Iris.
It occurred to me that morning was nearly done, but there was nothing spurring me to move from where I was.
I was warm. My body felt deliciously weighted. And everything around me smelled good. Like safety.
The only discomfort I felt was a stickiness between my thighs.
At which point, everything swam into mortifying focus.
I was in the King’s room. In the King’s bed. In my own soiled garments.
Soiled, with the help of– the King.
Reflexively, my hand snapped to the side of my neck where King Zavan’s teeth had been.
Oh, Goddess, why?
Right then, a thud at the door startled me. I hurriedly gathered the sheets to my chin, bracing myself.
“May I?” King Zavan’s voice inquired from the other side after a beat.
“I-It’s your room,” I replied, win
