to think about her skin. She was a prisoner for a reason. She was the biggest threat to him and his realm. There was no denying it.
Then why did the thought of her dying make him frown, beyond the possibility of it leading to his own demise? Why had he nearly leveled this fortress when he saw those knights put their hands on her?
Grim swept into the galaxy room. Cronan was there, like he always was, staring up at all that he had conquered.
“Show me again,” Grim said.
Cronan glanced over at him. “What?”
“The future. I want to see it.”
Cronan didn’t ask any more questions. In a billow of smoke that emitted from the charm on his crown, there she was. Looking almost the same as she did now. Staring up at him. Telling him she loved him.
Then stabbing him in the heart.
“Again.”
He repeated it.
“Again.”
Cronan showed him again and again. Then, when he tired of his descendent, he kept the vision going as he left the room.
Grim didn’t know how long he stood there watching. It must have been hours. By then, he had memorized every lilt in her voice. Every expression in her face. Every line of the intricate blade.
The sound it made as it entered his chest.
Until he could finally breathe steadily again.