“The wedding isn’t far off now.” My heart skips saying it aloud. Not long until she’s mine and he can’t touch her.
“Not quick enough. Once we get the Commitment Ball out of the way, we’ll have the wedding soon after. This plan can’t wait.”
I’m still processing what this implies when someone knocks on the door.
“Come in!” King Malaxor shouts.
I look up, and my chest jolts.
Alaya stands in the doorway, looking so radiant it almost hurts to look. I glance at my father in confusion.
“Alaya is here for a meeting with me,” he says.
“Oh. I didn’t realise. I’ll leave.” I start to rise.
“No. You’ll stay.” He motions to the chair across from his desk. “Please, sit, Alaya.”
She doesn’t look nervous. She’s surprisingly at ease in this office, and that realisation sends ice through my veins. Has she been here before? Alone with him? Why?
“Thank you for coming again,” he says.
Again. The word confirms my fears. What has he done?
“I’m not sure what else you could want from me, Your Majesty,” she says.
“Last time, you told me of your Desolate state. I know this upsets you, and I had an idea.” The gleam in his eyes makes my skin crawl.
“Kiernan, I want you to use your Amplifier Gift on her.”
Horror floods through me. I’ve used my Gift on the Thorn Guards countless times, but never on anyone else. And I’ve only ever amplified innate abilities—never affected another’s Gift. Alaya is Desolate. She has no Gift. Where would my power go? What if it hurts her?
I shake my head and back away from the desk, but the King grabs my arm. His nails dig deep into my forearm, right through the sleeve of my robe.
I look at Alaya. Her face nearly makes my legs buckle. She looks petrified—eyes wide and searching, mouth slightly open in shock.
“Father …”
He leaps around the desk, hauling her up from the chair by her arm. He stands behind her, one arm snaking over her shoulders and pressing into her throat, the other around her waist, pinning her arms.
“Do it!” he shouts.
I hope she can see the conflict on my face. I hope she knows that if I had a choice, I wouldn’t be doing this. But he’s more powerful than me—my father and the King. To defy him is courting death, no matter who you are.
She slumps in his embrace as I move around the desk. My Gift thrums beneath my skin, responding to my panic, to his command. I coax it closer to the surface until it sparks just below my fingertips.
Whatever small amount of trust she has in me will shatter. I make the mistake of looking into those violet eyes—the same eyes that looked at me full of passion and need last night, those long dark lashes that fluttered with pleasure.
“No!”
The word tears from my throat before I can stop it.
King Malaxor lets out a low growl, his eyes fixed on me. He releases her, throwing her towards the door. She nearly trips but grabs the handle before she falls.
“Leave,” he says, snarling.
She looks between us. When her wide eyes reach mine, I nod.
“Go.”
