Page 58 of The Half King
Then the air turned thick with an energy so powerful that Cerise lost touch with her senses. The world fell away. She was on fire with the rush of magic, the raw force filling her veins. Her neck arched, and as she fought to regain focus, she noticed the hyena’s eyes roll back in his massive head. The beast crumpled halfway on top of her, dead. Three more heavy thuds told her the entire pack had fallen.
The wet lapping of Blue’s tongue on her cheek finally nudged her out of the haze. She dragged herself out from beneath the heavy corpse and pushed to her elbows to find the source of the magic that had saved them all. As if there was any doubt. Only one man could wield such power—the same man she hadn’t wanted to come to the mountain, though now she was infinitely grateful that he had.
Father Padron must have heard the howling and ridden ahead of the wagon, because he was alone. Sitting astride his horse, he was the picture of a storybook hero: fierce and triumphant with the moonlight shining in his hair. But when she peered more closely at him, she saw his skin was pale and his eyes glassy.
“Cerise,” he whispered. “Are you…”
“I’m all right,” she told him. “Thank you.”
He gave her a weak smile, and then his chin dipped, his shoulders rounded, and he slid sideways out of his saddle and onto the ground.
14
Cerise awoke the next morning when Blue squirmed out of the sling she had repaired. She reached for him, but her hand landed instead on a warm knee, and she opened her eyes to find Kian sitting cross-legged beside her, scratching Blue’s ears and wearing nothing except for a shawl draped over his lap. He must have just materialized, because the sun was barely aglow behind the mountains.
The king smiled. He glanced at the fingers curled atop his knee and whispered, “Good morning to you, too, my lady of the temple.”
It was lucky she hadn’t lost any blood last night, because all of it seemed to be rushing to her face. She snatched away her hand, which awoke the rest of her muscles. She groaned in pain and rolled onto her back. Her arms and shoulders were tender from the fight, her back and thighs sore from a day in the saddle. And if that wasn’t enough, her stomach felt like a wet fist clenched around a ball of ice.
She was never eating jackrabbit again.
“Seems I missed quite the party,” Kian added, hooking a thumb toward the remains of the titan hyena pack that they had burned last night, along with her bloody clothes. Cerise had saved a single incisor from the alpha male she had battled. She could think of no greater offering of darkness to the Blighted Shrine than a piece of the monster that had tried to kill her.
“You shouldn’t have all the fun in the shadows,” she whispered back. “The rest of us are entitled to a little suffering, too.”
A smile played at his lips as he glanced around the cluttered camp. She followed the direction of his gaze, first to the covered supply wagon, below which slept General Petros. She’d learned that the general had a phobia of birds and refused to sleep in the open because he was afraid they would peck at his face. He had packed tents, but in the aftermath of the attack, the group had been too tired to pitch them. To the left of the wagon slept Daerick and Nero, still positioned back-to-back, daggers in hand. At the rear of the camp stood the horses—six of them now—and in the opposite corner lay Father Padron, unconscious on the blanket pallet Cerise had made for him.
The one person Cerise didn’t see was Delora Champlain. In the chaotic haze of the previous night, she hadn’t given a thought to Delora. But now that she looked around the camp, she realized the king’s courtesan wasn’t there, not even in the covered back of the wagon.
Cerise pushed onto her elbows. “Where is Lady Champlain? How are you able to sit here if—” She cut off as a realization struck her like a blow to the skull. Kian hadn’t appeared at Delora’s bedside because his spirit was drawn to someone else now—toher—and it had been for days. “It was you in my room,” she whispered, turning her wide eyes to him. “I locked my door each night, and you unlocked it when you left.”
Kian offered her an apologetic grin. “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“And yesterday,” she realized. “You gave Blue a treat from the kennel master. I wondered how he got it.”
“I hid a few of them on the balcony,” Kian said. “I couldn’t have him barking at me every morning and startling you awake.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked, a little hurt because she had known there was a fondness between them. The king had made that much clear with his flirtatious words and touches. So why had he concealed the extent of his fondness from her? Was he ashamed of her? Did he wish that he was drawn to someone else?
Kian released a quiet breath and dropped his gaze for a long moment before looking up at her again. There was a new softness in his eyes, a tenderness that warmed the deep, hidden parts of her that she hadn’t known were cold.
“I should have told you,” he said. “Kings are stubborn creatures. But now that my secret is out, you might as well know that I like you, my lady of the temple. I like you very much.”
Cerise felt her cheeks go up in flames. Not only her cheeks—her whole body.
He tried and failed to hide a smile. “I’ve made you uncomfortable.”
“No,” she denied but then quickly admitted, “well, yes…” She didn’t know how to tell him that she liked him, too. That she liked the way she felt around him, and the low timbre of his voice, and his storm-cloud eyes, and even the way her chest erupted into flutters whenever he stood too near.
“Yes, and…?” he prompted.
Her racing mind made it impossible to say the right thing. Her emotions were all in a jumble. He was theking, and she was a lady of the temple. What did it matter how much she cared for him? Her life belonged to the goddess. She could not marry. And until her Claiming Day, she couldn’t even take a lover without risking her chance of gaining the Sight. Her duty had to come first—not just to the goddess but to the king himself, as well as to every cursed firstborn. Only a worshipper of pure faith could earn the sunset runes. She had to stay faithful. She had to stay focused.
She had to stay away from him.
“I’m glad your spirit is drawn to me,” she finally said. “You don’t have to sneak off anymore. We’re friends now, aren’t we?”
Friends. Her fluttering heart called her a liar.
