Page 51 of Luna Rising

No one touched me, yet it felt like invisible hands yanked my jaws apart. Charlie collapsed on top of me with a content sigh. His blood coated my tongue and throat, tasting all wrong because he wasn’t Ewan. My stomach roiled. I was too weak to shove Charlie off me. When his weight did life, Ewan’s murderous expression filled my hazy vision. I whimpered, terrified of him at that moment.

I curled into a ball on my side, stomach gurgling like the first night I got drunk and puked on Zach’s shoes. Which was exactly what happened, except it was Charlie’s blood not fae fire whiskey, and it went all over my coffee table and Ewan’s jeans. Luckily, I lost consciousness before my brain registered embarrassment.

A Dream of Thrones

The dream started with me standing in front of a set of doors carved with the royal family’s crest. Two guards in full decorative regalia were on either side of the entrance to King Orrin’s private chambers. Butterflies flapped their insistent wings in my stomach as my pulse pounded in my ears. I dreaded the forthcoming conversation yet knew there was no choice. The king had summoned me.

He was seated behind his big dark wooden desk when I entered, writing on a piece of parchment paper with a feather quill. He beckoned me forward without looking up from his task.

“Sit, Zosia.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Between the simple clothes I wore and the king’s gruff demeanor, I assumed the memory was from sometime during the games.

I waited out the tense silence, staring down at my hands clasped in my lap and trying not to panic. Finally, the king returned his quill to the inkwell, set aside the parchment to dry, and turned his attention to me.

“My son has informed me that he wishes for you to be his mate.” The king leveled me with a pointed stare. “Should you be one of our winners, of course.”

I gulped but didn’t reply, not sure of the appropriate response in this situation.

“I thought I made myself clear, Zosia. Kings do not ask twice, child. You were supposed to stop these interludes with my son.”

“I apologize, Your Majesty. I spoke with Stavros as you asked. The prince wasn’t… accepting of my refusal.” I had tried to tell him it was over like the king wanted, but Stavros could be very convincing and, well, I was in love with him.

The king leaned against the cushions of his high-backed chair and appraised me. “My son does not know what is good for him. You, however, do. You, Zosia, are well aware of the ramifications of your actions, which extend beyond the games.”

It was a threat disguised as polite conversation, and the part of me that was Zara wanted to dive across the desk and make King Orrin understand the ramifications of his actions.

“Why, Zosia, have you disobeyed my orders? Why have you continued to allow him the rites and privileges of a husband?”

My teeth welded shut behind pursed lips, anger and humiliation burning in my chest.

“Answer me, child!” King Orrin roared so loudly the guards outside must have heard him.

“I love him.” My head snapped up, our eyes meeting across the desk. “I love your son.”

I expected the king to laugh, to mock my silly, girlish notions, to tell me that my feelings were a crush and nothing more, to say that I wasn’t good enough for his son. These were all things I had told myself, fears I had confessed to no one besides Diana. Not even Stavros.

“Has my son confessed his love for you?” The question was genuine, yet still felt like a slap to the face.

“No, not in so many words,” I said, hating the king for forcing me to make such an admission.

Silence, long and fraught, stretched between us. I should have lowered my gaze out of deference to our monarch, but I held his gaze without shame. My love for Stavros burned brighter than any star in the sky. When we were together, it felt like nothing could hurt me. It felt right, despite those who said it was wrong.

“Have you told the prince of your feelings?”

“Not in so many words,” I said again, which was true. Though giving him my virginity and risking my reputation was a declaration of love that I knew Stavros appreciated.

The king folded his hands over his belly. “I am going to speak plainly, Zosia, because I need you to understand the harm of your relationship with my son. I don’t prefer Illiana to you. If you want the truth, I find her quite insufferable. Her most redeeming quality is that she comes from a good family. Pretty lies fall from her lips every time she opens them. She is cunning and backstabbing and completely infatuated with the prince.”

Was it wrong that the king’s speech actually made me feel better?

He pushed his chair back, legs scrapping the ground, and rose to his full height. Usually, this was an invitation to leave his presence, but King Orrin made no indication that he wanted me out of his chambers. On the contrary. He seemed to want to keep me there until he convinced me to break things off with Stavros.

“Many of Iliana’s qualities will serve her well in her future role, as will many of yours, Zosia. Throughout the games, you have shown you are resourceful, loyal, skilled, and methodical.” He’d begun to pace his chambers, and I turned in my seat to follow him with my eyes. “I am genuinely impressed and pleased with your performance.”

I couldn’t help it; I puffed up my chest as it filled me with pride. King Orrin didn’t hand out compliments on a whim or really at all. This was a big deal.

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