Page 80 of Hidden Kingdoms

I could hear the sound of him sliding down the wall, see the streak of red that had followed. I pushed at the giant in front of me, attempting to peer around him, but he held me tightly in place.

“No, Little One, don’t look at him. Look at me.” And I did.

My head craned back to meet Marcellus’ eyes and see the anger that was etched into every part of his face. Wind whistledthrough the corridor, bouncing off the stone walls in a harsh rhythm.

“I’m ok,” I said, my voice scratchy. Was I? I pulled away slightly so we weren’t completely pressed together. I didn’t like that, I wanted to be pressed against him.

“You’re not. You’re really fucking not.” Marcellus’ magik was still rippling around us, and I shivered at the featherlight touch of a breeze on my exposed skin where the guard had ripped open my dress. A menacing growl rumbled in his chest as his eyes fell upon my ruined clothes.

Swallowing hard, I tried to step away, to remove myself from the hands that were gripping me so tight I was sure I would have bruises. He didn’t let me. He held me there, his attention never wavering.

I was glad, I wasn’t sure I could stand by myself yet.

“I—” I started, but another growl ripped through his chest that had my pulse quickening.

What was I going to say anyway? I’m sorry? I couldn’t find it in me to do that.

Because I wasn’t.

It wouldn’t be the greatest thing to have happened if I had killed him, but I wasn’t sorry about defending myself.

I kept quiet, unsure on what to do or how this situation was going to play out. I knew I should be scared, I’d possibly just murdered someone and was being held by an extremely angry, extremely large being with magikal powers—in a palace where I had no clue where I was.

But I wasn’t scared, not with him.

And that was fucking stupid.

I should be trying to run, fighting to get away, but not a single part of me wanted to.

I could feel him fighting to control the anger that was ruling him, though he wasn’t quite winning as the power whippingaround us was evidence to. But I didn’t want to run from his anger or match it with my own. I wanted to calm him—to feel his magik running over my skin as I tempered his storm.

The wind swirled around us, and his jaw clenched as he attempted to rein it in until a strangled gurgle from behind us jolted me from the moment.

My hand slipped from him as my chest tightened and silence rang through the corridor, the magik he had been commanding rushing back to him in force. Marcellus’ scowl deepened at the sound that had reminded us both why we were here. Almost reluctantly, he released me with one hand and began to dig in his pocket for something.

The guard was still alive.

For now.

That noise didn’t sound too healthy, not that I could find it in me to be particularly worried about his outcome. I was equally pleased and disappointed by that fact.

Did I really wish he was dead?Yes, I did.

Marcellus began speaking, and when I saw something pressed against his ear, I realised it wasn’t to me.

He has a fucking phone!

It was the first one I had seen since being here, and I filed that fact away for later; I had bigger things to deal with first.

Like potentially being a murderer. Would I get off on self-defence?

Fuck, I didn’t think this through.

He finished the call in seconds, cutting it off with a beep before returning the phone to his pocket. I tried again to look around him to get a glimpse at the guard, but all I managed to see was his black boot twitch against the ground, the edge of a red puddle spreading across the floor, before Marcellus yanked me back in front of him.

“No,” he growled, his voice like two boulders scraping across each other.

“What now?” I asked quietly, terrified of the answer. “Fuck, I’m going to be taken to a real dungeon, one with rats and a straw bed, aren’t I?”

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