The Tour Stop
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Reign to Ruin
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Google Play -- EXCERPT: As she hovered in the center of the room, next to a solid wooden table, she heard the doors shut and lock behind her, and her heart began to pound. A room like this was not where she expected the king to take her. The swish of his cloak came close behind her and she was rotated in the air until she faced him. Amara had only ever seen the king from a distance. And even then, she tried not to let her eyes wander to him whenever he was nearby. None of the other real servants looked at him directly, and she had always copied their behavior and posture as much as possible to try to blend in. But now that she had the chance to scrutinize him up-close, it was like finally putting a face to the horrible mental depiction she had of the king for so long. Unfortunately, he was extremely good-looking. It was said that most of the Visant family were, but she’d never seen him close enough to realize just how good-looking he was. His chiseled features and refined appearance suited the room they were in, yet didn’t seem to match his threatening appearance in the corridor, but she knew better than to take anything at face value with him. His eyes were a deep brown, as was his hair, and both complemented his tan brown skin, but the other defining thing about him was his size. The man was enormous, even in the spacious room they were in. Perhaps because he was always well-dressed and surround by men of a similar size, he had never seemed quite so big from a distance. While she examined him, the Alpha stared at her with interest, his eyes taking in everything about her. He then stepped back and began his assessment over her body, rotating her with the magic that held her to look over all areas of her, front and back. Anger trickled into Amara as he surveyed her. It was obvious he was sizing her up for his slave service, which infuriated her. If he thought she was going to allow herself to be the first Omega in over a century to be prostituted out to his dukes, lords, and noblemen, he had no idea who he was dealing with. There was plenty she had already seen in this room that could be used to enact the suicide protocol, and as soon as she had the change she would be following procedure. He was welcome to give her corpse to those depraved bastards—they would probably still use it anyway. When he turned her back to face him, he observed for a long moment, an amusement growing among the curiosity in his eyes. “Your anger is intriguing,” he murmured, lifting a hand to her face. A rough finger trailed from the corner of her eye down her cheek. “I have to wonder what you could possibly be angry about since you are the one conducting illegal activities in my castle.” Amara held her eyes on him, even more annoyed she could not escape his touch. It sent a shiver down her, sparking a fear of strange men touching her while she was incapable of escaping. “Admit it,” he said, tilting his head to watch her. “Admit your true purpose here. There is no point in continuing with this denial when I have you so tightly in my grasp.” His hand lowered down her neck to her chest. “I will not allow you any freedoms or any pleasures unless you are completely honest with me.”
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