“That’s why I’m here.” Orange flames dance in my eyes.
Adrian’s hand slides from his hair to his neck. “Wait a bloody second. You’ve been with Selene, guarding her. No… no… don’t you dare tell me…”
“Then I won’t tell you.” Everett’s magic flares, ready to defend me and my mate.Relax, let’s see how he reacts, I tell the time magic.
His fingers turn into a cast, keeping his neck from bending. His inhale is a strong gust of wind. “You truly bonded with the queen? Hey, don’t look at me like that. I know what it’s like to have a mate. I know you’re about to snap my neck. But remember, I have put my life, my mate’s, and my son’s life behind you. All my bets are on you, Titus. The men want you as their leader.”
I shape the fire in my palm into a ball. “Why not you?” I ask.
“I never wanted a crown.”
“Neither did I, but people keep trying to shove one on my head. First Everett, then you.” Now I need to accept that fate in order to keep my mate safe.
“Everett saw my future. I’m a hand for you to use.” His eyes drift down. “I’m fine with that.”
What’s he not telling me? I make a mental note to ask later.
“We all have our roles to play. This is mine. I lead armies, not kingdoms and… runes.” Sweat shines off his brow as my flames heat his office.
“You know a lot more than you previously let on.”
“As do you.” His eyes burn into the fabric covering my mate mark.
“What happened to your comment about not knowing what Everett wanted me to find?”
“It was easy to figure out. Everett told me to keep an eye on Sable, to let her break the laws here. So I did.” He walks over to his desk. “I kept all her midnight rendezvous a secret from Galen. But my men are loyal to me. They told me everything. Take a seat.” He nods toward the empty chair.
My steps feel like a journey until I sit down, preparing to be slapped with more secrets.
His elbow hits his desk as he presses a finger to his temple. “Sable has an eye for kings. We all know she was fucking Galen,” he spits in disgust. “But she also spread her legs for Hector Von Manson.”
Sounds like a name suited for an asshole; just Sable’s type. I steeple my hands. “Who’s that? What kingdom does he rule over?”
“You’ve been so busy fighting the fae, all my men have, but the world is large. Our war is not the only one raging. Hector Von Manson is a mage from the Valley of Sand and Bones.”
“That’s so far west of here.” I reply. How does this benefit Sable? “Wait, that’s where the girl with that shadow creature said she came from.”
Adrian nods, "Yes. It means the valley's monsters have come here. I've been there. It's all sand, palm trees, and insects bigger than my foot. Takes more than one sword to kill them. But in those burning lands is Hector’s castle. Or maybe I should just call it refuge."
“Refuge for what?”
“Not what.Who,” Adrian states. “Hector trains mages in unnatural ways.”
“Cut to the point.”
“Hector was the son of King Ferdinand of Sandia.”
“Never heard of Sandia.”
“Hector burned Sandia and its people to the ground using metal.”
“Metal?”
“One of his talents is causing metal to melt. He took all the army’s weapons, melted them, and turned them into a big fucking shiny mirror, which reflected the sun. He aimed it at the villages—made of palm wood, and thatched roofs—and the roads into town.
“It got so hot that the houses caught on fire, and people ran to escape, but they only made it a few steps into the road before the heat took them. Poof!”
“Sounds like a noble gentleman.” My tongue tests the point of my fangs. Hector is worse than Galen because he’ll willingly tear things down, whereas Galen would never burn a castle down. He’d add it to his pages of titles.
