Morgan Rhodes - Rebel Spring

Oh, he was droll. And he knew it, too. There was now just the edge of humor in his gaze that he might ever refer to their forced union as a path to romantic bliss.

An uproariously loud cheer accompanied the end of his speech. His shoulders relaxed a fraction-barely noticeable if she hadn’t been looking. Her gaze moved to the tear in his shirt and the wound beneath that still bled, dripping down his arm to fall to the floor.

Red. The color of Limeros.

The crowd had started to chant something, but for a moment she couldn’t understand.

“What are they saying?” she asked.

Magnus’s jaw tensed.

“A kiss,” said Lord Gareth, who stood farther back in the shadows. As one of the king’s closest friends, he had been invited to join them on the balcony for the speech along with several guards, including Nic. “The crowd wishes for the royal couple to show their love with a kiss.”

Magnus turned his head away from the cheering crowd. “I’m not interested in such irrelevant public displays.”

“Perhaps not. But they would like it anyway.”

“A KISS! A KISS!” the crowd chanted.

“I mean,” their advisor continued wryly, “it would not be the first, would it? What difference would such a small request matter to please this hungry crowd?”

“I don’t know,” Cleo began, sickened by the thought of it. How far was she willing to go to appear agreeable? “Quite honestly, it seems like a bad-”

Magnus took a tight hold of her arm and turned her around. Before she could say another word, he put his hand behind her neck, drew her closer to him, and kissed her.

Every muscle in her body stiffened. It was the sensation of being a bird caught in a hunter’s trap. Her wings screamed out for her to fly away as fast and as far as possible. But he held her firmly in place, his mouth against hers, soft but demanding a response.

She gripped the front of his shirt. It was all too much-she wasn’t sure if she was pushing him away or pulling him closer. Much like diving into deep water, she had no idea which way would find her air to breathe or which way would drag her down deeper into the depths where she would surely drown.

And for a moment, just a moment, she found it didn’t seem to matter.

The warmth of his body against hers on such a cold day, his now-familiar scent of sandalwood, the heat of his mouth against hers. . it all made her head spin, and logic fell away.

When he pulled back, her lips felt as if they’d been set ablaze, a fire that continued to burn as bright as the flames now spreading across her cheeks.

Magnus leaned closer so he could whisper in her ear, his breath hot against her already flushed skin.

“Don’t worry, princess. It was the first and last.”

“Good.” Cleo let go of him and moved off the balcony, past Nic, so fast she stumbled on the hem of her red gown. The sound of the crowd’s cheers quickly became a distant echo in her ears.

KING GAIUS

THE SANCTUARY

The dream finally came after far too many weeks of waiting.

“You said I was immortal,” the king snarled when he sensed Melenia’s presence. He didn’t wait for her reply; he turned and stormed toward her, grasping her shoulders and shaking her. “Why did you lie to me?”

“I didn’t lie.”

He slapped her hard across her face, the sting of it more satisfying that he’d expected. Inflicting pain upon this beautiful golden creature gave him great pleasure.

She pressed her hand to her cheek, but her eyes did not fill with tears as so many others’ would. No weakness crossed her gaze as she steadily held his.

“I did not lie,” she repeated, enunciating every word. “And you will strike me again at your own peril, my king.”

There was an edge of caution in the statement, one only the most foolish would ignore.

He forced himself to calm down. “I was nearly crushed in the Temple of Cleiona during the quake. I tasted the bitterness of my own mortality.”

“But you’re not dead, are you?”

He hadn’t left the palace since that day. With the potential of rebel assassins lurking in every shadow, the threat of natural disasters striking at any given moment, he had become increasingly paranoid. He was far too close to achieving all he’d ever wanted to take any unnecessary risks.

After what had happened at the temple, his confidence had been shaken. He didn’t trust Melenia anymore. There had been a fleeting time when he considered her both an intellectual equal as well as an object of desire. When he believed she would become his next queen, to rule by his side for all eternity. A woman he might be capable of worshipping. A woman he might even be capable of loving.

No more.

Now all he wanted from her were answers.

“When,” he growled. “When do I get my hands on the treasure you’ve promised me for these many months?”

“When the road is complete.”

It was far too long to wait for any tangible proof of what she’d told him. His patience stretched thin and brittle. “How is Lucia integral to finding the Kindred? Will she sense its location with her magic? Does more blood need to be spilled to help her?”

“I already told you, my king. Blood will be spilled. Much of it. Blood is essential to our plan.”

“Tell me more. Tell me everything.”

The hint of a smile dared to curl up the corner of her mouth. “Oh, my king, you are not nearly ready to hear everything .”

“I am!” he insisted.

“Not yet. There are. . sacrifices that must be made. Sacrifices I’m not convinced you’re prepared for.”

“What sacrifices?” He would risk anything, sacrifice anything to get what he wanted. “Tell me!”

She raised an eyebrow. “Sometimes I really don’t know why I bother with you. Perhaps it’s because you amuse me.”

He would be an amusement to no one. “You prophesied that I would rule the universe with the power of an immortal god.”

“I did, didn’t I? Strange thing about prophesies, my king. They aren’t always set in stone. Such a prophecy requires me to assist you in what must be accomplished in the mortal world, as I already have in so many countless ways. Don’t make me regret my decision.”

He wanted to kill her. To crush her between his hands. To watch the life fade from her beautiful blue eyes. To have her beg for mercy with her last breath.

Did an immortal bleed red? This too he’d like to discover.

Instead of admitting to his darkening thoughts, he lowered his head in deference. “Deepest apologies, my queen. You see how stressed I’ve become of late. How anxious I am for progress. It has been a difficult time for us all, especially with my deep concern for my daughter’s well-being. But she’s awake now and out of harm’s way. And her magic is stronger than ever.”

“I’m very glad to hear it.” She walked a slow circle around him. For the first moment in his life, he felt as if a predator was eyeing him for weaknesses.

He’d never felt like prey before.

“I need to journey to the road camp in the Forbidden Mountains to see Xanthus,” he said. “I need to speak with him, for him to show me what he’s doing, to assure me that all is progressing with the road as it should. Messages sent by raven are not enough to reassure me.”

“No, you must not go. You must remain here.”

“Why?”

Her brows drew together, her exquisite face growing very serious. “I do not wish to worry you, but. . if you leave the confines of your palace, your prophecy is forfeit. There are countless dangers and many currently wish you dead. I promised you immortality, my king, but only if you stay secure while our plans solidify.”

He stared at her, shocked, for a long, silent moment. This was precisely what he’d feared. “So I’m to stay here, locked up, like a child that must be protected from potential dangers?”