The Alpha King Marked Me. I Still Haven't Told Him I'm A Girl novel Chapter 152

Chapter 152: Extra Chapters (Valka & Lucien) III

Valka

Toes wobbling on the ladder, I reach for the top section of the shelf to take the book of bawdy tales. My fingertips stop just shy of the wood. Groaning, I reach even higher, ignoring the ladder’s squeal. Just as my hands finally reach the book’s spine, the ladder tips sideways and I fall with a yelp.

But I land against something solid. Warm. Unyielding. Breathing.

Strong arms lock around my waist, one bracing my back, the other secure around my thighs as he steadies me effortlessly. My breath snags as my eyes lift.

Violet. Bright. Heavy with mischief. And far too close. "How quaint," Lucien murmurs softly.

My pulse trips all over itself. I’m still suspended against him, his fingers splayed hot along my skin like they were meant to be there. 𝑓𝑟ℯ𝘦𝓌𝘦𝘣𝑛𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓁.𝑐ℴ𝓂

He isn’t letting go. And I--I’m not exactly trying to move.

He scans my face for what stretches longer than mere seconds, taking in the rough braid tumbling down my left shoulder, the low neckline of the deep green dress and the cinched corset that pushes up the swell of my breasts. Then his attention flickers to my mouth for another brief second and his chest seems to still.

The look in his eyes is enough to steal all the air from the room. Heat curls low in my belly.

I clear my throat, but it comes out breathless. "Put me down."

"Should I?" His grip tightens just slightly. "You fall quite interestingly. Straight into me, as if you knew I’d be here. Though, I suppose it might have been rewarding to watch you break your frail neck."

I shove the book between us and whack him in the head with it. "Put. Me. Down."

He laughs softly, deeply and finally sets me down, though he does it so slowly my knees brush his as I slide to the floor. His hands linger a fraction too long at my waist before he steps back.

But his gaze doesn’t move.

"Next time," he says, eyes trailing over me, before jerking back up abruptly. But I caught him nonetheless. He was trying not to stare at my chest. Strange that. Every time I’ve been around him wholly naked, he barely looks below my face. But when I am dressed, he stares harder at everything. Suddenly, he sounds irritated. "Just ask for the book."

"Like you were around to ask," I mutter. "Where have you been?"

He turns his back to me, walking over to his desk and the piles after piles of books and abstract drawings and scrolls decorating the surface in neat arrangements. "Keeping tabs on my comings and goings now, are we? Careful. You might actually sound like you care."

I hear it for the insult it is. "Who’s to say I don’t?"

He settles into the chair at the head of the table and at the lack of another, refusing to returning to the couch by the shelf, I climb onto the table easily of the table and sit with my legs entwined.

Lucien pulls a sword out of gods know where and pokes my ass with the sharp point. "Get off my desk, Lyra. Better yet, out of my study. I have matters to attend, and you are a distraction."

Ah. He is no longer furious. This is the usual grumbling, the variety he adopted after years of tolerating my antics. I grin. I have learned I like irritating him. Very much.

"--your subjects are greatly distressed by your refusal to wed. Oh, look! They even provided you a lovely list. ’The most beautiful,’ ’the untouched,’ ’the most fertile’--oh saints above--’women with robust childbearing hips and bosoms ample enough to nurse a kingdom.’ Your royal duties are truly arduous. How ever shall you bear the burden of so many eager women throwing themselves at your mighty feet? Poor you." I lean in. "Do you think if they knew you were in the business of abducting women and skinning them alive, they would still offer you their daughters?"

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