Page 72 of The King's Man
How had we gotten here? How was it possible that minutes ago he’d stared at me as if I were the answer to his prayers, and now he looked at me like a stranger?
Anannoyingstranger?
He pushed the tent-flap aside, but waited for me to walk through first, before following me, staying at my back as he had before—and like before, when other men met us on the trail or saw us from their tents, their eyes went straight to him.
I’d thought after that roar, they might leer. But Jann was right—they all seemed more wary of him than ever. A little bit afraid.
There was a moment as we turned a corner on the trail that another of those creatures appeared seemingly from nowhere—for such big men, they were light-footed when I was preoccupied—and I flinched.
It wasn’t the gut-wrenching fear I’d had before, just a reflex. A startle.
But as the Neph caught sight of me and smiled, there was a deep, resonant growl behind me and the new guy froze.
Like a deer coming across a wolf.
He stayed still a moment, then turned slowly and left in the direction from which he’d come. Jann’s warmth shifted against my back like he’d stepped even closer.
As I watched the man hurry away, I was curious. I’d seen the rank and file Neph defer to Jann before, but none of them had seemedafraid. Only giving their General his due. Was he doing something to make this one think—
I snapped my head to look at him over my shoulder, but Jann merely put a hand to my back and nudged me to keep walking, his face an expressionless mask. As if I was nothing more than a herd animal to be shepherded to the right place. As if he weren’t even irritated. He felt…nothing.
And somehow, that was worse.
It landed like a blow so that I missed a step on the trail—and of course, Jann caught my elbow and kept me upright like a child who needed a leash.
I wanted to scream.
I wanted to weep.
That couldnotbe allowed to happen.
It took every ounce of the self-discipline I had honed since I was fourteen years old to take ahold of my body and keep myself firmly under control.
My chest panged and my eyes ached, but I yanked my arm out of Jann’s grip, raised my chin and kept walking.
I would not break down where he could see.
I wouldnotlet him see that he’d hurt me—because hurting meant caring. And if he was untouched, I would be too.
While I might curse myself for my hope, for my naivete in believing that somehow he’d been different than all the others, I let none of it show on my face, or in my posture.
But when we approached the King’s tent and Jann slipped ahead of me to clear the guards and my heart did that little flip and dragged me after him as if my body had a mind of it own, and that mind was terrified to be out of his sight, I muttered a curse and hurried after him.
When we passed through the tent-flap and into the dimmer interior, something about the way he’d twitched the canvas out of the way brought a memory of his catlike strength rushing back.
He crouched on the end of the bed, head low and eyes locked on me—a predator on prey.
“Be certain, Diadre. This is no small thing,” he growled.
“I can see that,” I snorted, flapping a hand at his impressive cock.
His expression grew more serious. “Not only that. The claiming is real.”
Something about that clanged in my chest and my breath rushed out of me. “You’ve already claimed me.”
“Not like this. Not in truth.” His eyes shone as if they’d glow in lower light. Every muscle quivered with tension. He leanedcloser, one hand coming forward to brace on the bed a foot from me. “If I take you… you will bemine.”
The claiming. That’s what this was? That fuckingNephilim claiming?
