King of Me (The King Trilogy #3)(39)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

“What else did he tell you?”

Callias rubbed his unshaven jaw. “That he would move the heavens and earth to be with you.”

I suddenly felt my despair bubbling to the surface. I was going to lose it.

Callias noticed. He quickly stood and held out his hand. “Let us find wine and celebrate my final hours in this body.”

“You’re really not afraid to die?” I said in a quiet voice.

“Of course not. What is there to fear?”

“Everything.” Like being cursed to walk the earth forever or staying dead and not coming back at all. Christ, King. Where are you? I need you.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

“Are you sure the things in Draco’s chamber are safe?” I asked, growing nervous about leaving the Artifact for such a long time.

Callias had procured a few “bottles” (ceramic jars, really) of wine and ordered the servants to build a fire on the private beach below the palace where we now sat.

“The guards may secretly wish to take my head,” he said, “but they dare not defile my brother’s belongings.”

“Good, because I bound your brother’s curse to a rock and hid it in his room.”

He jerked his head in shock.

“Without it,” I said, “the curse can’t be undone. And if you ask me why, I couldn’t explain it. I only know that it’s the most valuable thing I own.”

“Do you wish me to retrieve it?” he asked.

Considering that Callias intended on getting smashed tonight, not such a good idea. Also, there was a shocking lack of personal, portable storage in this age, i.e., no pockets. It was too easy to lose it.

“No. Just as long as you are absolutely sure no one will touch it.” Damn. What I wouldn’t give for a fanny sack right now.

“I assure you.” He smiled, and I almost swooned. I couldn’t help but look at Callias and fantasize he was King with those dark features, olive skin, and light eyes.

His happy expression melted away. He noticed me staring at his face, longing for his brother. “If only I were so lucky,” he said.

I frowned with a smile, feeling awkward. I think he sensed it because he quickly offered a comfort-branch: “But of course, I only view women as objects of pleasure—nothing more. I sense this would not sit well with you.”

I laughed. “No.”

“Then let us be friends. Even if for only one night.”

My smile disappeared. It was hard thinking about an exact replica of the man I loved being murdered tomorrow.

But that’s not your choice, is it?

No. It’s not.

Callias cleared his throat. “Forgive me. I did not wish to sour the evening.”

“Not ruined.” I looked into his eyes. “I lost my brother recently, and now Draco and—I just wish everything was different. Even for you.”

He jerked his head and offered a sad little smile, but didn’t say anything.

Changing subjects and not wanting to be a downer, I asked Callias more about his brother, about him, his parents, and his people. We drank wine—yes, full strength—oh my—and gazed at the stars. There were several moments when I had to admit that the wine made my head foggy and my body yearn to reach over and kiss Callias, to hold him and smell him. Not because I wanted him, but because I wanted King so badly it hurt. It would be easy to lie to myself for a few moments and pretend. Especially because I had no clue how long it would take for King to build the strength to show up. If he showed up.

Instead, I settled for lying on the beach, gazing up at the dark sky filled with millions of twinkling stars, imagining King there with us, watching and laughing along. I imagined him being grateful that I’d stayed at Callias’s side during his last night on earth.

After a while, the fire died down, and Callias and I were too drunk to move. I closed my eyes and sighed, grateful for the chance to get to know this person who was a part of King’s life.

Callias reached out and grabbed my hand. “If I ever get the chance to love in my next life, I hope it is a woman like you, Mia.”

I didn’t know what to say other than, “Thank you. I hope you do get the chance.” But with someone more extraverted, I thought. He was a man who needed a fun-loving, vibrant woman without any baggage.

I closed my eyes and allowed myself to drift off, thinking of King, of my future, and of Callias finding his own peace.

“Cut the bitch’s throat!” were the words that jolted me from an alcohol-induced sleep in the middle of the night.

“No!” I heard Callias cry out. “You tempt the fury of the gods if you touch her! She is a Seer.”

Whoever had me by the throat dropped me in the sand like a cockroach-infested sack of shit.

“You want me, not her,” Callias grunted, the men shoving him face down in the sand.

“Don’t!” I yelled, getting to my knees. “He’s the king!”

The man who had him by the neck grinned proudly. “Why do you think we are here?”

Callias didn’t struggle, but instead asked them to take his head swiftly.

Kneeling on the other side of the fire, I stared in utter horror. How many people did I have to watch die?

“Please,” I begged, my head still saturated with wine. “Don’t kill him. Draco wouldn’t have wanted you to do this!”

The man who’d been holding me reached down and slapped me hard. I felt the blunt pain in my nose and warm blood trickle from my nostril.

“You piece of shit.” I glared up and felt the breath leave my lungs. “Sama?”

Motherfucking Spiros. The people who had sworn to protect the king.

I looked at Sama and felt the earth move beneath me, remembering what the old Seer woman had told me. All I had to do was use my anger and wish it. Nothing more.

I need an anchor.

I reached down and grabbed a handful of sand. “If you won’t honor your oath to the king, then I will make you.”

Sama’s face, illuminated by the waning fire, turned ghostly white. “No. You cannot do this.”

“Oh, but I can,” I panted. And it felt so, so good. “You, your children, and every human being who holds a drop of your Spiro blood will loyally serve the king until he finds peace. You will protect him with your own flesh and place his life and happiness above your own.” The power inside felt intense, like a heat raging through my veins.

“Mia, no! I want to die!” roared Callias while being held by two extremely confused-looking men, one with a knife to his throat.