Chapter Twenty #2
As I straighten myself, the pull in my chest makes itself known. It calls me south, toward the group. Ryc must be among them, and if he’s there, Lilith is somewhere in there too.
They canter down the center of the street as the crowd cheers, roughly two blocks away, and I can’t help but stare at the couple. The royal couple, no less. And out here, in the bright sun, there’s nowhere for me to hide.
Dipping into the doorway, I continue to watch, peering around the door frame, doing my best to keep mostly hidden.
I should hide.
I should turn and leave and not look back.
I shouldn’t risk being spotted by the Sovereign King, or his guard, or Lilith, or Ryc, or anyone else who may be in that processional.
But I can’t move. The curiosity of seeing the face of the king I’ve been told to avoid eats at me.
At least here, I’m not standing in full sun high above the rest of the crowd.
An arm shoots up over a female’s head in a practiced wave, the king’s betrothed—right?
I think I remember Cora mentioning something about him being engaged to some fae from Vis.
She’s dressed in luxurious riding gear of brown leathers and deep green dyed fabrics.
Truly a stunning portrait upon her white horse.
She’s everything I would picture when thinking of a fae queen.
A small gold circlet rests upon her dark chestnut curls.
I can’t deny it. The future Sovereign Queen of Erus is beautiful.
I shouldn’t have expected any less.
All living creatures appear to be beautiful.
But I don’t care about her. She’s not the supposed threat.
It’s the male beside her.
Swinging my eyes left, he sits atop a black horse, dressed entirely in black, a midnight cloak billows gently behind him.
He seems handsome enough—strong jaw, midnight black hair that falls in windswept waves to his shoulders.
He’s staring at the crowd to his right, giving them a firm bow of his head.
He’s not wearing a circlet.
Why?
My eyes dart back to the female. She is all sunshine and vibrant, and he is a dark cloud. He shifts, facing forward—
Gold eyes meet mine in less than a heartbeat.
Instantly my mind is flooded with images from three centuries ago.
Unable to breathe, the wooden door frame threatens to splinter under my grip as my mouth goes bone dry.
It’s him.
The male who saw me through the veil.
The mortal who insisted a Death Bringer belonged beside him.
Screaming thoughts tear through my mind, but I cannot move.
I cannot breathe.
I cannot blink.
Judging by the way he holds my stare, he knows exactly who and what I am. My innate screams, blazing itself through my veins, and shadows begin to ebb onto the balcony. As they creep closer to the edge, I suck in a sharp breath, forcing my innate to listen and they vanish.
The Sovereign King leans to his right, his eyes not leaving mine. He says something to the guard beside him. A small smile plays at his lips as he straightens himself, adjusting the clasp of his cloak—the glint of silver on his cuff catches, shining in the sun.
The guard kicks his horse into a dash, and my mind empties as panic erupts in my veins. Whirling on my heels, I sprint into the shop, bottles rattling as I blow by.
“Eve!” I shout, not caring who I disrupt as I storm down the narrow stairs. “Eve, we have to go!”
“Ves?” The panic in her voice matches mine, her eyes wide and wild as she and Cora turn from their place at the counter.
“The Sovereign King—”
The shop door swings open and the royal guard steps inside, ducking his head under the door frame. His lavender eyes meet mine.
He’s sent the Captain of the Guard.
“My lady, the Sovereign King—”
Fueled by panic, fear, and disbelief, I break into a sprint toward the counter. In a fluid motion I swing myself over, the shop attendant shrieking with surprise, backing away as bottles crash onto the floor.
Without care, I bolt through the door behind the counter. Cora’s frantic voice trails after me as I dash through an overloaded storeroom, leaping over boxes and chairs.
“Ves, run!” Eve shouts, fueling my feet faster.
Shoving a wheeled cart aside, I throw myself through the rear exit and stumble onto the street. Immediately, dozens of faces whip in my direction.
Heart beating wildly in my chest, I scramble to dash left, people backpedal, leap, and quick-step aside to get out of the way.
“Wait!” a booming male voice rings behind me.
Waiting is the last thing I’m going to do.
My innate shimmers violently, reminding me I can ferry to escape.
But where would I go?
Surely the temple will be the first place he will send his guard.
The sound of clattering armor behind me fuels my feet and legs to move faster, pounding against the hard cobblestone beneath. With a warning shout, I shoulder my way through a congregation of humans listening to a minstrel, earning myself several roars and hollers with my abrupt intrusion.
Shoving through them, I pitch right, down a narrow alley.
Oh gods, Artemise…
She’s going to be pissed.
“Stop!” the guard shouts behind me, his voice resonating between the stone walls.
I’m not doing that either.
As my breathing becomes ragged, I burst through the other end of the alley, earning myself even more incredulous stares and cries. Hurling myself right, I cross the street into yet another alley.
I could go to The Lioness.
Camille seems trustworthy enough. But it’s a risk.
At this point, I’ve no other options.
I can’t go back to the temple. Not yet.
I have to lose this guard first.
Willing strength into my legs, I press harder.
As the end of the alley comes into view, it becomes clear a dense crowd has filled the street—one I won’t be able to weave through without losing the traction I’ve gained.
Near the end of the alley, on the right, a series of large crates line against the wall—creating a makeshift staircase.
Pitching myself toward them, I leap and let my shadows take me.
Falling to my hands and knees, gasping for breath, I glance around.
A flat rooftop, surrounded by a stone parapet.
Perfect, hidden from view.
Judging by the proximity of the shouts, I’m not far from the alley I’d been racing through. Perhaps a couple streets over. My innate vibrates contentedly, as if it knows it did a good job. With a weak laugh, I collapse onto my back. I stare at the sky, chest heaving.
This is not how I’d intended for today to go.
Today truly needs to end.
The gods damned Sovereign King being the male I met centuries ago, the one who haunts my dreams, isn’t what I’d expected either.
Fuck.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!
Gods damn Nektos and all eight of her legs. I’m inclined to break a couple of them should I ever meet her.
My hands find my brow, pushing my hair out of my face, bracing my head as I release a long, long breath. I can’t wander the streets now, too many people—too many witnesses. My arms fall to the roof in exasperation and I sigh again.
I never want to do this again.
Slipping a hand into my pocket, the ring of glamouring slips onto my little finger, and the cool sensation of old magic washes over me. Reaching with my other hand, I pull a few tendrils of my hair down to inspect.
Jet black.
I laugh, a short punctuated sound, almost maniacal.
Find me now, Sovereign King.