Page 1 of Dead

Prologue

“Send the edicts on to the council for me,” the king ordered his servant before turning to Eilam. “There. That’s done. What is it you wished to speak with me about?”

Eilam had been trailing behind the king—at His Majesty’s request—for three hours, awaiting his turn to speak. The king had done so purposefully, Eilam was sure of it, as a punishment of sorts.

The king had done it before…

No longer.

He waited until the servant left the room to speak his peace. As soon as the door closed, he spun to face the regent.

“Do you have any idea how busy a man I am?”

The king turned to face him, anger in his stare. “Watch your tone.”

“I’ve wasted a quarter of my day chasing after you, awaiting the moment you deem to pay me a moment’s attention so we can finally get around to the important issues pertaining to your security. I have men to train, inspections to perform, checks to make, and am I doing those things? No, I’m chasing after you because you’re a spoiled, impudent child who likes to piss me off.”

The king lifted a hand, ready to send a blast of his power—forgetting his magic had no effect on Eilam. “How dare you,” he seethed, lowering his hand.

“I dare—did you know we’ve had rumors of another assassin coming for you?”

The king’s ire faded a moment, but his bravado was back in full force seconds later. “Many have tried. All have failed.”

“Not when the King’s Guard was so undermanned. Not when the king has the head of his security stuck following him for three hours… Not. Doing. His. Job.”

The king had the nerve to look haughty. “Fine. I’ll do my best to cater to your needs instead of my kingdom.”

“If you’re dead, you won’t have a kingdom to rule.”

The king glared at him, but Eilam didn’t care. The warlock was his and Noah’s mate—even if the king refused them. Eilam wouldn’t allow harm to befall the man. He’d give his own life for his king.

If he had to step over the line to make the man see reason, so be it.

“Then go,” the king blasted. “Go keep me safe from harm.”

“Gladly,” Eilam said as he strode toward the door. He paused, holding the knob. “Are you truly so bloodthirsty?”

“What?”

“What you said to Hart about Garret and Solomon—did you really wish to see them fight over the human?”

“I said it was a joke.”

“You don’t joke,” Eilam said, lifting one brow.

“Perhaps I am just that bloodthirsty. You don’t know me as well as you think you do.”

“Then perhaps I’m glad you refused my claim.”

The king glared at Eilam. “As am I.”

Something shimmered in the middle of the room. Eilam sensed it before he actually saw it. He raced toward his mate, instinct taking over.

The assassin materialized in the middle of the king’s chamber, sending out a blast of dark magic just as Eilam crashed into him. They landed on the floor, a tangle of fists. Eilam fought the strong male—at least he assumed it was a male.

He wore all black, including a face covering, to hide his identity.

“Get out of my way!” the king screamed.

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