Page 5 of The King is Dead
The moment I appeared in the shadows of the stairwell beyond the anteroom, he turned and looked at me, his face lined with fear and grief. He’d been pacing the landing below, waiting. No doubt trying to listen.
Fuck, fuck,fuck.
I hesitated, andalmostwalked the shadows to escape beyond him. He was extremely skilled. But I was better. In the dark tower, if I truly wanted to evade him, I could. At least for a short time. And he knew it.
He froze when he saw me, his strong shoulders stiff, one hand going instinctively to his sword, his eyes searching mine.
“Yilan—”
“Not now, Turo.”
His eyes flashed and I flinched.
As far as Turo knew, he was still my betrothed. Our wedding day should have been ten days ago, the night before the Covenant of Peace. At least, that had been the plan before this war came to our doorstep.
Had I escaped the union by assigning the mission of infiltrating the Nephilim to myself? That hadn’t been my goal. But I wouldn’t deny that the impending bond hadn’t made my decision to leave harder.
It should have. Turo deserved a woman who yearned to remain close.
When I declared to my Council that I would be the one to walk the shadows among the Nephilim, they’d been agitated. But not surprised.
Turo had stared at me across that table, though. Not voicing the question—because he was a gentleman, and a fighter. But his eyes had said it all.
Will you be back in time?
Will you be back at all?
I had assured them all that I would return in a matter of weeks. The throne would be empty a month at most.
And I’d believed that.
When those days had drawn near and I still hadn’t escaped the Nephilim, he’d stopped sending guards and come for me personally. Convinced they’d found a way to manipulate me into ordering the guards not to intervene, he’d come to save me himself. Left his post and led the group of our very best shadow walkers into the camp itself, risking his life and theirs to save mine.
Even after he learned I’d stayed by choice—and God, the heartbreak in his eyes—he still hadn’t spoken up. He’d taken every order I’d given, even transporting two drugged and obnoxiously heavy Nephilim through our enemy’s land without question.
He’d called mebrilliantfor the plan.
And when we pulled it off, he had walked silently, trustingly, at my side for the days it had taken until we all set foot back in Theynor and could finallybreathe.
He’d spent every hour of those tense traveling days watching my back. He’d barely slept even though we had guards. And since we had traveled at night and slept in daylight, every morning when we’d settled into our bedrolls, he lay his within arm’s reach of mine in case I needed him.
He hadn’t asked for anything, though his eyes spokevolumes.Yet, we were never alone, and he’d respected both my tension, and the dangerous situation in which we found ourselves.
He had waited, protected, and obeyed.
And when we reached the Palace late last night, he’d transitioned seamlessly into his role asmyGeneral—relaying messages, analyzing information from our spies at the front, and issuing orders to achieve every impossible thing I asked for. Including imprisoning the strongest of the Nephilim not in the dungeon, as he’d assumed, but in a bright, airy turret suite.
It was the first time I saw him pause.
Then he’d been forced to watch while that same Nephilim—who he believed had raped me—snarled and spat and disrespected me.
I’d made him and the others leave so I could speak openly to Melek, and instead of going away, he’d posted himself here to wait.
He would comfort me if I let him.
He would protect me if danger arose.
He would accept my orders, even if he hated them, because he was a good man. And because he loved me.
