Page 10 of A Shattered Kingdom of Steel

I spit at his feet. “I despise you.”

The male to his left with the swirling tattoos covering the length of his arms lurches forward, his hands clenched into fists by his sides.

I stare him down, silently daring him to take a swing at me.

But Asheros merely holds his arm out in front of him, not once taking his eyes off me. “Stand down, Ronan.”

To his left, the male, Ronan, grits his teeth, but obeys.

Looking at me, Asheros raises the crown of his head and lowers his arm. “I don’t care what you think of me.”

“Perhaps you should.” Holding my ground, I don’t shy from his gaze. “I’m not someone to make your enemy.”

He cocks his head, the corner of his lip perked up into something between a sneer and a smirk. “I’ll take that risk.” He gestures to my hips. “You’re not so formidable without your singing blades, Captain.”

Fury boils my blood. “You pompous, haughty—”

“Easy there, Bladesinger,” Asheros says, with a full-on smirk. His amusement sparks a fire inside me. “I wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself.” I don’t have time to respond to his nickname for me before he flicks two fingers in my direction. “Restrain her.”

Before I can move away, Ronan and the chestnut-haired male take hold of my upper arms. Their grip on me is iron-tight, and I feel my cheeks flush red. Just before they can drag me back to the camp, heat vibrates in my chest, sending jitters rippling across my skin.

Eyes wide, I look to my arms, where a warm, orange glow glimmers around me. Steadily, it grows in strength, until it’s so bright, I look like a burning star.

Dread sinks to the bottom of my stomach.

I let out a forced exhale. “You have got to be joking.”

The males gripping my upper arms freeze, their faces going pale at the sight of me. They look at each other first, and then turn back to their master.

I swallow the lump in my throat and look over my shoulder, following their line of sight. The same burning light that surrounds me shines from within Asheros, as if he and I are made from the same kind of celestial matter. He holds his palms out in front of him, eyes cast down at them. The hardness of his jaw and flexed muscles tells me he doesn’t like what he sees.

Well, that makes two of us.

The matching orange glow surrounding Asheros and I can only mean one thing: Theelia, the Goddess of Fate, has blessed us. Marked us as fated. This is her way of telling us that our fates are bound, and our relationship with each other will fall into one of two categories: lovers, or killers.

The unavoidable truth pierces me like a blade through my chest.

Asheros Larmanne will be my mate, or my murderer.

That is, if I don’t kill him first.

“This doesn’t make sense,” I mutter, forcing myself to look away from him. “Why now?” Why didn’t Theelia make her will known before? Why mark us as fated at all? What greater purpose could our bond serve?

A long, heavy silence hangs between us. Even the forest itself seems to go still in the wake of the goddess’s message.

More than anything, I wish I hadn’t taken Viridian’s gods-damned diplomat position. I should have remained at High Keep, acting as Captain of the High King’s Guard. Maybe then, the guards I took with me through Nemos’s Pass would still be breathing, and this, being fated to the very male to blame for their deaths, would never have happened.

Asheros inhales, leveling his tone. “It would appear that you and I are fated, Bladesinger.”

“Over my dead body.”

“Careful, now,” he says, a coy smile playing at his mouth. “I might be the last thing you see before you take your final breath.”

I glower at him, tensing my muscles. The males restraining me adjust their stances, stopping me from going straight for Asheros’s throat.

“Savell,” Asheros says to the chestnut-haired male, “return her to my tent and see to it that she stays there.”

So, it was his tent I woke up in earlier. The thought turns my stomach.

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