And then my song ended.
My voice drifted away, and I opened my eyes. My gaze was on the sky, but motion out of the corner of my eye startledme. I spun toward it. Someone had been standing in the doorway of that building. I caught only a glimpse of his back as they turned away. But I would know the breadth of those shoulders anywhere.
Biting my lip, I huddled into myself. I hadn't sung to another person in years. It used to be part of my daily life. I had a good voice, and my tribe often asked me to sing at community events. I'd been proud then. No longer. Now, the thought of the King listening to me sing sent anxiety through me. Had he liked my song? Or was my tone too high? My melody off? With a grimace, I realized that Bara was still there, inside my mind. It didn't matter that he'd never heard me sing. He had destroyed my confidence, and that affected everything.
But the longer I stared at that empty doorway, the more I wished the King would come back. I took that as another win.Fuck you, Bara!
Chapter Eight
The journey back to Ahanu was tense. There were so many things between the King and me now, all gathered during our outing. The captives, the new threat, my song, and, of course, the embrace we'd shared. I was perched on the edge of my bench across from His Majesty again, hands in my lap and wings lifted awkwardly.
On the floor beside the King's foot was a box of evidence he had collected. I stared at it, wondering if he'd found more ribbons.
“Yes,” the King's velvet voice brushed against my skin.
I looked up at him. “Excuse me, Your Majesty?”
“I saw you looking at the box. You think we found more silk. We did. I decided to keep some as proof. I burned the rest.”
“I see,” I whispered.
“You don't have to fear it.”
“I don't.”
“Then why did you just move down the bench away from the box?”
I looked around. Indeed, I was closer to the window. “I don't know.”
“You will never be bound like that again.”
“No, I won't.” I looked out the window.
“Eliel!” he snapped.
I flinched and spun my head to look at him.
“You will never be bound like that again!”
My gaze shivered over his face. King Raventar was breathtaking when he smiled, but like this—full of fury, justice, and passion—he was someone so far above me that no matter how hard and high I flew, I would never reach him. All I could do was hope he would come to me.
Unable to form a reply, I nodded.
Softening his tone, the King asked, “Would you like to see what we found?”
“All right.” I lowered my gaze to the box, tensing as if it were full of snakes. No, that's not accurate. Snakes didn't scare me half as much as what was in that box.
King Raventar withdrew a smaller box and set it aside. Then he pushed the larger box over to me. “There are some papers and . . . tools.”
I leaned over and carefully removed a leather portfolio. I didn't want to see the tools. If they were tools. Undoing the leather tie, I caught a smell that was familiar, but I couldn't place it. Frowning, I flipped open the flap and pulled out several sheets of paper. Holding the papers atop the portfolio on my lap,I skimmed through them, my stomach twisting at the lists of “guests” including age, sex, and race.
I shook my head. “This isn't Bara's handwriting, nor did I see his symbol on any of those crates. This isn't his style.” I grimaced. “Keeping captives to sell? No.”
“You think they're being sold?”
I looked up at the King. “I'm assuming so. Why else do this?”
He shrugged. “I don't know. This feels odd to me.”
