King of Me (The King Trilogy #3)(43)
Author: Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

“I need to stretch my legs,” I said.

“You have an odd speech for a slave.”

I realized just then that Hagne’s tattoo had been translating for me all along. These people spoke ancient Greek.

I lifted my brows. “Whooptie-fucking-doo. I need to stretch. Unchain me.”

He shook his head. “I am not a fool. You will run, and I cannot risk it. You are worth too much money.”

“To whom?”

His lustful eyes washed over me. “Anyone with a cock.” He then adjusted himself.

Afraid he might start getting some ideas of his own, I blurted out, “I don’t think Draco will appreciate my being taken against my will to become your whore.”

“Draco? The Lawgiver?”

I nodded. “I am his…” I didn’t know what, so I had to be creative. “I’m a friend.”

The man crossed his arms. “Then how did you end up here?”

“Two of his men took me to that market and sold me to pay off their debts. Trust me; Draco has no clue.”

His eyes washed over me. “I think you are lying.”

“Why would I lie when you can take me to him and find out the truth?”

“Very well, if you are telling the truth…” He called for one of the other men, who came running. “Remove her from the cart.”

“Are you letting me go?” I asked while the second man unchained me.

“No. We are going to kill you.”

What the hell? “I don’t understand.”

“Draco may be appointed by the gods, but he is also cursed; if he has touched you, no one will allow you to serve in their homes, let alone want to bed you. You are worthless now.”

In other words, I was King’s tainted sex-goods.

The second man pulled me from the cart by the arm. With my legs half-asleep, I landed with a thump in the dirt.

As he reached down to pick me up, I kicked him in the stomach, and he stumbled back. The first man dragged me by the arms to the fire. I was about half his size, so fighting was about as helpful as singing.

I felt the cold blade of his knife against my throat, and instinctively, I screamed, “Wait! I’ll buy my own freedom.”

They laughed. “With what?”

“My bracelet. The one I’m wearing right here.” I held up my right arm, but was really thinking of a way out. Maybe another curse? Did I have it in me?

“Cheap metal.” The leader nodded at the man who held me. “Kill her.”

“The punishment for murdering a slave is death,” said a deep, dark, and familiar voice I knew like the sound of my own breath.

The leader froze and then dropped to a groveling position in the dirt. “Sir, I meant no disrespect.”

“Stand up, Mia.” I lifted my head and saw King’s magnificent, imposing frame standing in front of me, his hand extended.

As I reached, those black eyes flickered to blue for a split second. I had to wonder if I’d imagined it.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, grateful as hell.

King shook his head. “I don’t know. I felt a pull and then…” His eyes darted to the heads of the men who had their faces buried in the dirt. “We shall speak of this later. Right now, I must punish them.”

I swallowed, wanting to ask what that meant, but before I uttered a word, King smiled and red light burst from his body. The men keeled over, one by one. I resisted screaming, but the other slaves did not.

As more soldiers showed up to investigate, King merely continued gazing into my eyes, and I felt his torment. And his blinding power. Not one man made it within five feet of us before falling to his instant death.

This is real, isn’t it? I’m not dreaming…

Surrounded by a pile of bodies, he drew a deep breath and then gazed up at the starry sky. “No. You are not dreaming. Which is why you should run now, Mia.”

He could hear my thoughts again.

“Why should I run?”

“Because after this moment, I will not be letting you go free, and I know not what I will do to you.”

That was when I realized it didn’t matter what he was or what he said; I was not leaving him. I would rather spend a lifetime trying to fix what I’d done to King than let him suffer like this. It was an odd realization knowing that you can accept someone, the entire someone, and love them unconditionally. Curse and all. I couldn’t undo my love. I could only use it to do everything within my power to make things right.

I cleared my throat. “I’ll take my chances, because I’d rather die here with you than live without you.”

He looked back at me, and his eyes flickered again to a bright blue. “So be it.” King went to unchain each and every slave. At first I thought it to be an act of compassion, but he quickly set me straight. Slaves without an owner were granted their freedom by law. I got the impression, however, that being a free slave in these times was like being coated in bacon grease and sent into the lion’s den. Without money or an owner to protect them, they would be scavenged upon.

“Where will they go?” I asked.

“This is not my concern.”

“Give them money,” I said. I needed to know that he—the good king—was still in there somewhere.

“Why would I do that?” King asked.

“So they can get the hell away from here.”

“I think you mistake me for a man who cares, a man with a soul.”

“No. I have no delusions about who and what you are.” But I hoped for a sign I could still save him.

He laughed. “Yet you ask this of me?”

I shrugged.

“Very well.” King had grabbed one of the soldiers’ horses, a big black beast, and waited for me to mount. “I will send my men here tomorrow and take care of any who have not fled.”

“That’s very kind.” And proof that the compassionate man I loved was still inside.

King glared at me.

“What did I say?”

“I am not kind. Do not mistake my interest in you for such foolish emotions.” He laced his fingers together and held out his hands. “Get on.”

I walked over and looked up at this fiercely muscular, dangerous-as-hell man, wondering what would happen next. “Am I going to wake up from this?”

He frowned. “If you woke, where would you wish to be?”

I had to think about it for a moment. “With you.”

He studied me with a peculiar grin and then boosted me onto the horse. He mounted behind me and urged the horse forward.