บททั้งหมดของ The Queen is Man: บทที่ 31 - บทที่ 40

"Drop it, Daniel. Now."Ethan’s voice didn't rise. It didn't need to. It cut through the roar of the fire in the armory like a bone-chilling wind. He stood in the center of the wreckage, ash coating his black leather armor. Smoke curled around his boots. He looked like a god of ruin.Daniel didn't drop the scalpel. He pressed the blade harder against Noah’s neck, the thin steel biting into the skin. A single bead of blood welled up, dark against Noah's throat. "Stay back! I’ll open his throat, Ethan! I swear to the moon, I’ll do it!""You think I didn't know?" Ethan took a step forward. The floorboards beneath him groaned, scorched and brittle. He didn't look at the fire. He looked at Daniel with a flat, predatory focus. "You think I didn't see him hand you those keys? You think I’m that blind?"Noah’s heart slammed against his ribs. The heat from the flames was a physical weight, but Ethan’s words were colder. He knew."You let him do it," Noah wheezed, his voice vibrating against Da

"He’s not your savior, you little idiot."The voice hissed from the shadows of the balcony, cutting through the heavy, suffocating silence of the Silk Wing. Noah froze. He gripped the ice-blue hilt of the dagger under the furs, his knuckles turning a bloodless white."Lucas?"Noah didn't move. He stayed tucked into the cream-colored rug, his back against the foot of the massive bed. His skin still stung from the friction of the earlier encounter. The gold cuff on his wrist felt like a lead weight."Keep your voice down unless you want the King to come back and finish what he started with your brother." Lucas stepped into the sliver of moonlight filtering through the iron-vined bars. He looked worse for wear. A jagged red line ran down his forehead, and his shoulder was wrapped in a rough, stained bandage."You should be dead," Noah rasped. He stood up slowly. The translucent black mesh garment Ethan had forced him into shifted, the gold chains clinking with a metallic, trapped sound.

"The King is sleeping with a demon."Charlotte Reed tossed the blood-stained strip of linen onto the High Priest’s mahogany desk. The fabric landed with a soft thud, the dark, rusty brown of dried iron clashing with the polished wood. She stood tall, her jaw locked, her eyes burning with a cold, triumphant light."That's a bold claim, Charlotte," the High Priest murmured. He didn't pick up the cloth. He didn't even lean in. He just stared at it, his fingers laced together over his gold-embroidered robes. "The King’s bed is his own. To suggest his Queen is anything but the girl from the North—""Look at it!" Charlotte stepped forward, her hand slamming onto the desk. The wood groaned. "That isn't a bandage for a wound. It’s a binder. My laundry girls found it in the Silk Wing’s wash. It was tucked inside a torn shift. A shift only the Queen wears.""A binder?" The Priest’s brow furrowed. He finally reached out, picking up the cloth with the tips of his fingers. He turned it over. His e

Don't move or I'll rip your throat out."Ethan’s voice was a wet, jagged growl. He wasn't the King right now. He was something else. His eyes had turned a thick, opaque silver, the pupils blown wide until the irises were just thin, vibrating rings. He was hunched over the edge of the massive bed, his knuckles digging into the furs, his muscles corded and twitching beneath skin that radiated a feverish, unnatural heat."Ethan, you're shaking." Noah didn't back away. He couldn't. The room was thick with it—the heavy, musk-sharp scent of the wolf-spirit, an overwhelming flood of pheromones that made the air feel like liquid lead. It hit Noah in the back of the throat, making his mouth go dry and his pulse spike."Stay. Right. There." Ethan’s head snapped up. A low, vibrating snarl rumbled in his chest, a sound that wasn't human. He lunged.Noah’s back hit the stone wall. Ethan didn't grab him with his hands; he slammed his entire body weight against Noah, pinning him. His face buried in

"Strip. Now."Noah’s fingers fumbled with the silk ties of the heavy Northern gown. The fabric was a lie he’d worn for months, a weight that had nearly drowned him. Behind him, the oak doors of the Silk Wing groaned under the rhythmic thud-thud-thud of a battering ram. Outside, the roar of the "Purists" swallowed the wind. Lucas Reed was leading them, screaming about demons and blood."I can't—the knots are too tight." Noah’s voice shook. He jerked at a gold lace, and it snapped."Use the knife." Ethan shoved a bone-handled dagger into Noah’s hand. He didn't look at the doors. He didn't look at the fire catching on the velvet drapes. He looked at Noah. "Tear it off. All of it."Noah sliced through the emerald silk. The gown slumped to the floor, a dead skin. He stood there in the freezing air of the bedchamber, shivering in nothing but a thin cotton shift. The silver collar around his neck felt heavier now. Constant. Cold."Put these on." Ethan kicked a bundle of dark leather and iron