Page 23 of The Manticore's Human Queen
"The caves in the northern reaches," I say. "My brothers and I were meant to rendezvous there. If any of them survived the wreck..."
"You'll find them." Her voice holds absolute certainty. "And when you do, I'll be beside you."
The fierce loyalty in her words makes something in my chest tighten. "Annelise, you don't understand what you're choosing. The mission we're on, the dangers we'll face?—"
"Don't." She presses her fingers to my lips through the bars. "Don't try to protect me from my own choices. I know exactly what I'm choosing."
I capture her hand in mine, pressing a kiss to her palm. "And what are you choosing?"
"You," she says simply. "I'm choosing you, Tarek. Whatever comes after, we face it together."
The vow hangs in the air between us, sacred and unbreakable. I have spent my life as a weapon in service to others—my king, my brothers, my mission. But this woman, this brave, impossible woman, is choosing me not as a tool or a protector, but as a man.
"When this is over," I say, my voice rough with emotion, "when we're free of this place... I want you to know that you won't just be escaping with me. You'll be coming home with me."
"Home?"
"To Osiris. To my people." I meet her gaze steadily. "As my mate. My queen."
The words seem to steal the breath from her lungs. For a moment, she simply stares at me, her lips parted in surprise. Then, slowly, a smile spreads across her face—not the polite,practiced expression she wears for the elves, but something radiant and real.
"Your queen," she repeats, testing the words. "I like the sound of that."
"Then it's settled." I bring her hand to my lips again, sealing the promise with a kiss. "Three more days of this charade, and then we take back our lives."
She gathers the maps, tucking them safely away. "I should go. The guards will be changing shifts soon."
"Annelise." She turns back at my voice. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For seeing me. For choosing me. For being brave enough to fight for us."
Her smile is soft, but her eyes are fierce. "Thank you for being worth fighting for."
As she slips away into the shadows, I return to my training. But now each movement has new purpose, each stretch and flex a preparation not just for battle, but for the life that waits beyond these bars.
In three days, I will no longer be a beast in a cage.
I will be a king reclaiming his queen.
27
TAREK
The ballroom cage is a gilded mockery of my captivity. Unlike the honest iron bars of the menagerie, this prison is designed for display, its golden bars twisted into decorative vines that catch the light from the crystal chandeliers above.
I pace the confines of my new prison, testing the chains that bind me to the floor. They’re shorter here, more restrictive—a deliberate humiliation for the wedding guests who will soon fill this hall.
Soft footsteps on marble draw my attention. Annelise approaches through the shadows, and I feel a familiar surge of protective fury at the sight of her in this place. But as she draws closer, I notice a change. Her steps are sure, confident, free of the trembling uncertainty that once marked her every movement.
“You’re not shaking,” I observe as she kneels beside the bars.
She glances at her hands, seeming surprised. “I’m not, am I?”
“You were terrified the first night you came to me. Every muscle in your body screamed with fear.” I move closer to the bars, studying her face in the dim light. “Now you move like a warrior preparing for battle.”
A flush of pride colors her cheeks. “I don’t feel like a warrior.”
