Page 21 of The Death King

“Why would your family leave behind their home to seek life in a different village?—”

“Both of my parents died in your siege,” I snapped. “So I left on my own. A family took me in, and then your men took me away to serve in the desert. That’s my whole life story. Are we finished?”

A painful silence ensued, one that was heavy with tension and suppressed rage. He still hadn’t blinked, his body clearly having different needs than others if he could maintain eye contact like that. “We’ll be finished when you tell me the truth.”

“I have told you the truth?—”

“Lies,” he snapped. “What’s your name?”

I thought quick on my feet. “Slave. That’s what your men called me?—”

“You think I won’t kill you?” He moved toward me, a single step crossing an incredible distance. He was in my face in just a second, his neck craned down for him to invade my space, to force the smell of pine and sandalwood to rush into my nostrils. “I’ll snap that pretty neck without a second thought.”

I instinctively stepped back, trying to get out of his reach before he could grab my neck.

But he didn’t pursue me again. He remained in front of the couch, staring me down with that blood lust in his eyes. He didn’t have his sword or his armor, so he was as vulnerable as he could possibly be, but I knew my speed couldn’t match his strength. His arms were like tree trunks, and mine were like twigs.

When he spoke again, his voice was a little more controlled. “Tell me.”

“No.”

His eyes narrowed. “Then you do have something to hide.”

“I’ve been bossed around the last seven years. My life has never been my own?—”

“You expect me to feel bad for you?” he snapped. “You think I’ll bleed tears for you? I couldn’t care less what you’ve suffered. Just as I don’t expect you to care what I’ve suffered. Now, answer me.”

I didn’t know what to do. I was cornered by a heartless dictator who didn’t seem to care about anyone or anything. “You wouldn’t have brought me here and provided me these beautiful accommodations if I weren’t valuable?—”

He moved fast, so fast that I didn’t have the chance to react and back up. He came at me, grabbed me by the neck, and then shoved me hard against the wall.

My back hit the solid surface, and the air left my lungs. I almost slipped down to the floor in shock.

“Valuable?” He grabbed me by the neck again and squeezed, cutting off my air supply as he pinned me in place. He dipped his head closer to me, dark eyes boring into mine with magnetic intensity. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “You think you’re valuable?”

When I grew desperate for air, I tried to wiggle free, to slam my elbow down on his forearm to break his grip.

He took the hits without a flinch, immune to pain, his vicious concentration unbearable.

I felt myself start to black out, to drift off.

He finally released me and stepped away, turning his back to me. “I grow tired of this game.” He turned slightly to the fireplace, the flames burning low because I’d started the fire hours ago. “Tell me your name. Or I’ll send a scout back to the Arid Sands, and the heartbroken general can tell me.”

I gasped for a few seconds to recover my breath, but I quickly stifled it because I didn’t want to look weak. I stared at his muscular back with rage, wanting to shove him into the fire and watch him burn. “Calista.”

That name didn’t seem to register because he had no reaction to it.

I moved forward quietly, staying out of his peripheral as I crept closer. What would I do once I got there? I didn’t know. But the urge to kill him swept through me. I wanted to kill General Titan, but somehow, I wanted to kill this egomaniac even more.

Just before I slipped my arm around his neck to choke him, he spun around and grabbed my arm, like he expected it.

He twisted my arm down and made me wince. “I’m your king—and you will serve me.”

My temper ran hotter than the temperature in the Arid Sands. The kind of rage that couldn’t be suppressed behind bones and flesh. It seeped out of me like poison through the skin. With the speed of a cobra, I punched him straight in the mouth.

He must have assumed I wouldn’t be so stupid as to strike him like that because he stumbled back slightly, the corner of his mouth immediately swollen and bloody. When his eyes found mine, they were a whole new level of livid.

Fuck, he was going to kill me. I backed up several steps, trying to give myself some kind of advantage with distance.

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