Page 61 of Prize for the King
“We’ll tie her up in the carriage,” the Unmentionable says through clenched teeth as we shuffle forward, the redhead’s filthy paw still on my mouth.
He’s the one doing most of the legwork, since the other man is limping. My puny toothpick of a knife did some damage. At least I can be proud of that.
“There,” the Unmentionable says with triumph as horses whinny somewhere nearby. “Just through there.”
But the redhead stops moving. I realize I hear something, a sort of a soft, cutting whistle. His hold goes limp, and I pull away with a cry, stumbling into a run. Behind me, the horses neigh in alarm.
I don’t take more than twelve steps when my body collides with someone, strong, warm hands reaching out to hold me. Even before I see him, I know it’s Khay. He smells like him, like safety and love, and I swallow a sob of disbelief.
But it’s not just a panic-induced dream. Khay is here, and now Raduna charges past us with an earsplitting roar. I hear Magnar’s voice.
“No! I need to question… Fuck.”
There is a sick sound behind me and a splat. Arvi runs past, throwing knives as he goes, and I finally understand I’m safe. They found me.
I was limp in Khay’s hold, but now I wrap my arms around him, pressing in as close as I can while I sob into his chest. He picks me up easily, urging me to straddle his torso, and carries me like this.
“It’s okay, little diamond. We found you. I’m so sorry. Are you hurt?”
I’m achy and terrified, and I think I’ve aged by a decade, but none of that matters now. “No. They didn’t hurt me. Much.”
“Much?” His voice gains a dark edge. “Good thing they’re dead, then. No one gets to lay a hand on you, my lady.”
I pull my face away from the crook of his neck where it was buried, and look around, blinking away tears.
Magnar holds the Unmentionable’s head high by the hair as he tells off Raduna, whose head hangs low in shame, red braids swaying down his chest.
“Maybe you try!” Magnar sarks in anger, turning the head to face Raduna. “Ask him who he worked with, go on! Who spies for him? Maybe he will tellyou!”
Raduna shakes his head in remorse. “I apologize, my king. When I saw him hurting our girl, I just stopped thinking. I promise to do better.”
“And you!” Magnar whips to Arvi, who stares at the headless body at his feet with a toothy grin. “Why don’t you ask the one who’s got your knives for eyes, huh? See if he tells you something!”
Arvi huffs, completely unbothered unlike Raduna. “Oh, yeah, I’ll go and see. ‘Cause he can’t. Good one, my king. I’m actually interested in the knife in this one’s thigh. That’s not mine. He was smart to leave it in, you know. It nicked the artery.”
I clear my throat, and all their eyes fall on me. “It’s sort of mine. I tried to get away, but it was too little.”
Arvi nods, his eyes glinting. “Nice job. Pull it out next time, eh? They bleed out faster that way.”
Magnar drops the head, which rolls away in the grass, and comes to me. Not caring that his hands are filthy with blood, he frames my face with his palms. Khay still holds me high, so Magnar doesn’t have to hunch. We are face to face.
His eyes are bright and insane, his face lined with tension. Irealize he’s not angry—he’s terrified. But as we watch each other, his expression grows tender. He swipes a bloody thumb over my cheek.
“You tried to run from them, pet?” he asks, his voice soft and incredulous.
I frown, because of course I did—and then I realize Magnar thinks I went willingly. My heart stutters with outraged hurt. Then I remember Ididconsider going away with the Unmentionable, but in the end, that wasn’t what I chose.
“Of course I tried to run,” I say, my voice breaking. “I called for you. I thought you wouldn’t come!”
As tears of helpless fear stream down my face, Magnar kisses my lips, swallowing my sobs, licking away the salt. I kiss him back with the fervor of my relief, my thighs squeezing Khay’s torso as his hands slide down to my butt. I’m trapped between the two men, snug and cozy, safe and taken care of, and I never want to leave.
Magnar pulls away too soon, leaving me gasping for air and blinking in confusion as I try to climb Khay even higher, my limbs buzzing with a feverish need for something I can’t name.
“He thinks you hate him for forcing you into this marriage, you know,” Khay murmurs as Magnar turns away, pressing his bloody hand to his forehead as he composes himself. “He was convinced you ran away. One of the soldiers heard your cries in the alley, and he got us. I knew you didn’t want to leave us, little diamond.”
I hide my face in Khay’s neck, breathing in his warm scent as waves of relief crash down my spine, more and more powerful. I can stay. They saved me.
“I don’t hate him. I… I don’t know,” I admit, my heart and mind a tangle of thoughts and emotions.
