King of Me (The King Trilogy #3)(28)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

Nevertheless, even if I wanted to go home, it might not happen. So then what? What would become of my parents?

Jesus, we’re all so screwed.

CHAPTER TEN

I didn’t know the hour, but when my eyes opened, it was because my subconscious had been poking my conscious mind in a petulant, little sister kind of way until I couldn’t ignore it.

I sat up in King’s bed. All but one oil lamp had burnt out, enough to spot King’s well-constructed frame sitting on a chair in the corner, his eyes intense and focused like an animal. All too reminiscent of the man I knew many years from now, his posture—stiff with hands clasped and elbows resting on his knees—meant he was deep in thought and not at all happy.

“You’re back,” I said.

King continued staring with a dark gaze, irate and feral. That was another familiar King move. No, not a good one.

My heart began to gallop inside my chest. “King?”

“What?” he responded coldly.

“Are you okay?”

“What do you think, woman?”

“No.”

“Any manner I choose to examine the puzzle results in death.”

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry,” I said remorsefully.

“I did not ask for your pity.”

“I don’t pity you,” I said calmly, sitting up, “but my wagon is hitched to yours.”

“What the Hades does that mean?”

“My fate is heavily dependent on yours. And I want”—what do I want?—“you. I mean, you to live a happy, full life.”

I looked away for a moment because the gaze of his sky blue eyes was too intense. They made my skin break out in erotic shivers and my body heat with need every single goddamned time.

When I gathered the gumption to look at him again, he stood, crossed the room, stared for one uncomfortable moment, and then sat on the edge of the bed, facing me.

“Have you put a spell on me?” he asked.

“What? No. Why would you say that?”

“I cannot think when I am near you,” he said sorely. “The moment I saw you, I felt an odd joining. As if you and I had lived several lifetimes together.”

His words shocked me. Maybe because I felt the same way.

“And last evening, when I dozed off under the stars,” he said quietly, “I saw you in my dreams, a look of pain in your eyes while you watched me drown in an ocean of red light. Each attempt I made to open my mouth only filled my throat with blood. I awoke tasting it on my tongue.” He looked down at my hand and began absentmindedly tracing a tiny circle over my skin. The sensation of his touch, the intimacy of it, instantly triggered a gnawing, heart- wrenching, carnal hunger. I found this real live version of him mesmerizing. I wanted more. More touching. More of his smell. More of his warmth. But I knew I shouldn’t.

“The red is pain,” I said. “It’s your curse.” I knew this, because I’d seen his light with my gift. It was red—pain—and blue—sorrow—mixed so violently together that it turned into a deep purple. “And it’s a tragedy what happens to you.”

“How is it possible that you fear me, but do not despise me?”

“Because your curse isn’t who you are.” I realized that now. I couldn’t blame this man. I couldn’t hate him. And I couldn’t deny that I felt something profoundly emotional between us.

How the hell that was possible, I didn’t know. But I couldn’t stop it.

His gaze intense and fixed on my eyes, he leaned down and pressed his soft lips to mine. It didn’t feel like a kiss meant to lead anywhere. Instead, it felt more like a test or a validation, to see if what he felt was real, despite the improbability.

It was.

The sensation surged through my lips’ sensitive nerve endings, down my throat, and into my heart. It took my breath away.

He pulled back and stared with those luminescent blue eyes. “I’m sorry for what I have done to you, Mia. I’m sorry for hurting you.”

I hadn’t been expecting that. “It wasn’t you. I mean—it wasn’t your fault.”

He tilted his head. “No. It was not. But you needed to hear that from me. I can see it in your eyes.”

I teared up, but held back from crying. “Thank you.”

King suddenly cleared his throat and threw a giant wall between us. “I have thought this through. All outcomes lead to a civil war and, therefore, a collapse of my people and the destruction of everything I have built. All except one.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I will be gone for several days and leave my guards to watch over you.”

“Where are you going?” I blinked rapidly.

His large chest puffed out with a deep breath. “Callias is on the other side of the island seeing to several disputes between the farmers. I will go and attempt to reason with him, give him a choice to discontinue his pursuit of Hagne—something I doubt he will do.”

“Why do you think that?” I asked, because it was exactly what I had planned to do.

“Callias is stubborn and wild. But I owe it to him to try. And I owe it to myself to die with a clear conscience.”

Die? Clear conscience? “I don’t follow.”

“You say that he challenges me for the throne.”

I nodded.

“And that he fights to keep Hagne.”

I nodded.

“Then to change our fates, I will fight him and allow him to win.”

No. No. Fuck no. Their fights were not boxing matches; they fought to the death.

“You can’t f**king do that!” I protested.

He frowned with a smugness befitting a king. “I do not know this word ‘fuck,’ but I can do anything I damned well choose; I am king.” He stood and left, leaving me utterly speechless. This King wanted to give everything to save the people he loved. Even if it meant his demise.

In that moment, my tears came hard, and my heart fell even harder. Yes, for him. He was that little piece of something strong, noble, and good hiding inside the monster I’d seen from the beginning. And the connection I felt, the deep-seated lust and inexplicable loyalty, had always been for him. This man. Which is why I couldn’t allow him to die.

That’s when my earlier thought hit me again. Maybe, just maybe, I really was there to make everything right. But what options did I have?

Hagne. She was my only option. I could either get her to see reason or kill her. That would almost certainly mean my death, too, because if Hagne’s family was powerful, they would demand justice.