Chapter 42: Chapter 42: In the Arms of the King

When I wake, Helos isn’t there, and my heart races in panic. I try to sit up, move, but I’m still too weak, and all I can do is lie for a few moments, listening to my heart as it thumps so violently in my chest.

And then I force my body to move. I force myself up and put my feet under me.

But as soon as I step out, my legs collapse and I crumple to the floor with a cry.

Someone comes rushing in—only it’s not Helos, and I panic even more then. I cry out louder, trying to get them off me, though, in truth, I think they’re only trying to help.

As if on cue, Helos walks in and frowns at the scene in front of him.

The man backs away, bowing and mumbling, and Helos dismisses him with a wave of his hand.

“What are you doing out of bed?” he asks, picking me up.

“You weren’t here,” I mumble, feeling the heat rush to my face.

“I had to see to the other ships,” he says as he lays me down and I try not to whimper. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes,” I say.

I’m starving. Really starving. Maybe eating will help get my strength back.

Helos moves toward the door and I grab his arm. “Don’t leave me. Please,” I say.

“I’ll be right back,” he says gently, but I don’t let his arm go.

“Please,” I whisper.

It’s not even that I need Helos right now; it’s just that this ship is filled with soldiers, with men, and after everything that happened with Issar and his soldiers, I don’t trust I’m safe.

“You’re safe,” he states.

I shake my head. “I’m not,” I reply. “Not with all these men, not with your soldiers.”

His eyes flicker for a second as he realizes what I’m saying.

“Give me one moment,” he murmurs before sticking his head around the door and speaking to someone just beyond it.

When he turns back, he’s watching me more carefully, and I drop my gaze, though my cheeks heat all the same.

“Issar is dead,” he says quietly. “He can’t hurt you.”

“It’s not just him,” I state. “There were others.”

“What others?”

I meet his eyes for a second, then look away. “Some of the Council. They were there. They…” I trail off because I don’t even want to say the words.

He growls. “Which men?”

“I don’t know their names. Issar killed them. He butchered them in front of me.”

He lets out a long, low breath before kicking his boots off and climbing into the bed next to me.

“I’ll never let you out of my sight again. I promise,” he says, wrapping his arms around me, and I shut my eyes, feeling myself relax both at his words and his presence.

A knock at the door makes me flinch, but Helos soothes me as a servant peeps in.

“Put it on the side,” he orders.

The man creeps into the room to place the tray down and disappears just as quickly.

Helos walks over to where the food is and carries it back to the bed as if I am so weak that I cannot move to sit at the table.

He forks some food and raises it to my lips, and I smile, letting him feed me. He picks some bread and goes to dip it in the rich sauce, and I shake my head.

“No bread,” I murmur.

“Why not?” he asks, confused.

“That’s all he gave me,” I state. “I don’t think I ever want to eat bread again.”

He tosses the bread like it’s cursed and then forks up more of the stew. “No bread means more space for everything else,” he says, and I can’t help but laugh.

When he’s done, practically force-feeding the last bits, he takes the tray away, and I lie back, watching him for a moment as a thought occurs that makes me gulp.

“If you don’t…,” I begin quietly, but I almost immediately lose my nerve.

I hope he hasn’t heard me.

“Don’t what?” he asks, turning to look at me.

I stare at my hands. I know my face is already bright red, and in a way, I wish I’d kept my stupid mouth shut.

“You’re a king,” I whisper.

“So?” he says.

“Kings are meant to marry chaste women. To be with chaste women, not someone like me,” I state.

“What are you trying to say?” he replies.

“If you don’t want me anymore, I understand,” I say quietly, forcing the words out.

“Kera,” he growls, moving to lie beside me again. “Why would I not want you?”

“Because of Issar, because of what he did. What other men have done too.”

He scowls before slowly starting to stroke my hair.

“You did not choose it. You cannot help what you are, what the gods made you. I’ve been with enough women over the years to fill a castle. Do you think I care how many men you’ve been forced to be with?”

I wince at the words.

“I’d be a hypocrite if I did. Besides, you’re forgetting a few important facts,” he adds.

“What are those?” I ask, finally meeting his eyes.

“I’m a king. I can marry whoever I want, be with whoever I want. I answer to no one,” he states. “I want you, Kera. I don’t care what anyone else says or thinks. I want you. And more importantly, I love you.”

I know the tears are falling again. I can’t stop them. I’m becoming some great blubbering mess.

I roll into him, burying myself against the huge mass of his body, and the safety and the warmth of him surrounds me.

“I want you to be my queen,” he says. “I want you to sit beside me, to be my wife, to be the mother of my children…”

I gulp, looking up at him. He’s so serious right now.

“I don’t want to replace Zandar’s mother.”

He smiles, shaking his head. “You’re not. But she’s gone and he needs a woman’s influence. He needs siblings too. More of a family than he has right now.”

I raise an eyebrow as my lips quirk. “So, I’m just the unfortunate woman you’ve decided who fits the bill for providing this family then?”

He lets out a chuckle. “Perhaps you are, Kera. But you have to admit. I’ve gone to a lot of trouble to make you mine.”

“Who says I’m yours?” I tease.

He grins more before kissing me lightly on the forehead. “You are mine just as I am yours. And when we get home, I’ll prove how true that statement is.”