Forbidden Craving: The Nymph King / The Beautiful Ashes

Never mind that other women were petting the warriors as if they were innocent house cats.

He ignored Shaye’s question...kind of. “My name is Valerian, and I’m king of the nymphs. I intend to make you my queen.”

Wait, wait, wait. His queen? Was he talking marriage? After a two second introduction?

Can’t process...

In an effort to remain calm, she concentrated on the more trivial details. “Valerian, like the flower? And do you mean you’re king of the nymphos?”

The women were definitely meant to be sex slaves.

“No. We’re nymphs. The word rhymes with lymph.” A pause. “You humans have a flower named Valerian?”

Humans? “Yes, we humans do, and its root is lauded for helping people fall sleep.”

He laughed. “So this strong, mighty root gets women into bed? How appropriate. Your flower must have been named after me.”

Part of her wanted to laugh with him. The other part just wanted to whimper. Had there ever been a more sexual sound?

Her ovaries might have just exploded.

Give in to his desires. They match your own...

What? No! Panicked by her weakening will, Shaye launched into action, slamming her palm into Valerian’s nose.

His head whipped backward, and blood trickled onto his lip.

A shocked pause ensued.

Then, “Why did you do that?” he demanded.

“You’re as dumb as a box of rocks if you can’t figure out the answer on your own.” As she spoke, she bowed her back and kicked her legs. “Let me go!”

His grip on her loosened...as if he feared hurting her? She managed to squirm free and—

Thud. She crash-landed, only to jump to her feet and race away. Go! Go!

No, not without her mom. She switched direction, dragging her gaze over the masses. Her breath emerged in shallow, ragged pants.

Preston lay unconscious on the floor. When he’d aimed a gun at Valerian, another warrior had knocked him out. There was Conner, her new stepdad, frantically crawling away from a redheaded warrior. But there was no sign of Tamara.

Where was she? They might have a rocky relationship, but Shaye couldn’t—wouldn’t—abandon her to...this.

Arms seized her from behind, the grip gentle but firm. Valerian! He’d only touched her once, but she would have recognized the feel of him anytime, anywhere. A white-hot brand.

Her blood ran from blistering to frigid as different emotions flooded her. Relief, lust, anger, confusion and fear.

Choose your attitude. She focused on the anger, turned and kneed Valerian in the balls.

He released a strained wheeze as he hunched over. He might have said, “My precious!”

“Not so eager for me now, are you?”

“That...hurt,” he rasped.

“Of course it did, and there’s more where that came from if you grab me again.” Once again she darted away, still searching...searching...

There!

Conner hadn’t been trying to leave, she realized. He’d been on the lookout for his bride. He now had Tamara trapped in his arms as she struggled to accost a warrior.

Shaye jumped over fallen chairs and skirted around overturned tables, slipping and sliding along a river of red punch. Someone else snaked an arm around her waist and hauled her against a stone wall of a chest.

His scent wasn’t quite as exotic as Valerian’s. Even his skin felt different, cooler, smoother. While his arms had a thick veil of dark hair, Valerian’s possessed only a dusting of honey-blond.

She slammed the back of her head into his chin, her entire body vibrating with the force of the blow.

He growled a word she’d never heard, no doubt a curse. His arms fell away from her; she whirled on him, ready to fight to the death. His!

She never should have come here. Nothing good ever happened at her mom’s weddings.

The he-man regarded her through narrowed blue eyes. “I only meant to kiss you,” he said, in English this time, his voice so heavily accented she had trouble deciphering the words.

When her frantic mind deduced his meaning, she slapped him.

“Ow!” He rubbed his cheek.

“Kissing a woman without permission is not okay,” she shouted.

He...pouted?

Shaye leaped around him and closed in on her mom. “Let’s go! We have to get out of here.” Before Valerian noticed.

Tamara continued fighting her husband. “If you don’t release me, I’ll stab you while you’re sleeping!”

Lines of strain bracketed the groom’s too-thin lips while concern and fear gleamed in his eyes. “What should I do?” he asked, looking to Shaye.

Urgency beat her with brass knuckles. “Just throw her over your shoulder fireman-style and run. I’ll—”

“Be staying with me,” she heard behind her.

The familiar, husky voice made her shiver. Made her muscles clench, desperate for sublime satisfaction.

He slid a hand around her bare stomach; his fingers were long and thick, tanned and hard against her pale softness. Goose bumps broke out all over her body. His other hand glided across her collarbone to stop beneath her seashell-covered breast. He tugged her backward, locking her against a muscled chest.

She melted into him. No, no. She forced herself to stiffen. He smelled like dark magic. Sultry. Heady. Powerful.

She should protest. At the very least, she should scold him for such daring.