The Runaways: Book 1 of the The White Goddess Series

23. Boyfriend Material

There were a handful of humans enjoying the warm evening breeze and the sparkling view of the city from the balcony. A glare from King sent them scurrying back inside the suite, leaving him alone. Good.

King slipped the joint out of his cigarette pack and lit it up. He'd started smoking heavily in the past few months, something to do with his hands instead of snapping necks. King had no patience for anyone anymore, and he hadn't had much to begin with.

Bracing his forearms on the heavy iron rail, King stared out at the outline of the mountains under the star-spangled sky. He should be feeling triumphant right now. The future King Jade, Colorado Springs would be the fourth hotel-slash-casino in their portfolio, but the first King and Huang were building from scratch. 

Their newest endeavour would make Lucifer King a fortune, money he would funnel into the Rogue King's militias along the west coast and building his network to the east. Bringing King closer to the goals he'd been single-mindedly pursuing in the sixty years since he'd abandoned the constraints of his birthright.

But all King could think about was her. Serafina. Where was she right now? What was she doing? Was she happy? Sad? Afraid? Was she safe? 

As furious as King was with her Guardian, he knew Jones would lay his life down to protect her. But he was only one shifter, and a young, unworldly one at that. King couldn't help but be concerned.

King could still see Serafina in his mind's eye, waving at him from her bedroom window, the golden crown he'd made for her sparkling in the sunlight. The crown he still carried with him, tucked in his bags wherever they travelled, just in case. The crown King would put back on her head where it belonged as soon as he found her. 

And he would find her. 

King inhaled deeply, filling his lungs with smoke and watching it float away as he exhaled. Serafina's beautiful face had lit up when she saw him that day and her voice when she called his name had been full of joy. Full of love. 

Who had ever felt anything like that for him? Even before King made his name as someone to be feared and obeyed. His sad, unstable mother? His childhood playmates in Ainu? His battle-tested comrades in the High Council Guard?

Certainly King's father had never felt anything so tender for his weak, late-blooming son. The uncle that raised King had shown him respect, with occasional signs of something bordering on affection. 

Nothing like the emotion in Serafina's eyes as she waited in front of the Church, dancing with excitement for King to climb out of the SUV when he arrived for a visit. Or the happiness and trust emanating from her tiny, fragile form as she threw her arms around him or curled up in his lap. 

King knew Serafina loved him. He knew it. He knew her...her hopes, her dreams. So how could she choose a life on the run with Ian Jones, over living at Garnet Range with him? The place she was born and destined to live out her days by his side? Something King never got a chance to explain to her.

The burning paper crackled as King took a deep drag from the joint. He hated to admit even privately how shocked, then hurt he'd been in the sunroom that day before the anger took over.

Those emotions, that weakness...they were the reason they'd gotten away. They'd slowed King down. Made him second-guess himself, something he had never done before. Over the years, weeks and sometimes months would go by between his visits but now that Serafina was out of his reach, King missed her with an ache that he couldn't massage or torture or fuck away.

It was just there now, all the time. Impossible to ignore, screwing with King's concentration and eroding his pleasure in the things he'd once enjoyed. It was annoying, frankly. And Boone wasn't too happy about it either. He'd called it, no question about that, even if King had no intention of acknowledging it to his face.