Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

A moment ago, Beliath had told the little queen he was at her service.

He had meant it.

However, he knew from experience that the best way to serve a female was not by simpering and groveling like a slave. Some women required a firmer hand, and Beliath knew how to provide it.

He tightened his grip on the queen's long, black hair, and he tugged ever so slightly. Her eyes widened in response, and her lips gasped open, offering a view of the wet, pink interior of her mouth. Beliath's cock throbbed at the sight, and it was all he could do to keep himself from shoving the little queen to her knees in front of him.

Right now, however, he needed her mouth for something else.

Information.

"Tell me," he repeated.

The queen's bottom lip trembled. Her cheeks flushed, and her eyes filled.

"There is a man," she said at last. "His name is Jaeger. He is the king's alchemist and advisor. My husband put him in charge of Drachenval while he's away at war."

"Has there been some trouble with this man Jaeger? Does he suspect that you've been coming to visit me?"

"No," the queen said. "He doesn't know anything about you… or us . But he suspects I am not actually pregnant, and today he…" Her blush deepened. "He offered to lay with me and give me a child."

For a moment, Beliath was blinded by his rage. Everything around him—the night and the trees, the stones and the flickering candles—all of it disappeared behind a red haze of fury. It was only when the queen let out a startled cry that he returned to his senses.

"Beliath! You are hurting me!"

He realized he was pulling her hair a little harder than before. Meanwhile his other hand, the one clutching the thick mound of her rump, was digging its claws into her soft flesh. Not enough to break the skin, but still enough to hurt.

He immediately relaxed his grip, and the queen let out a tiny sigh of relief. Beliath retracted his claws and combed his fingers safely through her hair.

"Forgive me," he said.

He had not meant to lose his temper like that, and it was not Malissa who had incited his rage. It was this puny little human named Jaeger. The mortal who had tried to take what was his .

Beliath had never experienced this precise flavor of anger before. It took him a few moments to identify it.

Jealousy .

Beliath had known many women in his day. More than he could even remember. Some of them had been priestesses, others virgins given to him as offerings. Beliath had enjoyed all of them thoroughly, but he had never viewed them as anything other than playthings to be discarded when he was finished.

But this little queen of his was different. He had sensed it last night when he had kissed her. Now he knew for sure. There was something special about this one. Something that made him feel possessive of her, protective even.

Was it because she would soon be carrying his offspring inside her womb? Perhaps, but Beliath had a feeling there was more to it than that. Something he did not yet fully understand.

One thing, however, was certain…

"As soon as I am free," Beliath said. "I will find this man Jaeger, and I will kill him."

"No!" the queen gasped.

"Slowly," he said. "Very slowly."

"No," the queen repeated, and she pressed her little hands against his chest. "Please, you mustn't do that."

He felt his jealousy returning, and he placed a threatening hand around the queen's throat.

"Why not? Do you have feelings for this man Jaeger?"

"Hardly," the little queen said, and Beliath could tell she was being sincere. "The only thing I feel towards him is repulsion. Still, there's no need to kill him for it. Besides, once he realizes I'm truly pregnant, I'm certain he will leave me alone. He wouldn't dare to harm the mother of the king's heir. That's why you must…"

She let her words trail off, so Beliath finished the thought for her.

"That's why I must breed you."

The queen's face went from pink to red. She darted her eyes away, toward the framed painting leaning against one of the five pillars of the darkstone ring. The candle in front of the portrait cast a flickering golden light over the likeness of the king.

"Will that image suffice for you to work your magic?" the queen asked.

"Aye," Beliath answered. "Now that I know what the man looks like, I can give you a child to match."

"Good."

The queen slipped out of Beliath's grasp, and strode toward the portrait. She grabbed the sides of the frame and started to turn the painting around, but Beliath stopped her with a snarl.

"Leave it," he said.

"But—"

"I said leave it ." Then, in a softer voice he added: "I want him to watch."