All Chapters of How to Make a King (Even If You’re Really Not Into It): Chapter 1 - Chapter 7

EMBER Ember’s breath came in sharp, uneven bursts as heat flooded through her skin, making the tangled sheets around her feel suffocatingly tight against her flushed body. The loft lay shrouded in darkness, save for the neon glow that bled through the rain-streaked windows, casting erratic shadows across the walls. Outside, the city thrummed with its restless insomnia, the buzz of distant signs, the hiss of traffic slicing through wet streets, and faint music leaking from some apartment three floors below, yet none of it pierced the intimate bubble enveloping her. In that moment, all that existed was him: Ghost, his body hovering over hers like a broad, solid wall of quiet strength, pressing her into the mattress not as a cage but as an anchor, grounding her amidst the storm raging within.He fit against her too easily, as if the world had conspired to narrow itself down to this precise instant, leaving no room for anything else, no need for them to be anywhere but here. She was alre

EMBEREmber felt him behind her before she heard him move, that steady, too-controlled presence that somehow made the room feel smaller even though he wasn’t doing anything except existing, which, frankly, was its own kind of inconvenience. She wrapped the blanket tighter around herself as though she could barricade her skin against the storm outside and the other storm beginning under it.Great. Perfect.As if thunder wasn’t bad enough, now her body had decided to go off-schedule like a treacherous traitor. She sank onto the couch in a stubborn little drop of weight that said this is where I live now and you can’t make me do anything. The scotch helped, but only so much. Anxiety crackled under her ribs while heat hummed under her skin in little pulses she pretended not to notice. Ghost lingered at the edge of the room, giving her space the way only someone who paid far too much attention knew how to. He didn’t come closer, didn’t crowd her and didn’t ask how she was doing.She hated

EMBERThunder rolled again outside, distant but heavy, vibrating through the bones of the building. Without light, every sound sharpened: rain battering the windows, wind screaming along the exterior walls, the faint settling groan of stressed beams overhead. And then there was her body, too warm,too awake. The scotch still burned low in her veins, but it wasn’t enough anymore, not with adrenaline spiking, not with fear crawling under her skin, not with Ghost pressed close enough that every point of contact felt magnified. Her skin prickled where he touched her.Not unpleasant.Not at all.Just… intense.The air smelled different now, dust and plaster and something sweet-sharp curling underneath it all. Something that made her stomach tighten and her thighs instinctively draw closer together.Oh. No.Her pulse kicked hard. This wasn’t normal.Her heat wasn’t just circling anymore. It was closing in, fast and insistent, shoved forward by stress and storm and the sheer wrongness of bein

GHOSTThe storm outside had turned vicious, wind slamming against the building hard enough to rattle the windows while thunder rolled in deep, layered waves beneath the floorboards. Rain battered the glass in relentless bursts that drowned out the quieter sounds of the apartment. Ember stood in the doorway like someone deciding whether to fight the storm or surrender to it, her body betraying her with every passing minute. Her breathing had grown uneven, and she kept touching her arms in small, restless movements that weren’t meant for him but that Ghost noticed anyway, cataloging each one.Her scent shifted again.Stronger, warmer, the kind of warmth that curled low in his spine and demanded he look away to preserve what little control he had left.He didn’t look away.But he didn’t step closer either.A bolt of lightning flashed across the windows, followed by a thunderclap sharp enough to rattle a picture frame on the far wall. Ember flinched, barely, but enough that Ghost saw her