The room was silent except for the crackling fire, casting long shadows across his sleeping form. I watched Landon's bare chest rise and fall with each breath, his crimson hair fanned across the pillows. Somehow, even in sleep, he looked dangerous—like a predator merely resting between hunts.
I bit my lip, drinking in the sight of him. Vulnerable yet powerful. My king. My mate.
What had started as a moment of hesitation had transformed into something else entirely. Standing beside the bed, I felt desire coiling inside me like a serpent ready to strike. The need to touch him, to taste him, to claim him as he so often claimed me.
For once, His Majesty wasn't in control. I was.
His deep, even breathing told me he was still half-asleep. Perfect. The corner of my mouth curled into a smile as I untied the sash of my robe, letting the silky material slip from my shoulders and pool at my feet.
