Page 144 of The King is Dead
I was having trouble breathing.
I’d forgotten about the coronation. I’d been so focused on the plan and fighting my fears for Yilan, that I hadn’t even thought about it since we’d arrived here.
But now I stood at the head of this table of powerful and influential people and watched, stunned, as Turo raised his voice until it echoed in the rafters above, calling for every man, woman, and child of the Shadekin to lift their eyes and their prayers because their King had been found.
Hughes lifted the horn in his hand and blew it so loudly, my ears rang. Everyone at the table stood—the Nephilim slightly slower, following the examples of the Shadekin—as the two men walked slowly, stiffly, formally towards me, circling the table, each with a hand under the crown, each calling together for the eyes of God to be on this moment, and on this man.
Me.
My breathing was shallow and my heart thudding in my chest as the men walked to Yilan who was smiling, though her lips trembled.
Words were exchanged between them. My pulse throbbed in my ears.
Then Yilan took the crown from the two men, lifted it to her chest, and turned to face me.
The room went silent as our eyes locked and she smiled at me. A bright, beaming smile that lifted my heart and reminded me why I was here.
“Melek Handras, Isee you.As Queen of the Shadekin, appointed at birth by the Creator, it is my duty and honor to find the King for my people. And I name you, Melek Handras, as that man. Do you accept me as mate? Do you recognize our bond? Do you hear the call of God?”
I blinked and sucked in a breath. “I do,” I said as loudly and clearly as I was able, which wasn’t much.
Tears welled in her eyes and her smile stretched broader.
“Among our people there are three traits celebrated in a ruler: Humility, strength, and integrity. I call the people to see your strength. I call the people to know that I have witnessed your integrity. I claim you, Melek Handras. And as Queen, I ask you to humble yourself and kneel to receive your crown.”
The weight of the moment truly hit me then. The air grew thin and I trembled as I lowered myself to the floor, one knee bent, and bowed my head in front of her.
Then my mate was in my mind, showing me an image of myself lifting my head and meeting her eyes—and her smile.
I did as she’d shown me and raised my chin to find her beaming, her eyes shining.
“Melek Handras, General of the Nephilim, Conqueror of nations, carrying the blood of angels in his veins, I name youmate. I name youstrength. I name youKing.”
She stepped forward then and placed the crown on my head, working to balance the heavy crown carefully until she found the right position so that it slid almost to my ears and remained.
The weight of it was a shock, a pressure on my neck that screamed at me.
Leader.
Ruler.
King.
It was so much larger, heavier than simple gold and jewels. It was alifetimeof burden, but also power.
I had always told my men before promotion that with empowerment came responsibility. That authority without intention was selfish ambition. That without a desire to help others, power became a weapon against the very people you sought to increase.
All those words came rushing back to me as Yilan urged me to my feet, took my hand and turned me to face the others as she raised her voice in a cry similar to Turo’s earlier.
“People of the Shade, family of God, I present to you: Melek Handras, my mate, and yourKing.”
Every single person in the room—even the Nephilim—bowed their heads and knelt to acknowledge me.
Including my mate.
It stole my breath when she dropped my hand, gathered her skirts, and knelt on the cold stone, leading the call to the others.
I stood there, speechless, as they all debased themselves in front of me.
