Page 73 of Their Rejected Queen

Godric’s eyes glitter as if he’s proud of me for spotting who he’d like to replace him. “She refuses the role with King Njord in charge. She’d only take my place if someone else took the throne, which isn’t bound to happen for the next thousand years. I’m the only person standing between King Njord and my pack, and even then, he still pushes us.”

The pain in his amber eyes glimmers bright enough for me to see.

He’s conflicted.

King Njord has taken something from him in the past, and not just his parents. There’s enough hurt to suggest Godric isn’t willing to let anyone he cares about experience what the king is truly capable of, if he can help it.

“Couldn’t I be your concubine, like you’ve already told everyone?” I softly suggest. My body is humming with need that is reaching a breaking point. I don’t know if it’s due to some magical bond or too many near-death experiences—and one real death experience—that’s making me abandon all inhibition, but I want to climb this man like a tree.

Out of everyone, he hasn’t actively put me in danger. He was giving me a chance to escape under the premise that he could outwit Ze’ev. He hadn’t expected that I’d actually trust the psychotic Outcast.

I make a mental note not to do that again.

Then there’s Arwan, who literally did watch me die.

His gaze is still on my lips. “I could kill you,” Godric protests, saying the magic words that proves he’s the only one who truly cares about my life. “My wolf—” he tries to continue, but I stop him.

I’ve taken my life in my hands enough times on this isle to not be afraid to do it again.

Plus, there are worse ways to die.

I grab both sides of Godric’s face and press my lips against his.

He goes still, then a rumbling growl makes my stomach twist.

“Every night I stay in wolf form so that I don’t give in,” he confesses. “I want you, Liliana.”

Tingling rushes through my entire body at his admission. “You do?”

He growls as if frustrated, then utters, “More than you know. I can’t take it anymore.”

His tongue invades my mouth, demanding that I grant him access, as if he is done waiting, done resisting.

I had no idea he felt this way.

I open for him without hesitation, and he rewards me for my submission by flattening his palm against my collarbone, claiming me, and angling my body so he can take the kiss deeper.

I groan into his mouth as he unleashes his rough need onto me. He squeezes my body, and it’s too tight, too strong. I know I’ll have bruises in the morning, but I don’t care.

“More,” I beg. Something burns deep inside of me and makes me feel like I’m going to implode.

And Godric is the only one who can fix it. That knowledge sears into me with unbreakable certainty.

“Why do I feel like I’m dying?” I ask as a haze tingles over me, but I can’t stop. I trace my tongue against his one more time and then begin panting.

“Because you are,” he says with a mixture of pain and unrestrained need that rivals my own. “You have to complete the games. They’re in place for a reason.”

What reason could there possibly be for hunting down women and seeing if they can survive?

And how would that make this any easier?

He cups me against his chest, then carries me through the forest.

His eyes are practically glowing.

When we reach the wall to the encampment, he presses me against it. I hear voices on the other side, and my heart skips a beat.

“Don’t make a sound,” he says with a sly grin.