The King's Cursed Bride

Plagued By the Past

Author's Note: So yesterday, I started a new thing on Instagram. Every week, before the Wednesday update, I'll showcase one comment--or a set of comments--on Instagram! This week's comment award goes to WHATTHEHELLISWRONG, ForevermoreLast, and action_syfy for having the longest comment thread on the story (17 total). Hope you guys feel accomplished 😉

AND I passed 700 followers this week 🎉🎉🎉 Whoop, whoop!

And this week's chapter goes to the fabulous ArielMasters. She's been so immensely supportive and involved on my other platforms, aside from Wattpad. She also did a big shoutout for me a while ago, recommending her followers check out my book, which led the the amazing mariaola2000 coming over here to read it. Though Ariel is one of the newer fans of this book, she's easily one of the most encouraging and dedicated 💖

***

She stumbled back against, calves banging against the chair, her breath thick in her throat. "You're in the jailhouse; you can't touch me."

"Wrong—on both accounts. After you left with the princeling, I realized that if you could barter your way out, so could I. But while you used your body to gain such favor—"

Heat roared to her cheeks. "I did no such thing! I agreed to marry him."

Akar snorted. "Precisely my point. As I was saying, I was clever enough to take advantage of a few favors owed to me."

Her stomach twirled itself into knots. Perhaps if she could distract him for long enough, Elon would return. "How?"

"I threatened to reveal a Councilman's liaison with another Councilman's daughter. And, of course, the Councilman was quite cooperative when it came to allowing me access to the embassy, so long as I didn't implicate him, of course. We all have secrets. Most people hide them. I take advantage of them."

Carissa edged around the chair, so its back separated her and Akar. "You don't have secrets of your own?"

He stalked closer towards her, and goose bumps danced across her skin. "I don't believe it's fitting for something owned to demand questions of its owner. Have you forgotten your place so soon?"

"Stop. You can't and won't touch me; I'm the King's." She clenched the chair's back so tightly she was surprised the wood didn't creak beneath the pressure.

That same ugly smile curled his lips. "You said I was in the jailhouse, and I've proven you wrong." His hand shot out, covering hers and pinning it to the top of the chair. "You also said I couldn't touch you." His fingers tightened over hers, his nails digging into her skin. "And once more, I'll prove you wrong."

Carissa straightened. Elon said she was a queen, a warrior, and this man would not cow her. "I'm Elon's, and he won't let you."

The grin spread over his face like fire. The sight of mirth on his face sent another wave of goose bumps slithering across her skin. "Why would he care, Carissa? Why would he miss you? Or care if I have another sip from a near empty goblet? There are other women in this city, Carissa, many of which are purer and prettier, regardless of how clean or healed you may be."

His gaze raked her figure, and she suppressed the urge to try and cover herself. At least she had more than a sheet wrapped around herself.

Akar dragged her towards him, sheathed his dagger, and his other hand reached for her waist.