Page 32 of Zepharali: Lord of the East Winds (Lords of the Wind Book 3)

Lazaar

“How dare he!” Lazaar paced back and forth in Zepharali’s chambers.

There were so many guards positioned not only outside the door but inside the room that Lazaar didn’t bother to try to fight them to get out.

It was pointless.

“Your grace, please calm down.” Elephaa sighed. “My father had his reasons. You are everything to him, and if—”

“I won’t be handled like a child!”

Lazaar was sure his anger was creating a stifling heat because Dyan and Lyan were removing layers of their clothes.

“I’m his partner, and I want to be treated as an equal. Not a boy he can lock away until he’s ready to play again.”

Lyan shook his head. “I swear that’s not how—”

“Silence!” Lazaar barked, rattling the windows.

Dyan took Lyan by the waist and eased him toward the door and out of the line of fire.

Oleksandr tried to catch Lazaar on his hundredth pass, but he blinked away from him.

He didn’t want to be talked down, placated, or reasoned with. His beloved was wrong, period.

Lazaar could hear the battle was over. The sound of weapons clashing and the foundation shaking had come to a halt rather quickly. He’d known it would. But he should’ve been allowed to stay.

He had enough power to assist.

But Zepharali had denied him the opportunity to show his daughters and the leaders of Scáthanna his strength and that he was worthy to stand at their titan’s side.

The more he thought about the embarrassment of being carried to their bedchamber, the more furious he became.

“I cannot believe this!”

Lazaar didn’t know how many times he’d shouted that. His fists were balled tight and turning brighter red with each passing minute.

“Stay calm, lord. I beg of you,” Oleksandr pleaded.

“Calm! Calm!” Lazaar got in his face. “Have you ever been carried like a weakling, thrown into a room, then locked inside it against your will?”

Oleksandr didn’t answer.

“Exactly!”

Lazaar pressed his fists to his throbbing temples. It felt as if his head was about to burst into flames.

“I’m so tired of others deciding what’s best for me. First, the deceit of Chessuven, now this. Will my life ever be mine?”

“I’m so sorry, your grace. But it wasn’t my father nor your beloved that gave the direct order. It was the Titan of Scáthanna, and I—all of us—had no choice but to obey.”

“So you’re saying I have no one who will defend me against wrong? Not even my own guards.”

Elephaa appeared apologetic.

“The only way to fix this will be to voice your concerns to your beloved and—”

Lazaar threw his hand up to stop her so he could hear. He tilted his head, listening to the nervous breaths outside the door.

“Get in here now! You think you can hide out there?”

Zepharali walked inside, sans his guards, slowly removing his royal blue-and-gold cloak, yet to make eye contact with him.

“Thank you all for your service this evening. Will you please leave me and my—”

“Yes. Out! Out!” Lazaar pointed to the double doors.

Once the room was clear, he glared at Zepharali hard enough to make him flinch.

“Please don’t be upset with me. I only did what I thought—”

Lazaar blinked across the room and got in his beloved’s face.

“Upset…you think I’m upset?” Lazaar growled. “I. Am. Furious! Do you have any idea how betrayed, how belittled I feel?”

Zepharali appeared so hurt that Lazaar almost lost some of his ire…only some.

“All my life, I’ve had other powers-that-be make decisions without my consent or even input.” Lazaar backed away, unable to inhale his titan’s sweet-scented blood without his vampire being affected. “I never thought my own beloved would do it as well.”

“My heart, ple—”

“And you did it without a second thought and despite my resistance.” Lazaar trembled with his hurt and rage. “So don’t ‘my heart’ me. If I were really your heart’s true love, you would’ve allowed me to stand beside you. I thought I was free and safe when I came here, when I was wrapped in your arms.”

“You are.” Zepharali came toward him, but Lazaar blinked to the other side of the room. “Please don’t run from me.”

“Run! I never ran. You sent me away!”

Zepharali eyes were cast down, and the sorrow he felt radiating from his beloved’s core was almost too much for him to take. But he refused to let him off so easily.

Hot tears stung Lazaar’s eyes before they slid down his cheeks.

“You’re no different from everyone else who’s hidden me away…but from you…it’s a kind of hurt I feel I’ll never recover from.”

“No, please don’t say that,” Zepharali pleaded.

“You knew I was nervous to meet everyone. And then you humiliated me in front of your council and all your daughters.”

“I only wanted to protect you, Lazaar. You are my whole heart. If anything happened to you…I would not survive.” Zepharali’s hands shook, his wind howling like a melancholy cry. “I promise that was my only motive. I never meant to control you.”

“How am I supposed to trust you?”

Lazaar blinked from the room before Zepharali had a chance to take another step toward him.

His speed was too fast for any of his guard detail to keep up. Even Myst grew farther and farther away as he ignored her calls.

Zepharali sent his wind after him, but he deflected it back, refusing the comfort of his element and the gentle caress of his kisses.

He didn’t stop. Lazaar ran to the only place he knew would take hours to reach him.

His heart ached so badly he thought his chest would split open.

Lazaar slid down the warm trunk of the Yucca tree atop the Kipmis Mountain, buried his face in the soft fur of the kinkalope that scurried onto his lap, and cried until he was out of tears.