King of Me by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

dream that had spiraled into a nightmare and turned out not to be so farfetched. King tying me up, tearing off my clothes…The reminder sent a cold spike through me.
    My pulse sped up, and I felt the new Mia—cold, hard, ready for anything—evaporate into thin air.
    “Excuse me. I need a little fresh air.” I stood and headed for the door before I lost my composure. A few simple moments were all I needed to stomp out the freaking-out flames.
    I headed to the balcony overlooking the ocean and braced myself, allowing the cool breeze to fill my nostrils. The full moon was high in the sky, its light bouncing off the rippling waves.
    “What is the meaning of your retreat, woman? Get back inside this instant,” King commanded.
    Great.
    I swiveled on my heel and faced him. His shirtless magnificence was not lost on me one bit, and neither was his long dark hair. His unshaven angular jaw remained just as wickedly handsome as ever, too. Without a doubt, he took my breath away.
    “Did you hear me, woman, or shall I carry you back to the table?”
    Be strong. He won’t respect a coward. “Stop calling me ‘woman.’ My name is Mia.”
    “Get back inside, Mia. ”
    I scoffed. “I’m not hungry and, frankly, the company does not please me.” I referred to Hagne, of course.
    He blinked. “You dare insult my council? You, a lowly Seer who claims to be from another time?”
    I held up my finger. “Lowly? What makes you think that?”
    He looked me over, his eyes momentarily sticking hungrily on my breasts. He caught himself, cleared his throat, then threw back his shoulders a bit. “All Seers are lowly.”
    “Don’t you mean that everyone who isn’t you is lowly?”
    “I am the king.”
    “Well, this lowly Seer is your fiancée.”
    “Hagne is my betrothed.” He frowned at me. “You are mad. I suspected as much, but now you have confirmed it.”
    I’d been impressed so far by how well Hagne’s little tattoo translated everything, but I wondered how it would do with what I had to say next.
    “I’m not crazy. I am the only one capable of preventing an utterly hellish situation—”
    “Prove it. Prove that you are not mad and that I should believe any words coming from your mouth.”
    Crap . I had no cell phone, laptop, or Internet to show him the place I came from, and anything I said would sound like insane tales of an insane person. I had only one thing, and it was a huge risk.
    I showed him my “K” tattoo. “You put this on me. It allows you to feel me, my presence, and” —Hell, I am so going to regret this— “control me.”
    He laughed. “Control you?”
    I nodded. “You place your palm over it, and I’ll do anything you say.”
    He burst out laughing, and it was a deep, hearty laugh. “Well, woman—”
    “Mia,” I corrected.
    “Mia,” he said condescendingly, “if you speak the truth, I can see why such a device might be necessary. You are like a wild animal, frothing at the mouth, seeking to sink its teeth into anything that moves.”
    I growled.
    “You see?” he said smugly.
    “Very funny.”
    “Show me,” he commanded.
    “I can’t.”
    “Why not?” he asked.
    “I’d have to take off the bracelet.”
    “And this signifies…?”
    I shrugged. “I don’t know, actually.”
    “You obviously have some sort of assumption that has sparked your concern.”
    I had to show strength. I had to speak with conviction. Otherwise, he’d blow me off, and this would all be for nothing. “This is a bracelet from your collection of powerful relics. It supposedly prevents your mark from working, and…I believe it’s what brought me here.”
    He leaned in and stared deeply into my eyes. “Exactly why are you here?”
    “Don’t change subjects. You wanted to know why I can’t demonstrate how your tattoo works. That’s the reason.”
    He stepped back and folded his arms over his sculpted bare chest. “Remove the bracelet, or I will hold you down and remove it myself.”
    I had to