Chapter Twenty-Six
Jet
I battled back the uncertainty I felt about using my powers publicly, needing to remind myself that there was nothing to fear anymore. My father was in his bed, unmoving, no longer a threat. He couldn’t use them against me anymore.
There wasn’t a reason to keep it under wraps.
If anything, I had every reason to let it be known.
Because powers, while not rare, were always respected. A king who could wield them, and did so with restraint, would be admired and honored.
Even if those powers were going to be used to punish threats to the crown.
If it weren’t for Serin’s suggestion, I wasn’t sure I ever would have thought to use it with restraint. To take a small chunk of someone’s pleasure and hold onto it as a punishment. Something that could be earned back.
It felt… fair.
More fair than a life in work camps. Than endless lifetimes in the dungeons, being tortured day in and day out by men who found pleasure in pain.
And I only planned to use it sporadically. For issues like threats to the throne. Otherwise, there would be fines, imprisonment, stripping of titles, things that cause real-world repercussions, but not necessarily gratuitous pain. I never wanted to become like my father.
The chaos had raged outside the palace walls for half a day.
The crowd had started to grow.
It was time to make our next move.
Show me taking the crown and the throne.
Punish those who plotted against us.
Tell the people about a few of my edicts—starting with the dissolution of the work camps.
Hopefully that would be enough to send everyone home, anger dissipated, maybe even with a little excitement about the future.
“Stop looking at me like a wounded animal,” Nira grumbled.
“You are a wounded animal,” Vishen reminded the woman who was propped up in bed with a tray, using it to work on some of her beadwork.
She looked a lot better after Mendalyn’s healer came back and treated her wounds and fed her some sort of tonic that knocked her out cold.
It didn’t escape my notice that the space next to Nira looked like it had been slept on as well.
So that was happening.
I couldn’t imagine a better suited couple. Though I wanted to know how Vishen got someone as guarded as Nira to let him in.
“I have my very own personal healer,” Nira said, smiling at the woman who was bent over a collection of glass vials, pouring the contents from a flask into them. “And a guard,” she added, nodding to the door. “I’m fine. You won’t be more than an hour or two. I’m just mad I can’t be there.”
“We talked about this,” Vishen said. “You’re not risking pulling your stitches.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Nira grumbled. “Good luck,” she said, looking at me. “You are a lucky king to have a queen like Serin at your side.”
“Yeah,” I agreed as the woman in question moved into the doorway.
Her gown was simple and black, skirting the floor but much more form-fitting than the dress she’d worn to the feast and the tournament. It was sleeker, sexier.
I was half-tempted to drag her back across the hall, hike it up, and bury myself inside her until the nerves I was feeling were gone and we were both satisfied and calm.
But there was no time for that.
“Mendalyn went to fetch Tove and the crown,” Serin said as she moved in at my side. “You look better,” she said, smiling at Nira. “Up and doing crafts even.”
“Rumor is, I have a queen to adorn now. I need to get busy. Though, I am still waiting on ‘all the beads in the kingdom’ I was promised.”
“As soon as things are safe out there again, we will secure you anything you want,” I assured her. “Or you can wait until you’re well enough and head to Tenray Square.”
“I will hold you to that.”
“We’ll be happy to deliver.”
“Good. Then go get this pesky part over with so I can have my beads. And you,” she added, looking at Vishen, “stop stalling. I’m fine. You need to make sure Jet and Serin are safe.”
With that, we headed out into the hall, meeting up with Mendalyn, Tove, and a few of Mendalyn’s women.
“Are you nervous?” Serin asked, reaching for my hand.
“Yes,” I admitted, slipping my fingers between hers and squeezing.
Each step felt weighty with all of the responsibility I was about to take on.
“Are you ready?” I asked Tove as he read over notes he had hidden in his pocket.
Tove exhaled.
“Yes. I will keep my part short. They won’t want to hear from me about your plans. I will announce Cass’s condition. I will introduce you as the king. And I will crown you. Then the stage is yours.”
Vishen, Mendalyn, and the other guards’ hands went to their swords as we knocked for the doors to open.
The crowd was large but was backed up enough by the military that no one posed an immediate threat.
Tove cleared his throat and moved forward, starting his little speech about the king’s condition. Which got cheers from the men and women gathered around.
Tove’s voice lifted, loud and clear, to be heard as he continued, talking about the line of succession.
Then he was reaching for the crown and sliding it on my head.
“My King,” he said, pressing a hand to his chest and bowing.
“My King,” Vishen, Mendalyn, and the other female guards repeated.
I glanced around, seeing the rest of the military glance around before saluting me as well.
“Bring forth the prisoners,” I called.
The crowd hushed, eyes widening as they watched the armed women lead Thistlegreen and Carver into the space between them and us.
“You have been charged with treason for plotting to overthrow the throne,” I called, watching eyes widen and hearing some people start to whisper.
“Fortunately for you, there will be no dungeons and no work camps.”
The murmurs grew louder.
“But you will lose something today. Something you can gain back through hard work and loyalty.”
Tove stepped forward, holding two glass jars out, each with a label on it—one for each man’s chip of happiness.
I lifted my arms and commanded my powers.
For one horrifying moment, I thought they wouldn’t manifest. But then I felt the draw, the pull, and saw the men tense and cry out as the chip was carved off and traveled up.
There was a gasp from the crowd as the piece of their happiness appeared out of the men’s bodies, floated in the air, then flew toward me.
I wanted to look, to gauge their reactions, to decide if this would be enough to send everyone home and keep them in line while I made changes.
But I didn’t dare look away from my task.
The last thing I wanted was for shit to go sideways.
So I focused until the swirling orbs were in each container and sealed.
“For now, I took the smallest amount possible. But if I get word that you are still plotting against me, I will take more. And that goes for anyone who plots against me,” I called, making my voice carry. “You will disperse now. You can return tomorrow for the reading of my first round of edicts.”
No one dragged their feet.
Not even the men who’d just had some of their soul torn away.
“These edicts,” Tove said, following me back into the palace.
“The dissolution of the work camps, first and foremost. I want titles and riches stripped from anyone who worked against me. I want another peace treaty drawn up with the Light. That should get us started. Right now, I am going to the throne room. Alone.”
No one argued with me on that, despite knowing how much work we had to do. They all knew how hard I’d been working for this moment, how much I’d been craving it for years.
So I made my way into the throne room, hearing the heavy doors close behind me, and exhaling hard, before walking up to the throne.
I’d tried to sit on it once when I was young. When my father saw me, he’d beaten me so badly I couldn’t get out of bed for weeks. I never tried again.
I reached out, running my hand over the ancient wood, feeling like something in my soul settled into place.
Sucking in a breath, I lowered down.
Worth it.
Every sleepless night. Every time I had to bite my tongue. Every horrific thing I was forced to witness.
It was all worth it to get here.
To get to the throne.
To have the power to make change.
The doors opened with a quiet groan.
When I looked up, I saw Serin making her way in, her look soft. My heart felt the same way looking at her.
I was going to get an order placed for a throne.
She’d earned the right to have a seat right beside me. She’d done more than anyone to get me on the throne.
“You look like you belong there,” she said as she approached.
“I wouldn’t be here without you.”
“I don’t believe that. You’re where you were always meant to be,” she said, lowering down to her feet in front of me.
Her hand went to her heart.
“My King.”
A rumble moved through me at that.
But it grew louder as her hands slid up my thighs, then across my lap.
I was rock-hard before she reached inside to free my cock, then stroked me.
“Take me in your mouth,” I demanded, voice tight with my desire. Because I’d had a lot of fantasies about sitting on the throne the first time. Somehow I never imagined getting sucked off while sitting on it. But now that the thought had formed, I couldn’t think of anything I needed more.
Serin’s eyes widened, then warmed, before she lowered down, opened her mouth, and took me in.
“That’s it,” I groaned, my hands going to the back of her neck. “Suck me as deep as you can. Yes, just like that. Don’t stop,” I demanded.
Serin was an enthusiastic student, gaining confidence with each gasp of breath, each groan of pleasure.
But when she moaned around my length, I grabbed her hair and pulled, because there was one thing that would be better than getting my cock sucked on the throne.
“Climb up here,” I demanded, patting my lap. “I want to fuck my queen on my throne.”
And that was just what happened as she lifted her skirts then lowered herself down on my cock, her moan filling my ears as her walls tightened around me.
Her movements were slow at first.
Like we both recognized that we wanted to savor the moment. But it wasn’t long before she was riding me hard and fast, her moans filling my ears, filling the room.
When we both came, it was loud and powerful, and it felt like the throne itself recognized all the good that was going to come from our union.
And I knew we would work together to make that happen.