His eyes roamed my body from head to toe, then back again, his gaze catching on the womanly curves that had filled out since he’d seen me last.
“Thaddeus,” I said, his attention kicking back up. He didn’t say a word as he scrutinized me. Mercifully, hesnapped his fingers, and Sidrick fell to his hands and knees, coughing. Artton visibly shook, torn between going to his best friend, fighting, and protecting me. We both knew he wouldn’t leave my side—as was his sworn duty. We also knew we were at the king’s mercy—which is why when the king took a step toward me, the only thing either of us could do was brace ourselves for what came next.
Chapter 51
Costly Truths
Artton’s rage was palpable as Thaddeus closed the distance between us, his familiar earthy scent enveloping me from a pace away—and I hated how that one detail remained me that there was no waking up from this. No, this was real. I’d forgotten he smelled like home and a part of me wondered if that was spellcraft too.
Reaching a hand up to me as if to caress my face, I held my breath, knowing the summer commanders would pay if I didn’t play nice. Just before the touch landed, Artton’s large hand wrapped around the king’s wrist and held tight.
Thaddeus looked down at the contact, then up with a smirk. “You’ll mind your place before I mind it for you.”
The commander shifted his weight forward, his grip now punishing. “You’ll keep your fucken hands off of her,” Artton snarled.
“Or what?” he scoffed. “In case you haven’t realized, Com-man-der,” he said, the honorific dripping in mockery, “you’re not in a position to make demands—of any kind.”
Faster than Thaddeus could react, Artton gripped him by the throat, thumb and forefinger digging into the hollows of the vulnerablejuncture that could drop a man with enough pressure—even a king.
I watched wide-eyed as the two stared each other down.
“I said,” Artton all but growled, “hands off.”
The sides of Thaddeus’ lips tugged up with amusement. He leaned into the commander despite the grip tightening, and lowered his voice. “I knew she’d fuck anyone who looked at her.”
Wait? What?
Artton’s nostrils flared, and while I’d been on the other side of his anger, I’d never seen him like this. Letting go of the king’s wrist, he drew his arm back, fist closed. Thaddeus shot his hand out and pressed his thumb into the fae’s shoulder, hard.
The commander gasped as the fabric of his shirt blooming with marbled black-and-crimson blood.
“Artton!” I cried out and reached for him as he stumbled back like he’d been struck with an arrow.Fuck. An arrow!Hadn’t Kaelun said that’s how they captured him in the first place? That the poisoned weapon had stolen his magic? Stars above, he’d been healing Sidrick while still being injured himself.
Stupid male. Stupid fucken male.
I watched in horror as his face contorted with pain, and he tripped over his own heels, stumbling backward. Firm hands gripped around my arms as I lunged to catch him, and I flung them off, sliding to the ground just in time to stop Artton’s head from crashing against the unforgiving ground.
From the corner of my eye, Thaddeus crossed his arms.
I shot him a warning glance, only to find him looking down his nose at me with an amused glint in his eyes. Gods, everything was a game to this man, and he didn’t care what happened to the pieces on the board.
Ignoring him, I shifted my focus. “Artton, talk to me,” I said in a panic.
His eyes were squeezed tight, and he held a hand to his wound.Most concerning were his ragged breaths and the damn bleeding. “I’m fine,” he gritted out.
“Like hells you are, you stupid male.”
The corner of his mouth quirked up the tiniest fraction before a grimace stole it.
Frantically, I looked around the cell like an idiot for something to staunch the wound with.
“Problem?” Thaddeus taunted as if this was the best entertainment he could ask for, and it took every ounce of control I had to ignore him and focus on the problem.
Knowing there was no fucken way I was stripping out of my leathers to offer up my shirt, I stood up on my knees, leaning over Artton’s chest. “Remove your hand,” I ordered. His eyes fluttered open just enough to let me know what he thought of that idea. “Now.”
He did as I asked with a grunt, and a fresh wave of blood seeped into his shirt.
“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath. “This is going to hurt.” Without warning or mercy, I grabbed at the neck of his shirt and tore it open, revealing the peaks and valleys of his sun-kissed skin below. That was the easy part. Gingerly, I pulled the garment over to the right, revealing the wound. I hissed when I saw the full extent of what the arrow had done. Prodding around it with my fingers, Artton smacked the obsidian ground hard with his other hand to stop himself from moving.
