Mal stepped back and lowered his sword. He could have killed Andreas right there, could have ended him permanently, but he showed mercy instead.
“The challenge is complete,” the council leader announced. “Malachar Ashborne is declared the victor. Long live the king.”
“Long live the king,” some of the nobles echoed. Others remained silent.
Mal turned to face the council. His expression was cold. Regal. Every inch the king now.
“Now,” he said. “Perhaps someone would like to fill me in on what exactly has been happening with my kingdom in my absence?”
The council members exchanged uncomfortable and nervous glances, clearly not eager to answer.
Before anyone could speak, the doors burst open again and a woman rushed in. Young and beautiful with long red hair and an elaborate dress.
“Malachar!” She ran across the room and threw her arms around him. “You’re here! Thank the gods, you’re here! I thought I’d have to call off the wedding!”
The room went dead silent.
My blood turned to ice.
Wedding?
What fucking wedding?!
19
— • —
Wen
I froze.
Completely, utterly froze.
Wedding?
The word echoed in my head, bouncing around my skull until it was the only thing I could hear. Not the murmurs of the nobles. Not the shuffling of feet. Just that one word on repeat.
Wedding. Wedding. Wedding.
Next to me, Sorcha went rigid. Aurion cursed under his breath. “Fuck.”
Mal looked up at me across the room. His eyes found mine instantly, and I saw panic flash across his face. Pure, undiluted panic.
What. The. Fuck. Was happening?
The woman was clinging to him with a smile plastered on her face as she talked about a wedding that apparently existed.
Tears gathered in my eyes, hot and stinging. I blinked them back furiously.
I was not going to cry. Not here. Not in front of all these people who already looked at me with contempt or curiosity or pity.
Mal took a step back from the woman. Said something to her in a low voice that I couldn’t hear. His expression was tight, controlled. The Wolf King mask firmly in place.
But through the bond, I felt his distress. His desperation. His need to get to me.
I didn’t care.
I turned to Sorcha. “I’m going back to the rooms. I remember the way.”
