Throne of Power (Throne Duet #1) by Rina Kent



He keeps me caged between him and the wall. “Not before you tell me why you left the bed that way and hid in the bathroom.”

The reminder of what happened slams back into me all at once: the power, the abandon, the searing pleasure and the unbearable pain.

“Why do you want to know? You already got what you wanted.”

“We got what we wanted. Don’t try to pretend you didn’t like what happened for even one second.”

“I told you to put a condom on. I told you not to come inside me.”

He narrows his eyes. “Is this what all the fuss is about? A condom?”

“The fuss is about getting pregnant. I’m not on birth control.” My voice drops at the end and I look away from him.

Kyle uses his hold on my hair to bring back my attention to his sinfully beautiful face, his expressionless face. “And you hate that so much?”

“Of course I do! Who in their right mind would bring a child into this world? And with a father no one knows anything about. What if I wake up one day and you’re not there, huh?” I stop before I blurt out everything inside me. That I barely survived alone the other time. That I can’t do it again, especially if an innocent soul is involved.

“Is that how low you think of me?” His voice isn’t angry, more like astounded, and that hits me even harder.

“What should I think? I know nothing about you. Nothing. All Dedushka said about you was that you’re a reputable killer and that’s it. Who are you, Kyle? Who are your parents? Where are you really from? What’s your real last name? Is Kyle even your real name, or is it another ‘fuck you’ I have to live with once you’re gone?”

“You have an awful lot of questions for someone who, according to your own words, doesn’t give a fuck about me.”

I purse my lips shut to not divulge all the chaos that’s been building for years. If I do, he’ll know how much he hurt me, and I will never give him that type of power over me again.

“Just know this, Kyle: I would never trust you. Not now, not in the future.”

He continues watching me with unnerving silence but says nothing. He doesn’t even attempt to answer any of my questions or get closer. He’s happy with being miles apart from me while the closest moment we’ve ever had was when his body was sinking into mine.

I try not to let that piece of information get to me, but it slices me open from the inside like a thousand cuts. I’m bleeding, but he doesn’t see it. I’m choking, but he’d never allow me air.

“Let me go.” My voice is numb, monotone. “I need to shower and buy the morning-after pill.”

Surprisingly, he does release me. I wait for him to say something, anything, but he turns around and leaves. He doesn’t close the door, but the emptiness he leaves behind echoes in the silent bathroom.

I take a scalding shower, rubbing his dried cum from between my thighs and holding in the tears barging into my eyes.

You’re not going to cry because of that man, Rai. Not again.

I close my eyes, letting the stream cover me whole as I think about Dedushka, Dad, and Mom, the people I lost and can never have again. Even Reina feels too far sometimes. Actually, it’s most of the time.

I seem to be an expert at that—losing people I consider family. Sergei will leave, too. Then, it’ll just be me and Ana. All alone.

Well, I am married, but does it even matter if Kyle remains a closed vault? Does it matter when, at every turn, I can’t shake off the feeling that he’ll leave?

Sighing, I step out of the shower and wrap myself in a towel.

I don’t find Kyle in the room. He’s inside the closet, standing in front of his small section, wearing only boxers.

My feet falter at the entrance, contemplating whether or not I should go in there.

“I don’t bite,” he says without meeting my gaze.

“I do.” I approach so we’re standing in a parallel line.

“Good to know, so if you’re pregnant, you’ll be able to protect our child.”

“I’m not pregnant.” I pull out a set of simple matching underwear.

“You don’t know that.” He faces me as he shoves his feet into black pants.

I slide the panties up my legs under the towel. “I won’t allow it to happen.”

“You know the morning-after pill actually slaughters the child if he’s already formed, right?”

“If you want to make someone feel guilty, maybe you should start with yourself, considering you intend on leaving.”

“I didn’t say that. Your trust issues did.”

“Trust issues?” I throw the towel away and snap my bra into place. “Do you think they came to be without a reason? Like, one day I was just sitting there and they fell on me from the sky?”

“Point is, you have them.” He slides into a shirt and takes his time buttoning it. “Don’t pass them on to our baby.”

“There’s no baby.”

He lifts a shoulder. “As far as you know.”

“It’s a fact.”

“You won’t know it for a fact until at least a few weeks from now when our baby is growing beautifully in your womb.”

“And then what? You’ll just be a doting father who will attend delivery classes with me and give me foot massages?” I mock.