Page 49 of The King has Fallen (The Kingdom of the Krow #1)

SOUNDTRACK: Step Into Darkness by Dubkiller and Archer

~ MELEK ~

We walked the back trails through the camp towards his tent, and I was shaking.

All around us, in every corner of the camp, the Nephilim were celebrating, cheering, playing music, dancing. They sounded happy.

I walked this trail as if it led me to the executioner's gallows.

The fact that I was the one carrying Yilan was the only thing keeping me sane. But with every step we drew closer to his tent and the moment when he would expect me to relinquish her to his hands.

Never. Fucking. Happening.

Breath short and shallow, I silently pleaded God’s forgiveness for this treason, begging Him to understand that I could not allow her to be harmed.

In my arms, Yilan was wrapped in the fur that I’d tossed over her, and her hands and feet were released. I’d quickly returned that precious cotton to her ankle as I pretended to sort out the best way to carry her.

Now she lay in my arms, pale and silent, her head turned and looking at Gault who walked behind me so he could follow to his tent. He said he didn’t know the way. I suspected it was a ruse.

He played the thug, often. Brutish. Piggish. Selfish and petulant. He made way for people to underestimate him—and in that way, identified those who were trying to manipulate, or outwit him.

They always regretted it.

Gault was lazy and selfish. He was also sly, and very, very strong. When he was unbridled, he didn’t just cow a foe, he tore them to pieces. Literally.

He’d been born to the throne, yet he might have lost it to some of the others who were close cousins. Yet, he had ruled since his eighteenth year—when he killed his older brother—and he had faced every challenge since.

When it mattered, he unleashed. He became a roaring, ferocious beast of strength and cunning.

There was every chance this was all a ruse, all a ploy to get me alone and away from my weapons.

Or he could legitimately have forgotten the message and was now making me carry my claim to him, a public display of my submission because it bolstered his smug ego to have others see me do so.

I would put nothing past him. But since he’d told me to go first—claiming he didn’t remember how to reach his tent from here—I was forced to walk with him at my back, leaving me no easy room to simply toss her aside, or flee with her.

He was leaving me no choice but to kill him.

I looked down at her, and her eyes cut up from behind me, to meet mine, wary and alert.

I wish I could speak into minds, or share images as she had. Reassure her that I would not fail her.

But to my surprise, she inserted herself into my mind, an image of herself holding and petting me. Soothing. Reassuring… and the dead King on the dirt behind me.

I swallowed hard, but nodded once. Her eyes flashed with surprise and she tucked her chin down, but turned back to watch Gault over my shoulder—the image now shifting to what she saw so I’d know if he came at me from behind.

I hated this. Hated knowing there was no other choice. But it was clear that my honor would no longer carry me safely through this war. I was being set up. Either the King truly wanted to touch my mate, or he wanted to use her as a pawn in his game to destroy me. Regardless, the end result would be the same.

I’d cut off any limb he so much as brushed her with. Starting with those fingers, and that tongue. And yet, even as that conviction settled in my chest, even as I accepted that there was no other course, grief made my steps heavy. Not for Gault—the man was a pig. But for Yilan. I would gladly lose my life to the executioner in defense of her… but I had to find a way to kill the King and get her away quickly enough that she wasn’t simply taken by someone else as she fled.

And then I remembered the Fetch and my breath caught.

Yilan glanced up at me, then went back to watching Gault.

“Sing,” I said quietly, remembering she’d said that’s how she called them. “Sing the song that takes you away… you’ll need it,” I murmured.

She took a deep breath and I thought she’d sing. But she shook her head and the words rushed from her in a breath.

“There’s no point.” She placed an image in my mind then—empty forest. No Fetch close enough to hear.

I was looking for careful words to encourage her to sing anyway, just in case, when Gault spoke up from behind me.

“You will not be denying me anything, Fetch. Not even once. Your General may be lax in his discipline, but I am not. You will obey the very time I speak, or you will pay. Do you understand?”

Yilan shrank in my arms and I almost tossed her aside and just went for him then—but there was too much risk of someone else stepping into the trail and seeing before I could get her away—or catching her while I fought him.

I had to get him in the tent. I had to get a hand on one of his weapons.

And I had to kill him.

My pulse thrummed in my skin and my breath was short. The hair on the back of my neck stood up, my instincts expecting attack from behind at any second.

Yilan kept her head down and her expression miserable, but I felt her tensing, preparing.

“You need to be good,” I muttered as if I was preparing her for the King to take her. “Do as you’re told and nothing more. Stay out of the way unless you’re instructed otherwise.”

“Do not interfere. Leave this to me,” she breathed.

Before I could tell her fuck no, we were at Gault’s huge tent. I turned sideways, putting her back to the flaps that covered the doorway, letting her get a straight look at Gault, to remind her what we were dealing with, as I used her back to push the canvas aside.

I scanned the tent immediately, walking her towards his bed at the other end of the massive tent, looking for his weapons. They were always plentiful, and sharp. I needed to get one myself, without letting him get close enough to grab one for himself.

Several blades, swords, and spears leaned against the furniture at the back of the tent—behind his bed. Clocking their locations, I determined that I would lay her on the bed and make a fuss of settling with her to give myself time to grasp whichever was closest before Gault could get a hand on her—

Skin prickling with nerves, my steps got faster as I hurried her towards the bed. Behind me Gault entered and made straight for the writing desk at the side of the tent, rummaging through things there until he came up with what he’d been looking for.

He nodded, and rumbled, rolling it and tying it off with his royal knot as he approached, smiling that dark smile as I lay her down on his bed.

Her fingers dug into my forearm, but I ignored it, eyes on Gault, mentally preparing for the moment he’d look away, so I had half a second to whirl and grab one of the weapons—

“Take this to the generals. Then lead the advance.” Gault stalked towards me holding out the rolled parchment. “In a few days, when we hear of your success, I will kill her. But in the meantime…” He leered at her and I stiffened. “I will keep her busy.”

I closed my eyes and took a breath. He wasn’t going to look away. I needed to just do this, as quickly as possible. I’d go for the spear because his arms were longer than mine and it would give me better reach—

Gault laughed. “I know you claimed her, Melek. If it helps, I will tell the men you gave her to me as a parting gift.”

I was shaking, starting to turn as if I’d face him, but mentally aiming to whip around and grab that spear—just two steps away and—

Instinctively, I froze.

She was not property. She was mate.

She would not be defended in subterfuge. He would know that I stood for her, and that he paid the price.

I straightened from the bed, hands open and ready, body tensed, and Yilan gasped.

“Melek, don’t—”

“She is mine,” I growled. Gault’s eyes flashed. “She is not for sharing.”

His chin dropped, but he smiled. “I am King. What is yours is mine. I will share her with whoever the fuck I want.”

“No, you won’t,” I said, taking one step forward, just one more to the left and this would begin.

Gault’s eyes lit up. “Are you challenging me?”

“Only for her, but the result will be the same.”

“I knew it,” he breathed. “I knew you and your fucking honor were all an act. A ploy to win the men.”

I darted aside for the spear and in the same blink Gault turned, drawing a two-handed sword from somewhere I hadn’t known it was secreted and whirling smoothly to bring it up En guard.

There was a flash of fear in the bond as Yilan watched us stare at each other.

The area where we stood was only about fifteen feet wide, leaving both of us very little room to swing. And yet, we both knew the other was restricted as well.

We began to circle, weapons wide—I forced him towards the bed and away from the other weapons I could see, though it was clear he had them hidden in places I didn’t know all over this tent.

“She belongs to me,” I growled. “I’ve taken her. And kept her. She doesn’t need your dirty prick.”

“Oh, but she needs yours?”

“Yes.” Mate. Soulbond. Mine.

Gault laughed and swung the sword, I blocked it once, his sword clanging against the butt of my spear—shaving a sliver from it—and shoved him back, then we began to circle again.

“This is perfect. I knew you were far more cunning than you let on, but I thought you were too cowardly to actually challenge me. The great General Melek,” he purred. “Always full of surprises.”

“No, just strength and certainty.”

Gault sneered and the sword flashed—but when I stepped in to block again, he instead whipped to his left and clamped a hand on her ankle.

Yilan yelped and grabbed for the furs as he began dragging her off the bed, holding the sword up towards me. My heart screamed as she was dragged backwards, grasping, but unable to get a grip on anything substantial until he had her almost off the bed. And because she was halfway between us, it restricted my options for attack.

I growled and danced aside, trying to get access myself and keep him farther from her. But Gault kept turning, dragging her across the corner of the bed to keep her at least partly between us—but then she finally clamped her hands on the footboard and, for a second, she stopped his retreat.

I roared forward, darting, stabbing with the spear in a flurry of whirls and thrusts, forcing him to let her go and bring the sword up in both hands.

The impact of the weapons rang through my arms as surely as the blade of the sword sang in the clash. But at least he wasn’t touching her anymore.

Yilan was scrambling back over the bed to get behind me as I pushed him back, deeper into the tent, teeth bared and snarling.

“She is mine.”

“Everything that is yours is mine,” he spat back, twisting that sword and swinging it up unexpectedly. I only managed to jerk aside at the last minute and that razor's edge of a blade shaved the hair from my arm.

“Bullshit,” I grunted. “She’s no simple conquest.”

Clang, stamp, whirl and clang again.

“Oh? Are you breeding her?”

“God willing. You will not take her, Gault.”

He was beginning to sweat, but very little strain showed on his face, the smug fucker. “So you think she’s strong enough to survive?”

He blocked my stab and sent her a lusty glance that made me roar and leap for him.