Page 25 of The King is Dead
“He doesn’t deserve your attendance,” Turo said quietly, his voice low and dark, eyes burning when he turned to face me.
He was in full uniform, which meant he hadn’t slept. But he’d unbuttoned the jacket, letting the sides fall loose. His cravat was completely untied, and the top buttons of his shirt open at his throat.
I used toloveseeing him like that—the hint of the man behind theposition.After we were betrothed, before I’d taken the mission to infiltrate the Nephilim, I’d told him that I liked this state of casual intimacy and he’d taken to showing up in my rooms every evening like this.
It was the only time we’d ever been physical beyond a brief kiss. At the time I’d been thrilled to tentatively unbutton his shirt further and touch the skin that even the sun had never seen. I’d been both nervous and a little giddy when he did the same to me. And when he’d spoken of what else he would do after we were vowed…
But it was all such child’s play compared to completing the bond with Melek. Yet at the time it had given me hope I would findpassion for Turo, because those hints of the man beyond the formalities and uniforms and responsibilities… they made me flutter.
Or, they used to.
Now I just felt desperately uncomfortable.
I dropped my eyes from that bared hollow at his throat and tried to gather my scattered thoughts. “How did you know I was—”
“I’ve never knownanyoneto draw you from your bed, Yilan. Not even me.”
I wanted to sink into the floor and disappear. Every inch of me screaming with the need to tell him the truth that I was fairly certain he was beginning to suspect.
Turo was fourteen years my senior. He had not come to me, his Queen, without experience. He had not come to me uncertain of himself. He had to be at leastquestioningwhy I wouldn’t touch him and yet would spend the entire night in a cell with an enemy.
He deserved better than sitting in my empty quarters, worrying and wondering.
For years he had put his own needs aside and been patient, giving me time to grow accustomed to his kiss, his touch. He’d whispered promises of how it would be, but treated me with the utmost respect and…
And deep down, I think he knew it wasn’t fear that had kept him out of my bed.
“How long have you been here?” I croaked.
“My shift ended at high moon,” he said quietly, his dark eyes seeming even darker as he stared out at me from under his heavy brows, the dark smudges of sleep deprivation shadowing his under-eyes.
His gaze was penetrating, his jaw tight.
My stomach sank. He’d barely missed me last night. In fact, we’d probably almost crossed paths in the halls. Holy shit.
I braced, ready for an argument, for combat. To defend myself.
But instead of accusing, Turo took a step towards me, his expression pained.
“Yilan, what you’re feeling is very natural.”
A jangle of alarm shot through me. Could he sense the bond?
“I have been a soldier for many years. War is ugly, and fighters can be too. I’ve seen men do things…” He cleared his throat, but his voice grew hoarse. “I’ve seengoodmen do terrible things in the rush after battle, or… or on the eve of war. Ugly things.Darkthings.And the women…” He trailed off again, rolling his shoulders as if his uniform had become too tight. “But, the Nephilim… that’s just their way. They don’t rape women out of blind fear, or rage. There’s no mental break. Theytakewomen because it’s the only way they know.”
I watched him warily.
He kept coming closer, his hands up like he was trying to soothe me. “It’s natural for an inexperienced woman who is… forced or-or coerced to find… towantthere to be more. To want it tomeanmore. It’s natural—especially if he protected you from others—for those events to become confused in your mind and heart. For you to make them more than they were. To soothe your fear or shame. But hear me, Yilan, you donothave to do that for him.”
Oh,shit.No.
I stopped being wary. “Turo…No.That’s not what’s happening here.”
His expression hardened, but he was almost at my toes. I had brought a hand up, shaking my head when he started to reach for me. I knew his heart was good—he thought he was helping. But my head spun.
How to tell him enough to ease his mind, but not so much that I pinned Melek down?
But, just as Turo’s eyes grew sad and he reached for my hands, there was a soft knock on the door.
