Page 2 of The King has Fallen

“There is evidence that theFetchhave finally chosen to join us,” Melek said without preamble, biting off the word that simultaneously made me smile and my upper lip curl back from my teeth. TheFetchwe had been named by those who feared us, in an attempt to diminish the shadow we cast over their cowardly hearts. So,Fetchwe had become. Let any man tremble when they sensed our presence. But Melek didn’t tremble. Heseethed.

“Reports of theft in the battle ranks have tripled, with similar accounts here in camp,” he muttered. “Two of our strategists have disappeared without a trace. And a dozen animals have been poisoned—while in guarded pens.”

I mentally applauded my brothers. The assassinations were strategic, but the rest merely a way to fuck with the Neph.

The King’s upper lip curled back. “Find them.”

Every man in the room went still, watching Melek, waiting for him to answer that ridiculous order. I had to bite my lip to stifle a laugh.

Find them,he said. Like we were mushrooms in the dark, just waiting to be plucked.

I eyed Melek, slowly tilting my head to see him more clearly.

How would he deal with his infantile and uninformed King?

“Sire, we watch for them, of course,” Melek said carefully. “But… as you know, the Fetch are… difficult to pin down.”

I very nearly snorted at the understatement—delivered in a tone as dry as the Raven Desert itself.

“So set traps. We have hunters. Let them hunt.”

Every man in the room shifted his weight or eyed his neighbor at the King’s thickheaded ignorance.

And they claimed this man carried the blood of thedivine?

“Again, Sire, wesearchfor them, of course. But they are… very skilled. And we cannot risk them informing our enemies of our plans. I ask your permission to call the hounds.”

My skin prickled at that. The Nephilim hounds were notorious—creatures of the dark who’d been blood-magiked, a hybrid monstrosity melding wolves and falcons. They were believed to walk in the physical world but see into the next realm, thus no skill of silence or obscurity could deter them. They followed the scent of one’ssoul.Not just to identify the soul’s owner, but to devour it. At least, that was what was whispered in the dark among the Nephilim’s enemies. Soulless creatures that they were, they yearned for the connection to the divine that a soul offered, and hence were as likely to devour anyone in their path in possession of one as the enemy they’d been set to find.

I’d never seen one and had desperately hoped they were a myth, a rumor started by the Nephilim themselves to create unease in their enemies and discourage thieves.

Nervous, I caught myself shifting my weight uneasily and tugged the hem of my tunic closer to my thigh so it wouldn’t find the light.

The King grunted. “The last time we loosed the hounds I lost three girls before they were leashed again.”

Melek’s full lips pressed thin as he nodded. “It is a risk; however, I believe we werecockyin our attempts last time. With the right instructions to the handlers, I believe we could keep our own humans safe.” Then Melek lifted his gaze to lock eyes with his King, and once again my breathing shallowed.

The man wasstunning.Yet, something was wrong.

When a fallen angel mated a human woman, their children were born massive, and regardless of hair or skin color, their eyes were always a deep, pure gold that glowed like sunlight. All the Nephilim had those incredible eyes.

But because the Nephilim werealwaysborn male, their only recourse for reproduction was to mate another human woman—usually violently. That meant that each subsequent offspring in a line had less and less angelic blood running in his veins.

While their royal lines always possessed eyes of gold, the servants and lowborn of their people—furthest from the fallen angels—had eyes of deep emerald, with every shade between represented in the ranks of their society. Until, many branches down the family tree, the children were merely human with eyes of any normal color and none of the Nephilim’s size or power.

I had always been taught thatonlythe golden-eyed among the Nephilim were allowed to carry significant rank. Yet, to my shock, Melek’s eyes were a startling, bright glow that was more green than gold. By every legend, those eyes should mean he was mostly human and lacking in the supernatural size and strength for which their kind were so feared. Though clearly that was not the case.

I gaped at this warrior of such renown, whose flesh carried the scars of battle on every inch. Even facing the King there was no hint of retreat in his posture.

Fascinating.

My breathing shallowed as the implications of that fact clicked into place: Was it possible this manhad a soul?

And if so, did he possess a conscience to match?

Adrenaline rocketed through my veins, my breath stopping completely as my mind explored the potential as avidly as any hound of the dark.

And I saw it. All of it. What was needed of me. And how changing the plan could change the world.

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