5. The Royal Carriage

Before I could force another breathless word past my swollen lips, Damon scooped his massive arm beneath my knees and lifted me off the muddy ground into his chest. I let out a sharp gasp, my hands reflexively flying up to wrap around his broad, leather-clad neck. The suffocating heat radiating off his muscular frame hit me like a furnace, instantly melting away the deep, bone-chilling cold that had settled into my limbs during my desperate flight through the storm.

"Put me down," I whispered, though the protest held no real strength or conviction. My human legs felt heavy and hollow, completely spent from suppressing my royal wolf for three straight years and running barefoot through the freezing rain. "I can walk on my own."

"You are exhausted, little bird," Damon growled, his deep voice a low, heavy rumble that vibrated directly against my ribs. "And you will never walk in the cold mud again while I am breathing."

He strode with long, effortless power toward the dark treeline, where a massive, black-timbered carriage waited beneath the towering pines. Four enormous black warhorses stamped their heavy hooves in the dark soil, their eyes glowing faint silver in the dark. A driver clad in full black plate armor bowed low without uttering a word, instantly pulling open the heavy wooden door as Damon approached.

Damon stepped up into the interior, carrying me effortlessly into the warm, velvet-lined cabin. The heavy door slammed shut behind us with a solid thud, instantly cutting off the violent howling of the wind and rain. Soft crystal lanterns glowed along the padded walls, casting a dim, golden light over the plush leather seats and deep velvet cushions.

The heat inside the enclosed carriage was thick and suffocating. The very second the lock clicked into place, the suppressed mate bond between us flared to a violent, unbearable temperature. My skin felt like it was on fire everywhere his massive, calloused hands held my body.

Damon did not set me down on the opposite seat to give me space. He lowered his tall frame onto the leather bench and pulled me straight onto his lap, straddling my hips over his thick, muscular thighs. His massive frame trapped me completely against his chest, his silver eyes flashing with a raw, dangerous hunger that sent my heart hammering wildly against my ribs.

"Look at me, Elara," he commanded softly, his rough fingers wrapping around my jawline to tilt my face up to his.

I looked straight into his striking, handsome face, my chest heaving as I struggled to pull air into my lungs. "Why are you here, Damon? The Wolf King does not wander the northern border alone in the middle of the night."

"I spent nine years searching the world for you after your mother died, and three long years watching that bastard treat you like dirt," Damon rasped, his thick thumb sliding over my swollen lower lip, pressing down until my mouth parted slightly under his touch. "I spread rumors across the four continents that I was a cold, heartless monster just to keep rival Alphas from looking toward your territory. I kept my distance because I respected your choice, but I watched every single move Kael made."

My eyes widened in sudden shock as the truth sank in. "You were watching?"

Damon’s jaw clenched so hard a sharp muscle ticked in his cheek. His hand slid slowly from my jaw down the column of my throat, his long, heavy fingers resting gently over my racing pulse point.

"Last winter, three elite assassins were paid by a southern pack to infiltrate the Frostclaw packhouse and murder the Luna," Damon revealed, his voice dropping into a deadly, dark whisper. "Kael’s border guards were fast asleep on duty. They never even knew those killers had crossed the frozen river."

My breath hitched in my throat. "What happened to them?"

"I hunted them down in the snow," Damon snarled, his silver eyes blazing with pure, lethal possessiveness. "I tore their heads off with my bare hands before they could get within ten miles of your bed chamber. Kael thought his territory was safe because of his pathetic guards. He never knew it was my shadow keeping you alive."

A violent tremor ran down my spine, a dizzying mix of shock and overwhelming heat. This dark, terrifying King had been quietly slaughtering threats in the cold night for twelve years just to protect me while I suffered under Kael’s neglect.

Damon leaned down, his face hovering millimeters from mine, his scorching breath washing over my trembling lips. "Now tell me everything, Elara. Every word Kael spoke to you. Every time he made you feel weak. Every time he made you cry."

"He called me wolfless," I whispered, the painful memories spilling out as the intoxicating heat of his presence broke down my last emotional defenses. "He kept me in a cold room. He ignored me for months, paraded other females in front of the pack, and made me serve them wine. Tonight, he gave my mother's signet ring to Serena and forced me to step down in front of the whole council."

A dark, terrifying growl ripped from deep inside Damon’s chest, loud enough to rattle the glass of the carriage lanterns. The air inside the small space turned thick, heavy, and suffocating with his raw, explosive Alpha rage.

"He treated a royal Moonborn queen like a servant," Damon growled, his hand tightening possessively around my waist, pulling me flush against his broad chest. "He made you feel small so he could feel like a man."

He shifted his broad body, pinning me deeper into the plush leather seat beneath him. The hard, thick bulk of his rigid shaft pressed forcefully against my inner thigh through his heavy trousers. My core throbbed violently, a sudden, heavy gush of wetness soaking through my underwear as my body responded to his overwhelming dominance.

Damon felt the subtle twitch of my hips against his leg. A dark, wicked smirk spread across his handsome face as he reached down, his large, warm hand gripping the hem of my soaked silk dress. Slowly, deliberately, he gathered the wet fabric in his fist, sliding it up past my knees and exposing my trembling, pale thighs to the warm air of the carriage.

His rough, calloused fingers brushed against my sensitive skin, tracing a burning path upward toward my dripping core. I gasped out loud, my hands gripping his broad shoulders as a desperate, pathetic moan escaped my throat.

Damon bent his head down, his wet lips brushing against the shell of my ear, his dark voice dripping with filthy, explicit promises.

"Tonight, you learn what it feels like to be worshipped by a real Alpha."