Page 118 of Kingdom of the Two Moons

“No? But it must mean something that you, as the king, come to save a runaway slave,” I bite back. Pushing him. “Sealing the whole Fortress. Interrogating people.”

He turns to me fully then, and I wish he wouldn’t look as frightening as he did in the desert. To hell, or well,hellswith it.

“I know I’m the last silver elf.”

His eyes gutter, shadows twirling from his shoulders and slowly coming for me. I realize he’s still furious, however he just seemed.

I don’t back off. I take a step towards him. “That’s why the Nefarians want me dead. Badly enough to kill themselves. So, what is it I can do other than reading old languages?”

“Such a familiar tone,” he purrs, but his eyes darken further at what I just revealed.

“I deserve to know, myking.” Damn me, the last worddoessound like an insult.

His fangs flash, but he finally says, “I don’t yet know the full scope of what you can do. Yet breaking my wards as easily as tearing through a veil spun of sea silk seems to be yet another of your talents.”

“And others can’t do that?” I ask, surprised at his confession. At the fact that he told mesomething.

“Obviously not.”

My heart staggers into an uneven beat as the reality of it catches up with me.

This is why he wanted me. Searched me. Keeps me. And what that means.

My eyes fall to the floor eventually. “So you’re planning on locking me up and—forcing me to serve you?” I cannot stand looking into his eyes as I say it.Just like Lyrian.

“I would not necessarily force you,” he retorts in a way that implies he would do exactly that.

My eyes fly back up to him; my anger winning out. “No? So I can just go? Seems to me that’s exactly what I can’t do.”

He bares his teeth, and his shadows start to move again. I glower at him, at them, hiding my inner terror.

“As I said, not letting you leave is for your protection as well. You might realize that in time.”

“Yeah? To me, it sounds a lot like a prison. Why not just put a collar around my neck.”

“Do you want one?” he seethes back. His shadows reach me, bristling along my skin. “Because it can easily be arranged if you ask for it.” He takes a step closer, and to my horror, as he turns the palm of his hands upwards, indeed a collar appears in it.

My eyes flare. He smiles then, truly smiles. It makes me want to run.

“Did it ever occur to you that othersmight treat you much worse than I?” he purrs softly.

“You torture people,” I manage to say, but it comes out breathlessly. My eyes are still locked on that collar.

“I haven’t tortured you, as far as I remember,” he says back.Not yet,his eyes seem to imply, his shadows ghosting over my skin like wreathing, deadly, undiluted midnight.

I hold very, very still as they wander upwards, brushing up against my collarbone, my neck, my chin. Like a touch. Like a leash. Or a noose. Whatever he wills them to be with half a thought.

I say, “Maybe I’m more trouble than I’m worth.”

He cocks his head at that, the movement pure predator. “Interesting. Usually, people try to convince me that they’re useful to me in one way or the other.”

I shiver at the way his eyes dip to my face, my lips, and down over my sternum, snaring there before his face grows cold with sudden disdain.

I ignore the shame curling in my belly. Ignore my reflex to cover myself, my chest.

I say, as unfazed as I can, “How frustrating it must be to have everyone eager to comply with your desires. And boring, I imagine.”

His eyes briefly widen with surprise. Yet, as he straightens, his face shows nothing but cruel arrogance. “You’d be wise to cherish my protection.”

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