He slumps to the floor, lifeless.
“Remove this filth from my presence,” the king commands to the waiting guards.
Those fathomless dark eyes meet mine, and I shiver.
Chapter Sixteen
The hall empties, and I stand to make my escape, only to find my way blocked by a maelstrom of shadows. I shudder, the ruthless killing power of all those tendrils front and center in my brain. If they meant me harm, I’d already be dead, so I reach for calm and stay still.
In the next heartbeat, the king appears in the middle of the mass, the whorls of shadow sinking into his luminous brown skin, climbing his throat and settling into place.Aether pillar,I think—moving through darkness has to be kinetic—and the ease with which he does it proves that he’s undoubtedly of sovran rank, which I suspected already.
Ashes below, the man is scarily large. Those epaulets make his shoulders seem even broader, the spiked edges adding a ferocity that makes my pulse skip. Or perhaps that’s just his looming presence, the magic within him barely contained by that powerful, lethal body.
I force myself not to notice the sharpness of his jaw as he towers over me, the harsh mouth that isn’t overtly full but sensual nonetheless, and the darkly possessive look in those eyes as they roam over me from head to toe.
Though what he’s possessive about, I have no idea.
Shutters slam down over his gaze when he notices me staring back, his gaze going purposefully blank as if he hadn’t meant to be so transparent.
I attempt a curtsy and break the fraught silence that throbs between us. “Your Majesty.”
“I knew you would shine more than the brightest star in the sky,” he rasps. “That suits you well.”
Oh.The gown. I’d forgotten I was wearing what he had chosen.
“I’m not a doll you can dress to your specifications, you know,” I tell him, despite the indecent—and categorically unwanted—rush of pleasure at his words.
One of those dark eyebrows vaults, his lips curling into the tiniest smirk. “I don’t make it a habit of playing with dolls, my lady. At least not until I’m behind closed doors.”
The underlying gravel in his words makes that reply far more provocative than it should be... and has me unsettled. “By the maker, is that ajokefrom the cruel nightmare king?” I shoot back, his nearness and his smoke and rich oud scent clouding my good sense.
“Cruel nightmare king?” he echoes. “I suppose I’ve been called worse.”
“It’s not a compliment.”
Instead of responding, he runs a hand through his hair, his fingers making the silken silver strands catch the light of the nearby sconce. “I wager you’re as stingy with those as you are with your truths.”
I sniff. “I do not offer praises lightly. Like many things in life, they have to be earned. And I’ve told you the truth as I know it.”
“Though not as it may be,” he replies cryptically.
Why does it feel like every time I speak to this man he knows far more than he is saying? Alotmore, from the riot of emotions burning in that midnight gaze, the least provocative of which is that strange undercurrent of possessiveness.
And worse, why do I feel so drawn to him?
“Are you compelling me with your magic?” I ask softly.
His dark gaze drops to the cuffs at my wrist. “I could not even if I tried. There are runes on those that prevent another’s influence. Even mine.” I blink in surprise. “The binding runes on those cuffs are spelled to not only reduce your magic but to inhibit it. And whenever your magic threatens the integrity of the cuffs, the dormancy runes force you to sleep.” He exhales. “In truth, I suspect there are runes that tampered with your memory as well, in case you fell into the wrong hands.”
“So it’snota brain injury?” I ask, frowning.
He shakes his head. “Your magic would have healed you by now. That’s what it has been doing all along, slowly but surely.”
Once more, I want to tear the cursed bracers from my body and lay waste to them with every ounce of my being. Powerless anger blooms. My magic, like my body and my mind, ismine,no one else’s.
“We will find a way to get them off,” the king promises, and I startle at the viciousness of his tone as if he’d heard me.
My eyes narrow on him, face heating. “Can you read my thoughts?”
