Kael’s Point Of View
By the time I reached the upper floors, the dungeon’s stink of blood and bile was behind me, but the rage was still coiled in my chest like a living, breathing thing. My knuckles were tense. My jaw tighter.
I wanted a shower. Maybe a bottle of whiskey.
I needed silence.
The hallway to my quarters was empty, quiet, save for the faint creak of distant footsteps somewhere in the lower levels. Good. I needed no one right now. No warriors. No reports. Nothing at all.
The second I opened the door to my room, I smelled the perfume before I saw her. Cheap. Heavy. Overpowering the faint scent of oak and wolf musk that usually marked my space.
Then, there she was. On my bed. Naked.
Her pale limbs spread across the dark sheets like a gift no one ordered. Her golden hair fanned out on the pillows, lips red, glossed, pulled into a smile that I imagine she thought was seductive. One long leg bent at the knee like some goddess out of a desperate painting.
I didn’t move. I didn’t
