Page 31 of The Death King
Khazmuda continued to look elsewhere.
“Khazmuda?”
He’s awake.
“Oh fuck.”
He’s angry.
“No shit.” I stepped away from Khazmuda, walked to the edge of the ramparts, and approached the wall, looking at the sea of torches below, the village outside the castle walls. Everyone slept in their warm beds, free to live their lives as they pleased, in full control of their destiny. A part of me wanted to jump…and that part grew stronger.
The depth of your sadness is endless.
A gust of wind blew through my hair. I turned to look at him over my shoulder.
I’ve felt it before.
My eyes dropped, unable to meet the powerful gaze of the midnight-black dragon.
You won’t always feel this way, little one.
I turned back to the edge and looked at the city as it flickered in the darkness. I’ve always felt this way…and that’ll never change. I felt the cold sting my cheeks and redden the skin, but it was refreshing. For a moment, I was free, standing there because I wanted to, and until the king grabbed me and pulled me away, I would remain free.
He approaches.
I kept my eyes focused on the distance. The door to the keep opened and closed. A moment later, boots thudded against stone. His presence rivaled the size of Khazmuda, with the ferocity of a fiery dragon.
I didn’t have to look at him to know how angry he was.
His footsteps stopped for a moment before they started again, coming closer to me until he stood directly behind me. “I told you what would happen if you tried to escape.”
“Then kill me.” Like you should have done in the first place.
He remained behind me. Silence stretched. Nothing happened.
I suspected he and Khazmuda were speaking with their minds, a long conversation, judging by the fact that I continued to keep my head.
King Talon moved and came beside me, somehow casting a shadow over me in the darkness. “Let’s go.” He stepped toward the castle.
“Where?” I asked, continuing my stare into the darkness.
“Back to bed. Your windows will be boarded in the morning.”
I slowly turned, one eyebrow cocked at his words. “You said you would kill me.”
His back was to me, his cape fluttering in the evening breeze. Before he’d come all the way down here, he’d fully dressed in his uniform and his armor, his heavy sword hooked across his back, as if he expected a fight or needed to keep up appearances even in the middle of the night. “Do you want me to kill you?” He turned back to me, his face as angry as I pictured in my mind. His hair was messy from being pressed into the pillow for the last few hours. His eyes were tired, like they hadn’t had enough time to rejuvenate. His jawline looked harder than steel. “Come. I won’t ask again.”
“You said you would kill me.”
His eyes narrowed in provocation.
“You said you’re a man of your word. Now’s the time to prove it.” I’d officially given up on life. I would always be a prisoner—just with different owners. My father gave up, so why couldn’t I?
He stared at me for several seconds, long seconds that stretched on endlessly. His cape continued to flap behind him in the wind, his posture stiff and straight despite the late hour, and he had the aura of a great king. It was in his stare, in the way he held himself, even in his voice.
I wanted it to end. I wanted the black void to take me…or whatever was beyond this life. “Why won’t you do it?—”
“Because Khazmuda asked me to spare your life.”