Page 55 of King Foretold (Realm of Four Kingdoms #2)

I release the breath I’d been holding when I spot the silvery pins securing the two halves of the cangue together.

Like the net that held him earlier, the cangue binds the former king’s magic as well as his body.

I step farther into the cell, but Ethan wraps his hand around my wrist and half shields me with his body.

I almost click my tongue in impatience, but the aggravating little smirk playing around the tyrant’s mouth stops me. I’d be giving the bastard ammunition.

“Come to see me so soon?” He raises his eyebrows in pleased surprise, chillingly convincing. “Did you miss me, son? And look, you even brought your pet.”

I give Ethan’s hand a warning squeeze. Don’t let him bait you, I say into his mind.

His gaze shoots toward me at the same time I freeze in shock.

How did I do that in my human form? I don’t know how I’m doing it, I yelp.

Telepathically. Because apparently, I can do that now.

The tyrant’s eyes skip back and forth between us. We’ll figure it out later.

“We have come as a courtesy to the king father.” I tilt my head in a half bow. “As you would understand, the throne cannot remain empty for long, so the coronation must proceed without delay.”

“Must I listen to the animal prattle on about nonsense?” the prisoner snaps and bares his teeth at Ethan. “You will have to kill me to take my throne.”

Don’t, Ethan, I warn. He’s baiting you.

“We will have to bind your magic, of course, but the king will be honored to have you attend the ceremony to signal peace and solidarity to the people of the Kingdom of Mountains.” I continue as though the male hasn’t spoken. “Are there any guests of honor that you would like to invite?”

The tyrant’s laughter grows from a quiet chuckle to an unhinged cackle, then abruptly stops altogether. I’ve faced many horrors in my life, but nothing has turned my blood to ice like the madman in front of me.

“I will not relinquish the throne, boy.” His eyes narrow into hateful slits, but his voice is cool and silky like the skin of a venomous snake. “Especially if you intend to muddy our bloodline with this filthy beast.”

“ No one speaks about her that way.” Ethan growls, and a stream of magic pulses out of his palm, slamming his father against the wall and holding him aloft. The cangue jerks around the male’s neck, making him cough and gag. “If you so much as look at her wrong, I will make you wish you were dead.”

Come back to me, Ethan. This isn’t you.

“He deserved that,” I say out loud, pushing Ethan’s arm down to his side. The tyrant falls to the ground, the wooden slats scraping against the rough prison wall. Flattery didn’t work, so I attack his fragile ego. “But don’t waste your energy on the pathetic fool. He’s not worth it. Look at him.”

I watch my taunt hit home, triumph flaring in my chest. The male scrambles to his knees, holding the unwieldy cangue aloft. His bulging eyes bounce off the walls of the cell as anger and denial twist his face. I can do this. I can make him talk without resorting to my sick power.

“It’s true what Shim Duna said about him.

He doesn’t have the power of invincibility anymore.

Even his own spy knew he was weak.” But the old king is far from harmless.

Even locked away in a dungeon, the tyrant will find a way to make sure Duna dies for revealing his secret and wounding his ego.

I just signed her death warrant, and all I feel is grim satisfaction—especially since the next insult will tip him over the edge.

“He’s in no position to threaten anyone.

The Kingdom of Mountains already rejected him as its king. ”

“Even if you usurp the throne, your reign will never be secure as long as I live,” he rasps, desperation bleeding into his words.

“Are you trying to convince me to kill you?” Ethan arches a mocking brow, his anger back under control.

“N ... no.” The tyrant clambers across the hard ground on his knees. “You will die if you kill me. She will die too. Everyone will die.”

Piercing horror slices through my skull. Daeseong, I think to Ethan. My fingers dig into his arm, and he steps closer, pressing the sides of our bodies together.

“Save the dramatics for someone who cares.” Ethan scoffs, masking his shock with arrogance. “Will you cooperate in my coronation? Or will you rot away down here? Perhaps, you prefer a quick death.”

“Everyone will die. Everyone will die without me,” the prisoner mutters, with the whites of his eyes showing. “The Amheuk will swallow this realm whole. Only I can stop him.”

“What are you going on about?” Ethan tsks impatiently, crossing his arms over his chest. “Stop who?”

The old king’s expression suddenly turns sly. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Are you really so important that only you can stand between the Amheuk and this realm?” I jeer, delivering another blow to his ego.

“I’m not surprised you suffer from delusions of grandeur.

You’ve never even seen the golden axe and the silver axe, have you?

You’ve never worn the true crown of the Kingdom of Mountains.

The Amheuk wouldn’t lower itself to bargain with an impostor. ”

I’m going by a hunch here. Ethan holds the golden axe and the silver axe, the true crown of the Kingdom of Mountains.

The prophecy proclaimed him the King Foretold.

The tyrant wouldn’t be so obsessed with holding on to power if he didn’t think his claim to the throne was tenuous.

Perhaps the throne had never been rightfully his.

“What do you know about the crown of the Kingdom of Mountains?” His derision is underlined with uncertainty. “The golden axe and the silver axe are a children’s fairy tale. I am the King of Mountains. Whatever crown I wear is the rightful crown.”

“Why would the true King of Mountains join forces with the Amheuk?” He never said he had joined forces with the darkness, but my gamble pays off when the tyrant flinches. Gotcha. “That’s what you’ve done, isn’t it?”

He cackles that eerie laugh and says in a singsong voice again, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Explain yourself,” Ethan commands with implacable authority, “if you value your pitiful life.”

The old king sits cross-legged on the floor once more, his regal air at odds with the madness that possessed him just a moment ago. “Get out.”

“What?” Ethan frowns, taken aback.

“Get. Out.” The tyrant turns cold eyes on his son. “I will speak to the gumiho alone.”

Ethan barks out a harsh laugh. “Like hell you will.”

“It’s okay.” I place my hand on his arm, eyeing the prisoner. The old king tilts his head and smiles benignly at me. Bile rises to my throat. “I’ll talk to him alone.”

“You will—” Ethan begins in a low growling voice.

Ethan, don’t. We have to stop Daeseong, I plead in his mind. Trust me. I can get him to talk.

“Give me five minutes,” I say lightly, holding his gaze. Please, Ethan. I see it in his eyes. He’s going to give in, because he can’t say no to me. Because he loves me. Because he trusts me.

I love you more than life. Even telepathically, my words tremble with raw longing and vulnerability.

His face remains impassive, but his eyes burn with love, desperate and beautiful.

His hand clenches and unclenches at his side like he’s holding himself back from hauling me into his arms. I’ll see you in five minutes, Ethan.

“Fine, five minutes.” He glares at his father with lethal warning, then he turns to me and whispers, “See you soon, Sunny.”

I watch him walk out of the cell. Ethan will never know that I can make his father talk—that I can take away his free will.

But I will do anything and everything else to find out Daeseong’s whereabouts before I resort to that despicable power.

Because Ethan deserves the best version of me. Not a monster.