Page 230 of The War and Deceit Series omnibus

Grayson sighs, drawing my attention. When I meet his gaze, I expect him to smile, but he’s uncharacteristically serious. “I hate to agree with the elf, but he’s right.”

“You have to promise us, Clarissa,” Vaeril says, stepping forward and taking Eldrin’s place as the other elf moves back to make room for his friend. Placing his hand on my chin, he liftsmy face and presses his forehead against mine. “Even if you have to come back kicking and screaming. You come back to us.” Each word is forceful and precise, he’s very clear about what he wants me to do. He knows doing that would start a war, one he would fight to get me back. Also, he may not say it, but I know if it came down to my life or Jacob’s, he would want me to leave the prince behind.

“And we will be fighting for you on the other side,” Tor vows as the four of them share a look. They may not like each other, some of them are even enemies, yet for me, they are united and would work together.

The idea that they may try to fight their way through all of the king’s guards to get to me is terrifying. I need to make sure I return to them so they don’t try anything.

“I promise.” My voice is somber as I meet their eyes.

We don’t say anything else or hug and kiss, we don’t need to. I know the strength of their love from the heat in their eyes. The king doesn’t deserve to witness our affection.

They part to let me through, and I stop when I see Naril leaning against the wall by the alcove, guarding our backs while we were speaking. His expression is set in his usual smirk, but his eyes are alert as they scan the ballroom. When they land on me, something on my face must alarm him, because the smirk drops and he pushes away from the wall, coming to stand before me. Glancing briefly at the males still in the alcove behind me, I return my attention to Naril. “Look after them for me while I’m gone?”

He knows what I’m asking. We both know that as soon as I leave this room, the four of them are going to struggle with their protective instincts, particularly Eldrin, who doesn’t have a constant link to me like the others do. I’m worried about Grayson too, and as I stare into Naril’s eyes, I know he will do what he can to protect Grayson, even from himself, despite hisfeelings towards magicians. He will do that for me. We had a rocky friendship at the start, and he’s fiercely protective of his friends, but at some point, I earned that loyalty.

Golden eyes lock with mine, he reaches out and clasps my shoulder. “For you, chosen one, always.”

His stupid moniker for me makes me smile, breaking some of the tension inside me, and with a final look at my mates, I nod at Samson and walk towards the king.

It feels like the whole ballroom is holding its breath, as despite the orchestra playing, the only sounds I can hear are my own footsteps on the stone and the pounding of my heart.

The king is waiting for me at the base of the throne, his right hand resting on the pommel of his sword which is strapped to his waist. I pause when I reach him but don’t bother to bow. I simply look up at him with a raised eyebrow, Samson just a step behind me.

“Well, that was lovely,” the king drawls, rolling his eyes. I know exactly what he thinks of my little goodbye scene, but I don’t care. When I don’t react to his comment, he simply snorts and turns, gesturing for me to follow. “Come.”

Walking past the now empty thrones, I glance at the ballroom once again. Rhydian is nowhere to be seen, which isn’t a good sign, and there seem to be more priests than lords and ladies, but there’s nothing I can do about that now. I just have to hope that the mages have a strong enough shield to protect everyone. Behind the dais is a small, unadorned wooden door, and without checking to see if we’re following, the king disappears inside the dark space beyond it. Sharing a look with Samson, I take a deep breath and step through. I have to blink a few times as my eyes adjust to the sudden darkness, but as they do, I realise we’re in an empty corridor. It’s cold and damp in here, the only light coming from the open door behind us, and the single window at the far end of the corridor.

My heart pounds in my chest when I realise we’re alone. The king is gone. The corridor doesn’t seem to go anywhere, it’s just a long, narrow passage. Was this a trap? With my breathing starting to accelerate, I try to keep calm. Samson mutters something in a language I don’t recognise, and in the next moment, a ball of light appears in his palm. Instantly feeling my panic recede a little, I give him a grateful look, and we start to walk down the corridor once more.The king can’t have just disappeared, I reason, knowing there must be more to this than what meets the eye.

We’ve almost reached the window when I realise that part of the wall looks different. I reach out, and the wall gives way, the sticky feeling of magic coating my hand before revealing a room beyond.

“An illusion spell. They don’t usually react like this though. It must be an old one.” Samson sounds surprised, and I just nod in agreement, not bothering to tell him that I just shattered said spell with my gift.

Stepping into the room, we find the king waiting for us with a grin on his face. He’s eyeing the doorway where I just broke his spell, and his eyes are alight. I just confirmed his theory on how I escaped from the castle before. It was a trap, just not what I had been expecting, and because of that, I walked right into it.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I glare at the king. “Why am I here?” I demand, having had enough of his games. Turning my attention to the room, I search for clues. It looks like an old study. Two of the four walls are lined with bookshelves, and the others are covered with maps of Morrowmer. The king lounges in a large leather chair behind a wooden desk, but other than that, the room is empty. Something doesn’t add up. If it’s just a study, why would it be so well hidden? With no hints of why I’m here on display, I return my attention to the king. “Where’s Jacob?”

Relaxing back in his chair, the king places a letter on the desk. The script looks flowery and elegant, but I’m unable to read it, so I dismiss the parchment, not understanding how it could be relevant. “You see, Clarissa, you’ve put me in an awkward position.” He taps the letter with his forefinger. “The elf queen is killing the land, and soon, she will kill my people. Her powers are dark and evil.” He actually sounds passionate as he speaks, like he cares.

I want to laugh. I’ve experienced his own personal brand of evil. He must sense my disbelief because he smiles. “I know you think I’m evil, but she is something different altogether.” Pausing, he tilts his head and gestures towards me. “Which you would know, you’ve seen it. Those forsaken of hers…” I shudder, and he notices. “Yes, I don’t blame you for that reaction.”

A chill runs through me when I notice his face has gone pale from mentioning the forsaken. He may be trying to hide it, but he’s afraid.

Glancing at Samson, I see he’s frowning slightly, and I can’t help but wish the others were here. I blow out a breath, observing the king who’s watching me closely. “I don’t understand how this has anything to do with me.”

Looking down at the letter on his desk once again, the king goes silent as if he’s reading it, although from the dogeared state of the parchment, I would guess it’s been read multiple times. “The queen wants me to join forces with her to destroy you.”

Mother above. A rushing sound fills my ears, and for a second, I swear my heart stops in my chest. The bonds warm as my mates send me their strength, grounding me.Don’t panic. The queen is trying to undermine you and cause you to make mistakes,I tell myself, clasping my hands in front of me to stop myself from tracing my goddess mark.She’s gone to your enemy to make a statement, to cause you pain.I don’t say a word and try to adopt the blank mask the elves seem so adept at wearing.

Looking up from the letter, the king scowls as he runs his eyes over me. “Now, while I hate you and everything you stand for…your dalliances with the elves” —his face twists with disgust— “not to mention you took my mages from me—”

“I had nothing to do with that.” I take a step towards the desk, not allowing him to spew his lies as my anger rises like a volcano inside me. “You pushed them away with your actions. They came to me.”

A tingle of magic fills the room, making the hair on my arms stand on end, but it doesn’t feel malicious. From the corner of my eye, I spot Samson stepping closer to me, his hand making small motions down by his hip where the movement would be hidden by my skirts. Gratitude fills me, I may not have known this mage long, but I trust him to protect me.

The king’s eyes flash at being interrupted, but he shows no sign that he noticed the mage performing any magic. “That is beside the point,” he spits, pushing up from his chair, bracing both hands on the desk as he leans towards me. “The queen is killing the land. I’m not stupid, I know she will turn her army on me once she’s dealt with you.” A genuine look of concern passes over his face. “The only reason we’re still alive is because you really seem to wind her up.”

So far, everything he’s said is true, but I don’t understand why he thinks I would ever help him. It’s like he’s forgotten everything that happened to me. He might not have been the one to brand me, to beat, starve, and work me almost to the point of death, but it had all been done in his name. When I was saved, I found that he treats his people almost as badly.

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