The throne room emptied slowly, like water draining around a stone. Nobles retreated in stiff-backed clusters, whispering behind their jeweled hands, throwing sharp, nervous glances toward the shifter standing bare and unbound at their king’s side.Corvin didn’t spare them a look.His hand remained hooked loosely in the leather collar at Elowen’s throat, a quiet, unyielding claim. When the last courtier finally fled and the hall doors boomed shut, the silence that followed was vast and taut, humming with something Elowen had felt from the moment he saw the king.He felt it as interest, danger, and possibility tangled together.Corvin let go of the collar only to step in front of him, hands clasped behind his back, posture deceptively relaxed.“Walk,” he said.His voice was not loud nor harsh. It was simply a command.Elowen raised an eyebrow. “Does your palace bite if I step wrong?”Corvin’s eyes, pale, clear, and ice-sharp, slid down and then up his bare body again. A slow, precise i
Last Updated : 2025-11-21 Read more