Chapter Seventeen
Boraleashe
Yes… Yes What?
Boraleashe ran the tips of his trembling fingers over the raised welts across his abdomen.
Images of the Snow Trolls’ long claws ripping his body apart before his daughters and army flashed across his eyes, making him squeeze them shut in a useless attempt to will the horrific visions away.
He breathed in the aromatic scents his attendants added to his bath.
He eased his worn body deeper into the massive tub and rested his head against the cushioned edge.
Royale poured a ladle of fragrant water over his hair, combing it until there wasn’t a hint of blood or forest soil left in his long tresses. He still didn’t like being catered to, but he was just too exhausted to care for himself.
“Add more chamomile oil and lavender leaves, thank you,” Adresin commanded one of the servants, who was quick to pour more healing herbs into his bath. “Our lord still requires healing.”
Embarrassment burned Boraleashe’s pale cheeks. “Adresin, please stop fussing. As you can see, I’m quite well now.”
His closest confidant and friend glared at him for a long moment before his stern expression relaxed. “We almost lost you, my lord.”
Boraleashe felt horrible that he’d worried the people who cared most for him, but he couldn’t deny who he was. And while his fighting days should’ve been well behind him, it was still his duty to defend his kingdom with his life.
The worst part was that he still wasn’t safe. The Snow Moon’s assassins had failed. Now, it would come itself with its final—more than likely successful— attempt to claim his life.
The realization of that fact was evident in Adresin’s dark eyes. He wasn’t sure Boraleashe could pull off another miracle.
No one understood how he’d been healed within seconds of almost dying.
Boraleashe wasn’t sure either, but he remembered being at the underworld’s door, the spirit of death and doom extending its gnarled hands in his direction.
He’d closed his eyes, defeat settling into his bones.
Then he blinked, and the pain and ache had gone, replaced with light and tranquility that reached his soul.
Boraleashe was still fuzzy on the details. However, one thing was for certain: he’d felt Theodor’s presence as strongly as he’d felt the serene healing flowing over him. The king had been there the entire time.
A foreign sensation bloomed in the center of his chest, sending an eruption of chills down his spine. Boraleashe held in the clawing groan that wanted out as emotion flooded his heart. The foreign feeling ramped up the speed of his pulse beyond his control.
“Are you okay, lord? Do you need the healers?” Royale asked, pausing his brushing.
Boraleashe had to clear his throat several times. Bolts of energy—passion-filled, sexy energy—throbbed between his legs to the soles of his feet. “Yes. I’m fine, Royale.”
Like hell he was fine. Something was happening to him.
Boraleashe tried to regulate his ragged breaths, but nothing was working.
He was still struggling minutes later, his staff noticing and taking concern, but before they could act, the sound of heavy footsteps headed toward him.
Boraleashe sat up straight, his head spinning.
He wasn’t afraid—there were thirty of his elite guards posted outside the double doors—but he had a suspicion it wouldn’t matter if there was an entire legion positioned outside.
It wasn’t going to stop the man who wanted inside.
“Step aside from the doors, or I will remove you myself.” The bass and power in Theodor’s voice was strong enough for Boraleashe to feel in his chest. “I will not caution you twice.”
The determined footfalls didn’t slow when the commander of his guards responded, “Highness, our lord is still in his bathing chambers, and Adresin instructed that he not be—”
Boraleashe didn’t flinch at the frightened yells or the loud thuds that slammed into the walls in the corridor. Seconds later, both doors flew open on a determined gust of warm wind, and Theodor strolled inside with his long emerald robe dragging on the marble floor behind him.
Boraleashe’s heart paused at the sight of the king.
By the gods, he was beyond stunning. He was wearing a gold-embroidered tunic displaying his coat of arms. His leather riding boots were a rich brown, the same as his trousers, the fine linen hugging his strong thighs.
Theodor’s armor was gone, but he carried Gold Reaper sheathed in his right hand.
Boraleashe blew out a ragged exhale, the Treasure causing blood to rush to his face, and he hated that his fair skin showed every bit of it. Theodor moved further into the room, gazing down at Boraleashe’s naked body in the clear water with craving sizzling in his eyes.
Theodor didn’t speak. He walked with purpose past the ivory columns and stopped near the grand fireplace that had a minimal flame burning for ambience only. None of the attendants moved; even Adresin stood rooted in place.
The king was still for a long moment, staring into the fire, the silence and anticipation driving Boraleashe to the brink of madness. Still, he didn’t utter a word. Because whatever was happening in his mind and body was beyond the scope of his vocabulary.
“Leave us,” Theodor ordered, not turning around.
The attendants were the first to scurry out the door, heads bowed in respect, not willing to chance experiencing whatever Theodor did to the guards outside.
Adresin stuttered a moment, and Royale was careful as he backed away from the tub.
“I will not caution you twice.” Theodor extended his hand toward the fireplace, his palm glowing a fiery orange that made the flames ignite and soar like an inferno.
Boraleashe’s heart stuttered. Demonic magic.
“Gods, what is happening here,” Adresin gasped, hastily ushering Royale and himself out of the doors, then pulling them closed tight behind them.
The lion has roared, that’s what happened.
“It relieves my heart to see you healed and well, Boraleashe.”
Hearing his name in Theodor’s rich tenor and watching his full lips curve around the syllables sent another wave of pleasure to his groin. Boraleashe closed his eyes, the rush of desire causing him to slam his back against the edge of the tub.
Theodor rumbled a hum that sounded like approval, sauntering closer. “Look at me.”
Theodor’s every ask was a command he expected to be followed.
And of course, Boraleashe did. His eyelids fluttered open, trying to focus through his hazy vision, but the handsome king was almost too much to receive.
While Boraleashe’s body and emotions were going haywire, he hadn’t registered that Theodor removed his long robe and was dragging the hem of his tunic over his head.
Theodor’s chestnut waves hung loose around his shoulders and down his back. He regarded Boraleashe with those light eyes, and he found he couldn’t look away. He swallowed hard when Theodor loosened the drawstring on his trousers and let them fall in a heap at his boots.
It’d been so long since Boraleashe had felt anything even resembling want, but watching this powerful titan strip naked for him, he felt the electricity of the sensation pulse in his groin.
After centuries of hibernation, his cock responded to seeing Theodor’s half-hard one swinging between strong, hairy thighs.
Boraleashe’s fantasy come true was halted when Theodor cursed and yanked his foot out of the ice-cold water. Unable to resist, a sly smirk of satisfaction simmered inside Boraleashe. However, his amusement was cut short at Theodor’s glare pinning him in place.
The king dipped one hand in the water and chanted, “Obarmus strixis,” in a low rumble that caused indescribable heat to saturate the water, the warmth encasing Boraleashe’s oversensitive cock like a glove.
He suppressed another moan, his eyelids getting even heavier as he watched Theodor lower into the water. Boraleashe’s chest pounded, a strong pull tugging in the center of his chest, causing him to force his expression and body to remain still.
“Your discipline always turned me on the most, Boraleashe,” Theodor whispered.
The hot water reached the peaks of Theodor’s olive-toned nipples.
He paused his steps long enough to bend his knees and submerge his full seven-foot frame.
He was only under for a couple of seconds, but it was long enough for Boraleashe to exhale a tight ball of feelings, need, and a shit-ton of fear.
Theodor slowly broke the surface of the water with his head back, neck arched, making his bronze-colored hair cascade down his back like honey on a hive.
He wiped the excess water from his face before smoothing both palms down his broad chest. Theodor was the son of a celestial goddess, and it showed.
“Mmmm, the temperature is perfect now.” A low growl rumbled past Theodor’s lips, and a tortured whimper escaped from his.
Theodor continued toward the alcove Boraleashe rested in, copper irises with flecks of gold boring into him.
“You will need to get used to the warmth, my winter warrior.”
Boraleashe withheld a violent urge to shudder, the brave king’s voice sending a strange sensation to his core. He had to clear his throat too many times, contradicting his composed exterior. His voice was low, his tone stoic when he replied, “It appears so.”
Theodor didn’t stop until their chests touched.
He raised both muscular arms—which were littered with sexy battle scars—and gripped the edge of the tub, caging him in.
Boraleashe’s immediate instinct was to deflect and flee.
It was what the curse always made him do, but whatever was rousing his center wouldn’t allow it.
Theodor slid one of his rough hands over Boraleashe’s hair, caressing his shoulder and down his arm, encircling his waist until he got to his hip. The king yanked him tight against him, his hard cock meeting his own. Boraleashe breathed raggedly against Theodor’s throat.
“It appears so… what?” Theodor stressed, tilting Boraleashe’s chin higher so that he was gazing into eyes smoldering with lust and authority.
“It appears so… my king,” Boraleashe submitted, his voice falling to a whisper at those final words.