Page 25 of Vow of the Shadow King

But what manner of man is this? The otherworldly king? The fierce protector? The strong leader? The tender lover? Or the vengeful, dark, dangerous, secret self that underlies all these? Even now, he holds himself back, fighting the urges pulsing in his veins. Determined to honor me. No matter what.

Because that is the truth of his character. The real man. The man of honor.

Summoning my courage, I stretch out a hand. Take hold of his. A spark seems to shoot from his touch, sending ripples of lava across my senses. But it’s not painful. In fact, quite the opposite.

“Faraine.” My name is rough on his lips.

“What if there is no other way?” I say again softly. “What if we are each other’s only hope?”

He looks at me like I truly am his lifeline, his salvation. My heart quivers, thrilling anew at the possibilities inspired by his touch. I’m not sure I will ever again feel the peace I once knew in his presence, but . . . but maybe . . .

I draw a step nearer. The air between us is alive. Lightning leaps back and forth from my body to his.

“I don’t want to give up hope,” I whisper, lowering my eyes to his lips. “Do you?”

Without a word, he slips his other hand around my waist. His palm is warm through the silky fabric of my robe as he draws me toward him. I tense, but the pressure he applies, though firm, is gentle. The emotions rippling from his soul are so different from what they were under the poison’s influence. There’s nothing dark here. Terrifying yes, but a thrilling, heady sort of terror that intoxicates rather than frightens. The warmth in his touch is not the heat of destruction but the fire of life itself.

His hand slides slowly up my back, molding my spine so that I bend toward him. He takes my hand, presses it against his bare chest. I feel his heartbeat throbbing under my palm. “Faraine,” he says again, bowing his head toward me. I find my mouth drawn irresistibly toward his, until the space between our lips is scarcely more than a breath, a whimper. Suddenly my body remembers how it felt to lie beneath him, to give myself over to him. To feel him delighting in my curves and contours. To experience his pleasure every time he elicited another low moan from my throat.

Only this time, how different might it be? Because this time, he knows who I am. I stand before him as myself and no other. Unmasked. The shunned princess. My father’s embarrassment. My mother’s shame. The eldest daughter, but the second choice. And yet . . .

And yet I’ve always known that with Vor, I was never second. He would have chosen me first had the choice been his all along.

What will he choose now? Hope? Duty? Restraint? Despair? I feel each alternative swirling around us like a storm. All I want is to stand up on my toes, to close that tiny space between us. To make the choice for him. But I cannot. This is a choice that must be made together or not at all.

The tip of his nose brushes against mine. That touch alone is nearly enough to undo me. I have no dread anymore. Only need. My breath is quick and fast, my heart thudding so loud, I’m sure he must hear it. And still he holds himself in check.

“Oh, Faraine, Faraine.” His voice is like a prayer. “What if I hurt you? What if I . . .?”

“I am not afraid, Vor.” My eyes close, my body and soul wholly concentrated on the warm sweetness of his breath against my mouth.“Please.”

His chin dips. His lips just brush against mine, maddeningly light. Not even a taste. Like a single drop of water on a parched and desperate tongue. I open my mouth to him, but he’s already retreated. “Vor—” I begin, urgently.

A great, crashing groan of rock.

Every fragile thing in the air between us shatters. We spring away from one another just as a second groan and crash follows the first. Then a rough troldish voice shouts from the other side of the door:“Vor! Morar-juk, crorsva-tah, Vor?”

Vor’s eyes flash in thelorstlight, meeting mine. He looks frightened and then angry and then . . . I don’t know. His barriers slam back into place, pushing his emotions beyond the reach of my gods-gift. “My brother,” he says shortly. Turning to the broken doorway, he bellows back,“Grakol-dura, Sul! Mazoga!”

I retreat further into the room, pulling my robe tight around myself. My body is still warm and alive, but what am I to do with these feelings? I don’t know what will happen once the troldefolk break through. Will Vor be true to his word? Will he send me home directly?

The door shudders in its frame. More shouts, more voices. Finally, the door slams open hard. Two figures step through in a cloud of dust. The first of them launches himself at Vor, but the second spares not a glance for her king. Instead, Captain Hael’s eyes fix upon me. Very wide. Very tense. Every line of her face is etched deep with shadow.

She strides across the room to me and drops her voice to a low pitch. “Are you hurt, Princess?”

Hastily, I shake my head then draw my shoulders back and answer out loud, “I’m fine.” My bodyguard tosses her gaze between me and Vor, her mouth disbelieving. I catch her forearm, draw her eye back to me. “Truly, I am unhurt. Nothing . . . happened.”

Hael’s eyes spark in thelorstlight. She opens her mouth then closes it on whatever questions are piling up on her tongue. Instead, she puts an arm around me and says only, “Come. Let’s get you out of here. Find you some proper clothes.” I can’t very well protest, especially as more and more people are now crowding the chamber, cutting me off from Vor. So I let her guide me toward the door.

“Hael!”

At the sound of her king’s voice, Hael’s arm tightens around me. My heart leaps to my throat and catches there. Is this the moment? The moment when Vor issues the command for me to be sent home? I force myself to turn around. To meet his eyes. They glow so strangely by the flickering lights of the multi-coloredlorstcrystals carried into the room by our rescuers.

He wrenches his gaze away from me, focusing on Hael instead. “Have the princess taken to fresh chambers and made comfortable.”

Hael offers a sharp salute. “At once, my King.”

Then she pushes me through the door, and Vor is lost to my sight.

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