Page 56 of The King has Fallen (The Kingdom of the Krow #1)

~ MELEK ~

Mate.

Soulbond.

Mine.

But then I inhaled sharply, because as she revealed herself, everyone in the anteroom—including the Queen—turned and bowed or curtseyed to her…

“Yilan—” Turo growled.

“Hush,” she responded calmly, though I heard her tension. “You wanted to be sure he wouldn’t jump to attack. He has not.”

I blinked, confused for half a breath, until Yilan stepped forward, and the Queen took the circlet and diadem from her forehead and offered it on open, flat palms to Yilan, who took it and quickly settled it on her head, threw back the sides of her coat and walked right up to the bars.

The men twitched when they realized she moved closer to me, but she shot a look at Turo, then turned to face me… and they all remained behind her.

When our eyes locked, I was the only one who could see hers. And see the plea in them.

My breath stopped. She stood silently, her eyes big and deep, liquid. I wanted to fall into that gaze. My hands twitched to reach for her as her name tore from my throat and I stumbled forward—but then drew up short when she only dropped her chin and gave me a fierce warning look.

“Turo… the General has been asleep for days and will be concerned about how his countrymen are faring,” she said quietly. “Please give him the report you gave me an hour ago.”

Turo spluttered. “But—”

“Now please, General.”

Turo gaped at her, then clearly gathered his thoughts. He raised his chin and cleared his throat preparing to obey, though his eyes flashed with anger when he turned to me.

“Our scouts have returned from their foray to the swamps. The Fallen King is dead. His people know that, but fight on. Rumors abound that the Shadekin have their famed General, Melek Handras, because he disappeared at the same time as the Fetch prisoner—whom they blame for the King’s death. They’ve been unable to confirm that the General wasn’t also killed.”

He cut off then as if he was done. But Yilan shot him a look from the side. “And the rest,” she snapped.

He glared back at her and there was a moment that it seemed their wills wrestled. But then he gritted his teeth and turned back to me. “The Nephilim are stumbling and blind. As concerned with fighting among themselves as they are about conquering the nations. They made it through the ravine under the leadership of Jannus the Halfling, but only just. They hold the land by their talons. There is infighting and challenges for ranks even among the soldiers.” He glanced at Yilan, then smiled darkly at me. “The time to attack is now.”

My heart sank to my toes, and the rage that I’d been holding at bay, all the thoughts of how I’d come to be here and what it meant, rushed to the surface as the pleading in Yilan’s eyes suddenly made sense.

I stared at her, my heart twisting, flinching, pained.

The bond thrummed. And then it shrieked as it became clear that all my worst fears were realized.

For the span of a breath I was in freefall—my soul screaming for her, my body shaking with need, my mind pleading, praying, despairing.

And then I remembered.

“I will never choose anything to hurt you, Melek. You have my word.”

It was like being stabbed right in the heart.

She was a lie. Every bit. A lie and a trap to defeat me.

She was everything I’d feared.

Everything I’d asked her to promise me, everything I had promised her was meaningless.

“Fucking Fetch,” I spat.

The men roared and leaped forward, but Yilan raised her hand and they all stopped as if they’d been frozen in place.

Perhaps they had.

There had to be a heart of ice, pumping frigid water into those veins.

Perhaps she froze them in truth.

“I understand your concerns,” she said formally, though her eyes were wide and dark, locked on mine. “I know it will take some time to… process. But I want to assure you—”

“There is no point speaking, Yilan. I will never believe another word that passes your lips.”

Fear flashed in her gaze, then her eyes shuttered as Turo snapped forward again.

“You will not speak to our Queen that way!” But I ignored him, holding her gaze, letting her see every ounce of my disdain, every crumb of my disgust.

Liar. Liar. Liar.

Yilan hissed at the soldiers who were following Turo, crowding towards the bars, ready to come for me.

“Leave him!” she spat.

Turo turned on her. “He insults the crown and the Queen—”

“And I would remind you that I hold a life debt to him. Let him speak his words. They do not touch me.”

I felt her heart’s pang in the bond calling her a liar, and huffed a humorless laugh.

Turo, furious, whirled back towards me, his lips twisting in rage—but she caught his arm and ordered him back to his place. Ordered all of them back into the shadows of that anteroom.

The choice not to put windows there now suddenly made sense.

When everyone else had backed off and she stood closest to me again, her forehead was lined. Pinched.

Good. At least she retained enough humanity to have a conscience.

Then she raised her chin again and took a deep breath. “I understand your… anger,” she said carefully, that pleading entering her gaze again, but it didn’t touch her voice. “We will win this war with or without you,” she said with conviction. “But my preference is to fight alongside the honorable General. Not against him.”

And oh, the layers in that statement.

I shook my head, huffing in disbelief at the sheer audacity of her.

Unable to resist, I stormed up to the bars, ignoring her gesture to the men to stay back, though I didn’t reach through. “I would not give an ounce of my strength to you… you deceptive bitch.”

Turo roared and Yilan whirled away from me, but I ignored the rest of them and kept my eyes on her with the kind of smile I reserved for enemies, knowing eventually she would see it.

“Out. All of you,” she commanded. “Now.”

Everyone except Turo immediately turned on their heels and started out of the anteroom, though some of the women cast worried glances back over their shoulders.

It wasn’t until Yilan had taken a deep breath and was beginning to turn back to me that she realized Turo hadn’t moved, but stood aside to let the others pass him.

“Go,” she said firmly.

“But he’s a fucking Neph!”

“And the fiercest—and most honorable of them! He is angry, but he would never hurt me!”

“You can’t seriously believe—”

“Turo, do not make me discipline you,” she said quietly. “Leave. He is weak and imprisoned. I am perfectly safe.”

Turo grumbled and made a big show of re-sheathing his sword, glaring at me over her shoulder.

She sighed like a mother losing her patience, but only folded her arms and stared at him until he reluctantly turned and stalked after the others, his boots ringing on the slate floor. At the end of the anteroom, he grasped the doors, hesitating once to look at Yilan, a strange expression on his face, before walking through, closing the doors, and leaving us alone.

The hair on my arms stood up when her shoulders slumped.

Instinctively, I wanted to reach for her, gather her in, kiss her, plead with her, demand that she tell me if she was hurt, or—

But no.

No. There would be no kissing. No holding. No relief. No reassurance.

As she turned back to me and walked right up to the bars, as if she might embrace me, I took two, stumbling steps back, shaking my head, my lips peeled back from my teeth.

“Melek,” she breathed, and her voice cracked. I heard the grief—felt the pang in the bond.

And I hated her in that moment. Hated her for her lies and deception. Despised her for how she had wrapped my heart and soul around hers. Because it hit me then, when she gripped the bars and pleaded with me to come closer and my body ached to give her what she asked, that I would never be free of her.

Never.

The fucking bitch had imprisoned me more perfectly than any cage ever could. Because it didn’t matter if she opened these bars this moment and let me walk.

Because the deepest part of me was tied to her. And would remain so, no matter how much distance I put between us.