He so longed for the throne that was not his. And, as natural as combat is to a man who was thrust into war during preadolescence, he yearned for the power that came with it. The thought of controlling, dominating, and frightening the people who had for so long cast him aside was ambrosial, almost sexual. More often could domination push him to an orgasm than any woman, and he preferred it. Violence was his nectar, and this throne would be his Olympus.
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