CHAPTER 81

LAYLA

"I can feed myself!" I snapped, glaring at him as he held the spoon up to my lips.

His Majesty, in all his infuriating arrogance, only grinned wider, his red eyes glinting with amusement. "Why not humor me, darling?" His tone was light, teasing, yet carried that infuriating undertone of command he always seemed to wield so effortlessly.

I huffed and turned my head away, folding my arms over my chest. "Please don't treat me like a pup."

That earned a deep chuckle from him, rich and warm, a sound that sent an uninvited shiver down my spine. I hated how it made me feel, how it ignited this strange sensation in the pit of my stomach, almost like... butterflies? No. Absolutely not.

"You're pouting," he teased, and when I shot him a glare, he had the audacity to laugh again.

"Stop laughing at me!" I demanded, though my voice didn't carry nearly as much authority as I hoped it would.