Free The Goblin King by Shona Husk Page A

skin and cracked his bones. His body was driven forward while his mind protested, screaming silently as his sword was bloodied with his men’s blood. He’d learned later that the traitor had also died that night, betrayed by the general after revealing the details of the curse. Using the druid’s magic against Roan had been the general’s final act of cruelty. But the legend had spread, and other people had called on the king cursed to be goblin.
    Learning to refuse an order given by his summoner had taken time. Each order disobeyed had returned his sanity and hope, and each time he ignored an order he had rewarded himself with a bead, which he’d crafted and added to his hair. Years of disobedience now rattled with every step so he could never forget he was no one’s slave to command.
    “Don’t feel sorry for me.” He had more than enough to go around. The battle fell back into the ground, no more than a memory dusted off for a special occasion.
    “You had to kill one of your own.”
    Roan stood and spun in one move. “I’ve turned so goblin that I’m not sad about Anfri. I’m running out of time.” He snatched up his sword, sheathed it with a snap. Anfri’s death was a reminder of how close he was to the end. He’d lost a friend to a curse none of them should have worn.
    “That’s not true. I saw—”
    “You don’t know what you saw. If I’d have looked at the gold and not you, I would have lost my soul. Do you understand? Without a soul I become Hoard.” He stepped forward intending to scare her off, send her fleeing back to the dubious safety of the cave, but she stood her ground. “I become like the ones I just killed.”
    “You kept your vow to Anfri. That took courage.” She took his hand in hers offering support. “You don’t have to fight alone.”
    Roan looked down at their hands. She’d touched him, willingly. Her thumb rubbed against his palm. The contact sparked the tightly packed lust. It caught like tinder and spread, filling his chest, warming the gold of his heart. For the first time in centuries he was warm.
    The gold in her eyes softened as if she could see past the curse and understand his pain. He let himself respond. His mouth touched hers in thanks. Chaste. He intended no harm and would take no more than she offered. He would take her back before he faded. She was only on loan from the Fixed Realm.
    Then she kissed him as a woman kisses a man. Her tongue glided over his lip as her body moved against his. The warmth became heat that surged, tearing through his body. His hand lifted to cup her face. He pulled Eliza to him, and her body melded to his. Her lips parted, allowing him the taste of humanity he’d been denied for too long and he couldn’t resist.
    Rain fell from the smoke-filled sky. Fat acid drops burned his skin. The shadows rose at his command, wrapping around them to move them to safety. He had barely thought the location and then they were there. His chamber.
    His fingers raked through her hair, tangling the pale, silken strands. Her dress was fisted in his hand. He needed to feel every inch of her. To remember every curve of her body and the way she rolled her hips as he cupped her butt.
    Her arms wrapped around his neck as he lifted her and took her to his bed. He laid her down and rested over her. His hips cradled by hers. The ache in his chest was dwarfed by the heat surging in his blood. She brushed her lips against his, seeking him out. Where her fingers traced up his arms and over his shoulders, lines of fire followed. He shivered, anticipating the next touch. Her fingers crept under his shirt. Flesh seeking flesh.
    She paused, her hands stilled on his skin, her gaze locked with his. “I shouldn’t be doing this. I’m engaged.”
    “You’re with me. My queen.” He moved to kiss her again, hungry for something he hadn’t felt in too long surging inside him. He wanted Eliza more than he’d ever wanted any piece of gold.
    Her hands didn’t move,