Page 27 of The King is Dead
I also didn’t trustmyselfnot to simply cast my pain at her if I started talking about feelings. So, I had done the best I could, which was to stay silent rather than hurling cruel accusations.
If we ever moved past this, I would owe her an apology for the ugly words I’d spewed when I woke up in this place.
Something about that niggled, but before I could examine it a shadow flickered at the edge of my vision, and I turned my head quickly to see who was appearing—but there was nothing.
My hackles stood up, instincts prickling as I sat up slowly, eyes scanning for any movement, any flicker of a Fetch materializing out of the shadows. Or something worse. But even though I sat silent, barely breathing for several minutes, there was nothing.
What had it been? A curious Fetch just trying to get a look at a Nephilim?
An enemy, making a mistake?
An ally of some kind?
“Who’s there?” I said quietly, my voice a low husk because of the broken and uncomfortable sleep. But if I had seen someone, they were gone. Or hiding better now. I couldn’t catch even a hint.
And slowly my instincts eased.
Had it been instincts? Or was I just jumpy? I hadn’t slept well. I kept turning this entire situation over in my mind.
Mate.
Crown.
King…
I’d been considering this for hours, but the problem would not let me rest.
As the morning passed into afternoon, I turned those circles over and over again. But always, always the circle looped back to mymate.
The softening in my chest when I thought of her made me growl. I wantedher. But I didn’t wantit.
King of the Fetch?
Me?
It was ridiculous.
A small voice in the back of my head whispered,is it?
I was her mate, chosen by God. And she was Queen of her people. By their traditions, she was born to select their King…
But me? A hulking Nephilim without significant royal blood leading the most enigmatic of the nations on the continent into peace with theNephilim?
Mypeople.
It was either the most perfect of plans, or the most unimaginable clusterfuck.
For a breath, I let myself see the vision… returning to my men, calling them to hear me. The shock alone would silence them when I invited them to peace.
Then reality hit.
I might have laughed if it weren’t so horrific. Imagine the fuckingchaos.
Even if Jannus and the others had subdued Zaryndarandthe Tuskkarians, even if they weren’t still fighting, the ranks would be a mess as the hierarchy was in flux and everyone fought to find their new place.
I couldn’t lead peace talks with a dead King. But even if the next King came from among the warriors and the Nephilim crowned him while still on the battlefield, it wouldn’t be the end of the process.Eventually, the King—and his heir—would have to be acknowledged in Valgorath.
Did those in Ebonreach even know that Gault was dead?
