To Kill a Kyng

Never Trust the Ocean

Don't worry if people think you're crazy. You are crazy. You have that kind of intoxicating insanity that lets other people dream outside of the lines and become who they're destined to be. What would an ocean be without a monster lurking in the dark? It would be like sleep without dreams.

There's nothing wrong with enjoying looking at the surface of the ocean itself, except that when you finally see what goes on underwater, you realize that you've been missing the whole point of the ocean. Staying on the surface all the time is like going to the circus and staring at the outside of the tent.

Kaior stared up into the darkness of the spacious walk-in closet. She had been in there for about an hour now. Her hands were still tied, but the ropes were loose enough for her to get free easily. She would've untied herself, if she really wanted to.

At last, the dual doors opened and light from the outside temporarily blinded her. Shielding her face away from the door and peeking with her eyes, she saw Kyng towering over her. He flipped on the switch in the closet, causing her brows to furrow. He trudged over to the corner, grabbed a chair, and plopped down in it, staring her down.

"You have a staring problem." She tilted her head up at him.

"Who told you to speak?" Kyng squinted at her, leaning on his knees. If I'm supposed to be intimidated, it's not working. This is sexy.

"Well excuse me for trying to make small talk! If you want to continue this staring contest all day we can, but you might have to get me some eye drops and tissue to—"

Kyng slammed his hand on the wall. "Bitch, shut up!" Huffing, she hung her head down, really needing a peppermint at this moment. Kaior hated nothing more than to be called anything other than her name.

Kyng stood up out of his seat and walked over to her, kneeling down to her level. He grabbed her by the face roughly and picked it up to get a better look at her. She grunted as he jerked her head to the side hard enough to give her whiplash. He pulled her ear back, examining the star tattoo behind it with the number 8 under it in roman numerals.

"You're too pretty to be sittin' here tied up," He pushed a strand of her curly hair out of her face. "Who made the mistake of sending you here?"

Kaior remained silent. "Answer me!"

"You told me to shut up," Kyng grumbled, wanting nothing more than to strangle her to death. "Who says anybody sent me?" Her head tilted to the side.

"Somebody had to send you. There's no way a woman had the nerve to enter a king's castle."

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Her eyebrow raised.

"It speaks for itself."

"You believe that since a woman is 'pretty' she can't be independent?" He's sounding just like my brother and father.

"From what I've seen, yes." He admitted shamelessly.

Her chuckle was sinister as she shook her head in disappointment. "Tsk, be careful with a mindset like that. One day a woman can come along and turn your entire life upside down. But by the time that you change your mind, it'll be too late."

"I highly doubt that. I don't let women anywhere in my life unless I'm paying them."

"Misogyny at its finest. Doubt is an illness that comes from knowledge and leads to madness."

His jaw clenched and he pulled his revolver from his waist, placing the cold metal right on her forehead. "Give me a reason why I shouldn't blow your brains out right now."