King of Me by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

thinking about the part of me that really did want him. He was a beast that oozed sexual desire. More like a goddamned lion. And you’re lunch.
    So why couldn’t I make the feelings go away?
    Mia. Stop. Just be on your guard and stay focused. We had the Artifact now and were so close to the end of this nightmare. Justin would be brought back. King’s suffering would end.
    And King will be gone from your life forever.
    I drew in a deep breath, the hot water beating down mercilessly on my tense neck. “This is goodbye.” The man who’d lived over three thousand years, who’d witnessed the world age and change, would soon cease to exist. And curse or no curse, this would be the end of something profoundly epic, the end of a king from a lost civilization.
    My mind quickly began to wander. What had the world—his world—been like? What had King been like? I tried to imagine him before Hagne’s evil had sunk its claws into his soul and turned his life into an unimaginable suffering, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t visualize King being…well, a king. Or just a man. With a heart and worries, with disappointments and triumphs, just like anyone else.
    Whoever he once was and whatever he knew would soon be gone. Just like that. All to end his suffering and for “everything to be set right again, for everyone to get back what was taken,” as he’d once said.
    I finished rinsing my body and shut off the water, solemnly comprehending that there would be a sacrifice on his part. A big one. And just like that, I felt my heavy mental armor eroding.
    King was going to die.
    Feeling like the wind had been knocked out of me, I sat on the bed and held my hands over my mouth. Evil tendencies or not, the good in him triumphed. No, it wasn’t love, but it was a start. A start to our end.
     
    ~~~
     
    Forty minutes later on the dot, I made my way down the stairs—shaved, plucked, hair swept up into a twist, and a hint of red for my lips—in a dress that barely left room to sit, let alone breathe. My breasts nearly spilled from the top of the black satin scallops that formed the neckline, and only a centimeter of flesh stood between me and exposing my nipples to the world.
    “You look very nice, Miss Turner,” Stefanos held out his arm, “but you are late.”
    I carefully took the last step in my spiked black heels before latching on to him. “Sorry. But King ordered additional grooming for tonight.”
    Stefanos raised one dark brow but did not say a word.
    He walked me through the spacious living room and a side door, where a gleaming black, very large and fast-looking helicopter awaited on the cement pad. With the sun almost completely set and the sky streaked with hot pink bolts, my ride looked more like an evil black beast waiting to whisk me away to the land of sin.
    I shuddered and my skin erupted with goose bumps.
    “Are you all right?” asked Stefanos, probably wondering why I’d stopped moving.
    I had a very bad feeling all of a sudden. It’s your nerves, Mia. Suck it up.
    I flashed a glance at the sleek helicopter. The pilot wore a tux and stood at attention next to a set of small steps placed beneath the door. He quickly bowed, and it made me laugh. King wanted very badly to make me feel special tonight.
    Maybe that’s why you feel nervous.
    “Miss Turner?” Stefanos said. “It’s time to go.”
    I took a deep breath and made my way to the black beast.
    “Good evening, Miss Turner. Right this way.” The pilot gestured toward the cabin.
    “Thank you.” I flashed a polite smile.
    Once inside, I paused for a moment to take in the extravagant decor. I’d never been inside a helicopter, but this looked more like the executive lounge at some swanky nightclub—black leather seats surrounding a table topped with a bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket. The recessed lights were slightly dimmed, and calming spa-like music piped in from the surround sound system. It actually felt larger and more spacious than