Claimed By The Tyrant King

Even though Rosalind pushed at him with both hands, trying to force him away, he remained completely unrelenting.

Parting his lips slightly, Alaric brushed his mouth against her lower lip, lingering there before moving to the upper one, and then he tilted his head and returned to the lower lip again.

Rosalind protested beneath him, but he paid no attention to it as he kept her trapped under his weight. His fingers pressed more firmly against her cheeks until her lips parted, and then he deepened the kiss, forcing it further as though determined to consume every bit of her resistance.

The sound that escaped Rosalind seemed only to please him more because he kissed her with a hunger that felt less like affection and more like possession, as though he wanted to claim every part of her for himself.

When at last he was satisfied, he finally pulled away and looked at her. Her lips were now swollen, and there was the faint sting of where they had been bitten too hard.

A satisfied smirk slowly stretched across his face before he dropped onto the side of the bed and lay there.

Rosalind quickly used the back of her hand to wipe at her lips, thinking he was no longer watching because his gaze had shifted toward the ceiling. "As if that could change the fact that my saliva is now mixed with yours," he said without even looking at her.

Rosalind clenched her fists immediately.

Damn him!

She wanted to scrub herself clean, as though every part of her had been contaminated by him.

"Sit up."

The command came so suddenly that Rosalind found herself obeying before she could even think, gathering herself into a seated position as her heart continued to race.

Then Alaric moved closer again and, to her shock, lowered his head onto her lap.

Her cheeks reddened instantly while he seemed completely unbothered, as though this strange intimacy meant nothing to him.

"I’m not in the mood for more tonight, so I’ll stop there," he said.

The words made Rosalind’s stomach twist.

He lifted his gaze to hers and smiled, his expression almost deceptively gentle. "I’m trying to be good to you, Rosalind," he said softly. "So that you won’t leave me. Stop doing things that make me angry. I don’t want to hurt you."

It was a lie!

Rosalind forced herself not to be deceived by the softness of his voice.

If he truly did not want to hurt her, then he would have stopped long ago. But he continued because he enjoyed having that power.

Because he was a monster.

"Yes, Your Majesty," Rosalind said quietly.

At that, Alaric’s smile widened, though inside, Rosalind was far from accepting anything he had said.

After a moment, Alaric turned his gaze away.

"I was having trouble sleeping, which is why I called for you," he said. "Do you know any song that could make me fall asleep?"

Of course he had trouble sleeping. All the wickedness in his heart must finally be catching up with him.

Rosalind did know a song, one she sometimes hummed to herself at night, but she had no intention of singing for him. "No, Your Majesty," she replied.

Alaric fell silent, and though his eyes narrowed slightly, he said nothing. He suspected she was lying. But after a moment, he dismissed the thought.

"Then stroke my hair until I fall asleep," he said.

Rosalind frowned.

Stroke his hair?

Alaric had already closed his eyes, clearly expecting obedience, but Rosalind remained still. His blue eyes snapped open.

"Rosalind!"

"Yes, Your Majesty," she answered reluctantly.

Once he closed his eyes again, Rosalind slowly lowered her hand to his hair, touching it lightly at first.

Her fingers slipped into the soft strands of his dark hair, and despite herself, she began to stroke it gently, the way one might soothe a restless child.

Slowly, the corners of Alaric’s lips curled upward.

He looked almost peaceful. As though she alone could bring calm to the darkness inside him.

Not long after, Alaric finally drifted to sleep while Rosalind continued to run her fingers through his hair.

And then, slowly, a thought crept into her mind.

She could slide her hand lower.

Carefully.

To his throat.

And squeeze.

The thought made her still for a moment.

It would rid the world of a tyrant like him. It would end everything.

But what good was her small strength against a man like Alaric? She wondered.

Rosalind’s fingers slowly drifted downward through his hair before pausing.

She could at least try something...

He did not deserve this peace at all because for a man as evil as he was, he deserved every bit of the sleeplessness that plagued him. But how could he be so comfortable sleeping in her lap after he had just hurt her?

Wasn’t he even afraid that she might take her revenge while he slept and end his life right there? The way he lay there so peacefully, as though nothing had happened, only made Rosalind feel even more annoyed.

Slowly, Rosalind’s fingers left his hair and slid down to his throat, resting there lightly as she felt the steady pulse beneath her fingertips. Her breath caught in her chest as she stared at him, the thought screaming in her mind that all it would take was one push and it would all be over.