53. Crowned
~ YILAN ~
It was a surreal day. I swung wildly between thrilled triumph, and near-despair.
After Melek’s speech, the men in the room did settle down and focus. And even though there was a great deal of argument—particularly about the manner in which I’d enter the Nephilim camp—the petty shots and growled threats stopped.
The day progressed and conversation turned to logistics. Slowly attitudes eased as they each recognized the intelligence and strength in each other.
In fact, by late afternoon, the only overt hostility at the table remained between Diadre and Jann. Jhonas, Diadre’s brother, was unimpressed with both of them. I caught him pulling her aside when we broke for a meal, and I knew he’d be cautioning her about taunting or challenging the male.
I also knew she wouldn’t stop.
Diadre hated nothing more than a man who couldn’t see past her femaleness to her achievements. I knew Jann had just been flirting because that’s what he did. I also knew Diadre wouldn’t care.
I made a mental note to speak with her about it later, in private.
I needed those two to get along. Diadre was my dearest companion, and her insight into battle and strategy were unique—because she looked at the problems with a feminine mind.
I planned to bring her with us into the Nephilim since, conveniently, she could also be presented as a prize and play a similar role.
But Melek was just as close to Jann as I was to Diadre.
We couldn’t have them causing issues when all of us were surrounded by those who’d take advantage of any weakness.
We remained at the lodge and in that room negotiating, planning, identifying risks and creating strategies to meet them until the dinner hour.
The later the day grew, the more my nerves increased, because while Melek had gone to get the Neph and bring them here this morning, I’d made important arrangements without his knowledge.
I knew he was hoping we’d all forgotten about his coronation, but we hadn’t. I hadn’t.
It had occurred to me that morning that if we were crowning him in a quiet ceremony with only the Council present, it would be a moving and unifying moment for the Neph, as well. Let them see that we claimed Melek as ours, too. That we saw his strength and knew he’d been appointed by God.
I just prayed he wouldn’t be irate with me for springing it on him unawares.
When we had finished the evening meal and the servants left, we reviewed the plans and decisions we’d made, and agreed on who would be responsible for each preparation task.
Then the room went quiet as the Nephilim assumed we were done.
I took a deep breath. “Melek,” I said quietly, putting my hand on his arm. “There is one more thing we have to do today—and it’s important that your kin are here to witness it,” I said breathlessly.
I was surprised by how nervous I felt.
Once Melek was crowned, I was no longer the primary ruler of the Shadekin.
Despite knowing my entire life that this day would come—and being certain Melek was the man for the job—my chest constricted.
Melek frowned as Turo and Hughes both rose from their seats and marched to a trunk in the corner that was draped in a royal crest.
His eyes followed them, but I squeezed his arm and brought his attention back to me.
“There’s no time to plan an event with the people—not before we have to leave.
But under these circumstances, the Council can Coronate you, and inform the people.
And when we return victorious, there will be a great celebration.
Are you… are you willing to take the vows now?
” I breathed, staring into his shocked ey es.
“I thought it would be the first step in unifying our people for your brothers to see us acknowledge you as King.”
Melek’s eyes went wide. He looked back over to where Turo and Hughes were lifting the crown from its nest in the trunk. Turo draped the sash over his free arm while Hughes held a horn in his free hand. Then both men turned solemnly to look at Melek.
“I am… yes,” he said quietly, licking his lips. “Yes,” he repeated with an edge of determination in his tone.
I squeezed his arm and rose to my feet, urging him to stand and push his chair back, my heart both dancing and dropping as the room went silent, then Turo tipped his head back and called our people to acknowledge their King.
~ MELEK ~
I was having trouble breathing.
I’d forgotten about the coronation. I’d been so focused on the plan and fighting my fears for Yilan, that I hadn’t even thought about it since we’d arrived here.
But now I stood at the head of this table of powerful and influential people and watched, stunned, as Turo raised his voice until it echoed in the rafters above, calling for every man, woman, and child of the Shadekin to lift their eyes and their prayers because their King had been found.
Hughes lifted the horn in his hand and blew it so loudly, my ears rang.
Everyone at the table stood—the Nephilim slightly slower, following the examples of the Shadekin—as the two men walked slowly, stiffly, formally towards me, circling the table, each with a hand under the crown, each calling together for the eyes of God to be on this moment, and on this man.
Me.
My breathing was shallow and my heart thudding in my chest as the men walked to Yilan who was smiling, though her lips trembled.
Words were exchanged between them. My pulse throbbed in my ears.
Then Yilan took the crown from the two men, lifted it to her chest, and turned to face me .
The room went silent as our eyes locked and she smiled at me. A bright, beaming smile that lifted my heart and reminded me why I was here.
“Melek Handras, I see you. As Queen of the Shadekin, appointed at birth by the Creator, it is my duty and honor to find the King for my people. And I name you, Melek Handras, as that man. Do you accept me as mate? Do you recognize our bond? Do you hear the call of God?”
I blinked and sucked in a breath. “I do,” I said as loudly and clearly as I was able, which wasn’t much.
Tears welled in her eyes and her smile stretched broader.
“Among our people there are three traits celebrated in a ruler: Humility, strength, and integrity. I call the people to see your strength. I call the people to know that I have witnessed your integrity. I claim you, Melek Handras. And as Queen, I ask you to humble yourself and kneel to receive your crown.”
The weight of the moment truly hit me then. The air grew thin and I trembled as I lowered myself to the floor, one knee bent, and bowed my head in front of her.
Then my mate was in my mind, showing me an image of myself lifting my head and meeting her eyes—and her smile.
I did as she’d shown me and raised my chin to find her beaming, her eyes shining.
“Melek Handras, General of the Nephilim, Conqueror of nations, carrying the blood of angels in his veins, I name you mate . I name you strength . I name you King.”
She stepped forward then and placed the crown on my head, working to balance the heavy crown carefully until she found the right position so that it slid almost to my ears and remained.
The weight of it was a shock, a pressure on my neck that screamed at me.
Leader.
Ruler.
King.
It was so much larger, heavier than simple gold and jewels. It was a lifetime of burden, but also power.
I had always told my men before promotion that with empowerment came responsibility. That authority without intention was selfish ambition. That without a desire to help others, power became a weapon against the very people you sought to increase .
All those words came rushing back to me as Yilan urged me to my feet, took my hand and turned me to face the others as she raised her voice in a cry similar to Turo’s earlier.
“People of the Shade, family of God, I present to you: Melek Handras, my mate, and your King.”
Every single person in the room—even the Nephilim—bowed their heads and knelt to acknowledge me.
Including my mate.
It stole my breath when she dropped my hand, gathered her skirts, and knelt on the cold stone, leading the call to the others.
I stood there, speechless, as they all debased themselves in front of me.
Panic fluttered in my chest.
What were they thinking? Me? A King?
But then I blinked as they finally raised their heads and Yilan beamed at me again, tears streaming down her cheeks.
Everyone rose to their feet, cheering. A round of champagne had been left by the servants and Diadre and Jhonas rushed to gather glasses and pass them to everyone.
Then they toasted me. Their King.
My head spun and my breath wanted to stop. The weight of that title bearing down and tightening the muscles in my neck.
It should not be this easy. Such a momentous appointment shouldn’t be made in minutes. A nation shouldn’t be handed into a man’s care with mere words!
“Speech! Speech!” someone called and they all turned to face me.
I wanted to shake my head, but I knew this moment needed leadership.
It needed inspiration. And it was up to me to provide it.
But I was at a loss. This was no cluster of low-born soldiers needing a reason to fight with honor.
I faced a room of former adversaries and rivals, all of them powerful in their own right, yet seeking inspiration to risk so much more than just their lives.
Yilan slipped her hand to my elbow and smiled up at me. “Just tell them what you want for them. Show them your heart,” she whispered.
I swallowed hard before nodding and raising my voice to keep it strong.
“Thank you. I am… humbled.” A rumble of approval rippled through the room as I cleared my throat.
“I am a warrior. I have always been fighter. I did not foresee this part of God’s plan for me.
Bu t I trust that He brings it knowing that I am more accustomed to using spears than decrees. Two spears, as it happens.”
The men chuckled. I wished I was joking.
“I take this responsibility gravely. What I do not know, I will commit to learn. Where I am weak, I will appoint others to aid me whose strengths make up for my lack. And I will forever protect and listen to my mate whose heart is so deeply committed to her people. Our people.”
I swallowed hard, wishing there was more sound in the room than just my voice.
“Thank you for your trust. I will do everything in my power never to break it,” I ended finally.
Please, God… help.
Yilan led a round of applause which made me want to sink into the floor, but after the tension in the room dissipated like steam in cold air.
Chatter started, some of my brothers looking like they might approach, Yilan tugged at my arm. I leaned down when she beckoned so she could whisper in my ear.
“You look very handsome in a crown,” she breathed, then nipped my earlobe.
I was still so tense, I startled, which made her giggle.
The hour that followed was touching—and horrifying. Even Turo approached to congratulate me and bowed low like he did to Yilan in public. But finally, with darkness falling, everyone prepared to leave.
An hour later, finally back at the Palace, the eyes of every guard and servant we passed in the halls went round when they saw the crown—with Yilan walking at my side, her hand in my elbow. I had to make myself acknowledge the bows and curtseys, muttering my thanks, which made Yilan laugh.
“You can just nod. They know it’s your due. You don’t have to thank them for it.” She was practically skipping at my side.
Finally, we were back at the Royal suite and I sighed with relief to be out from under the eyes of anyone except Yilan as she trotted ahead of me into the room, lighting lamps and candles.
I stood at the center of the chamber suddenly reminded that this was now ours .
This was the Queen’s suite—now the King’s.
I shook my head in disbelief.
While I stood there, dumbfounded, Yilan hurried back to stand between my feet and reached for the buttons at my neck .
I was surprised by the gleam in her eye—and a little uneasy. I was exhausted and my mind was so full. I wanted to love her, but wasn’t sure Iwas ready.
Then she reached the buttons at the bottom of my shirt and started on my belt. When she looked up at me through her lashes and her eyes were shining, my cock twitched. Thank God.
Breath beginning to quicken as she tugged at my buckle, I reached up to grab the crown and started to pull it off.
“Oh, no you don’t!” Yilan said, one hand shooting up to catch my wrist, stopping me from removing it.
“What?” I asked. “Surely they don’t expect me to sleep in the thing?”
Yilan laughed and shook her head. “No, not at all. We only wear crowns for formal events.”
I frowned as she gave me a look, then went back to the buttons on my leathers and started popping them free.
“Yilan, why did you—?”
“Because,” she said breathlessly. “You’re mine. You’re mine, and you’re King.” She tugged my shirt apart, then started pushing it off my shoulders. “I’m going to serve you, Melek,” she said breathlessly as she looked back up at me, a predatory grin on her face. “And the crown stays on.”