Amelia’s pov
I woke up to an empty bed, the sheets tangled around my legs like a memory refusing to let go.
I used my eyes to scan the room,nothing. The King was gone.
Just like that.
No note. No goodbye. No trace, except for the ache between my legs and the ghost of his lips still burning on my skin.
I checked the time. Almost dinner.
“s**t,” I hissed under my breath. “I need to get out of here before anyone starts looking for me.”
I scrambled out of bed and scooped my clothes off the floor in a panic, clutching them like stolen goods. I tiptoed into the bathroom, locked the door, and flicked on the light.
Then I froze.
Facing the mirror, I stared at the evidence.
Hickeys.
All over my neck.
A constellation of the King’s possessive kisses—vivid, angry love bites that screamed s
