The King's Possession

Reyna’s POV

I woke up feeling like I had been hit by a truck. Every inch of my body ached, my head throbbed, and my throat felt tight—like I had been screaming. My fingers twitched against something soft. Too soft.

I wasn’t in my room.

My eyes snapped open, and I sat up so fast that the room spun around me. My heart pounded in my chest as I took in my surroundings. Dark walls, thick velvet curtains, a fireplace with low-burning embers, and a massive bed that swallowed me whole.

This wasn’t my room.

This wasn’t even the one Draven had kept me in before.

I was somewhere else.

And worst of all… I wasn’t alone.

The air felt different. Heavy. Like I could actually feel someone watching me. My stomach twisted as I slowly turned my head—

And there he was.

Draven.

He stood near the fireplace, his arms crossed over his broad chest, his golden eyes locked onto me. Unblinking. Unreadable.

I swallowed hard, suddenly aware of how much smaller I was compared to him. The flickering fire cast shadows across his sharp features, making him look even more intimidating. His jaw was clenched, his dark hair slightly messy like he had run his fingers through it too many times.

I should have been scared.

I should have felt something other than… whatever this was.

My whole body reacted to him in a way that didn’t make sense. My skin felt too hot, my pulse too fast, and the room seemed too small with him in it.

"You're awake," he said, his deep voice sending shivers down my spine.

No emotion. No warmth. Just cold, matter-of-fact words.

I gritted my teeth and forced myself to sit up straighter. "Where am I?" My voice was hoarse, weak. I hated it.

Draven didn’t answer right away. His gaze flickered over me—like he was checking something. Then he exhaled through his nose and said, "My chambers."

His. Chambers.

I felt like I had just been dropped into ice water.

I tried to move, but the second I swung my legs off the bed, my knees buckled.

He was there before I even hit the ground.

His hands—strong, warm, firm—grabbed my arms and held me upright. A gasp escaped my lips, my heart hammering so hard I swore he could hear it.

His touch was too much. Too real.

Up close, he smelled like cedar and something darker. Something that made my stomach twist in a way I didn’t understand.

I shoved at his chest—rock solid, because of course it was. "Let me go."

His grip loosened, but he didn’t step back. "You shouldn’t have run," he said, his voice sharper now. Angry.

I sucked in a breath, my mind racing. I had run. I had thought I was free. I had made it outside, into the night—

Then they had found me.

A shudder ran down my spine. Those things. Their red eyes. Their snarling teeth. The way they had laughed as they closed in on me.

I looked up at him. "What were they?" My voice came out small.

Draven’s jaw tightened. "Vampires."

I froze.

No. That was—no. That wasn’t real. That wasn’t possible.

"You’re lying," I whispered.

His eyes darkened, something dangerous flickering in them. "You saw them yourself," he said quietly.

I shook my head, even though I had. Even though the memory of them—of the way he killed them without hesitation—was burned into my skull.

The image of him standing over their lifeless bodies, his golden eyes glowing in the darkness, his expression unreadable as he turned to me.

I had been so scared.

But not of them.

Of him.

"You—you killed them," I stammered.

His fingers twitched at his sides, like he was holding himself back. "They would have killed you," he said, voice low.

I didn’t know what to say to that.

Because it was true.

I had seen it in their eyes. They weren’t going to stop.

And Draven had stopped them.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. "So what now?" I asked, forcing my voice to stay steady. "Am I just your prisoner?"

Something flashed in his gaze—something quick, something raw—but it was gone before I could name it.

"You’re alive," he said. "That should be enough."

It wasn’t.

I took a shaky breath, my fists clenching. I had to get out of here. I didn’t care if there were monsters outside—I couldn't stay trapped in this castle forever.

I looked at him, forcing my voice to be steady. "I want to go home."

Draven's expression didn’t change. "No."

The word slammed into me like a punch.

I sucked in a sharp breath, my nails digging into my palms. "You can't just keep me here."

His jaw clenched. "I can."

I hated him.

I hated the way he looked at me like I was his. Like I belonged to him.

But the worst part?

Some tiny, twisted part of me—some part I didn’t understand—was drawn to him anyway.

I hated that most of all.

But it didn’t matter.

Because no matter what, I was getting out of here.

Even if it killed me.

A slow smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, but there was no amusement in it—only something dark, something dangerous. Something that made my

stomach flip in a way I refused to name. He leaned in just enough for me to feel the heat of his body, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "Run again, little one,"

he murmured, his breath ghosting over my skin. "See what happens."

His fingers brushed my wrist—light, teasing, but firm enough that I knew it was a warning. A test. My pulse betrayed me, hammering beneath his touch, and his

smirk deepened like he could feel it. Like he enjoyed it. He tilted his head, studying me the way a predator studies prey before the chase. “You can fight me,” he

murmured, his voice silk over steel. “You can hate me.” His grip tightened, just for a second. Just enough to make my breath hitch. “But you’ll never escape me.”