Page 15 of King Elijah (The Zemiran Chronicles 2)

Six

JANELLE KEPT HEReyes locked on Elijah as he entered the Garden Room. His stance was easy, but he rested his hand on the pommel of his sword all the same, as if he expected her to attack again the moment he let his guard down.

And I plan to, she thought.

“Have I no privacy?” Janelle asked, throwing her hands out. “Do you see any weapons on me? I am basically defenseless—”

Elijah huffed, walking further into the room.

“Defenseless?” he repeated, his hand dropping from his weapon. “Oh, I wouldn’t say that. I’ve seen you fight without any weapons at your disposal.” His low and steady tone made the hairs on her pale skin stand up straight. Elijah was like a predator, body quiet and controlled, waiting to strike at the first sign of weakness.

“How did you learn to fight like that, anyhow? Is there an Elven colony I’m not aware of where you practice throwing insults when you run out of throwing stars?”

She smirked. Janelle had known that Elijah was a calculating, intelligent man from the start. She saw his tactical edge. He didn’t seem to speak without reason, and it was unlikely that he was asking her questions for the sake of it. She made a mental note to carefully choose her words, ensuring she didn’t let anything slip.

However, Janelle wasn’t fooled by his handsome face and the occasional softness in his eyes. She knew he was an evil man. Her teacher, Kora, had warned her about his true nature. The son of King Matthias Delamere, who laced his love of violence with the magical power born only to a Newick witch. He enjoyed causing pain more than anything; he would rape, maim, and murder for fun. She wouldn’t let herself be deceived.

Elijah is despicable, she reminded herself.

Her eyes narrowed at the king as he sat on the chair in the corner of the room. It didn’t slip past her that he had chosen the most defensible seat possible, positioned with his back to the wall.

“Tell me, Janelle,” he started again, his handsome features carefully arranged in an unreadable mask. “How is it that an elf, whose supposed purpose in life is to protect others, could become an assassin? And not any assassin; an assassin bent on destroying a kingdom that only cares about bringing peace to the world?”

She gritted her teeth, feeling a torrent of hot, angry blood rush through her veins. “Peace?” she said. “Does genocide and rape bring you peace?”

Elijah’s face grew hard as stone, and Janelle felt a tingling prick across the back of her neck. There was a sudden tension in the room, like the crackle of lightning in the air before a thunderstorm.

“Rape?” he said the word with utter disgust. “It sounds as if someone has been manipulating you, assassin. Picking just the right words to stoke your hatred. Have I killed before? Of course, I’ve slaughtered many of my enemies, and I would kill thousands more to keep my people safe. But I never, not one day in my life, considered killing an innocent. Nor have I ever forced a woman. I prefer fucking someone whose face is full of ecstasy while they look into my eyes. Not terror. Any man in my kingdom caught doing something like that would swiftly find themselves lacking their favorite appendage as a punishment.” Elijah’s jaw was clenched, and his eyes glittered with barely controlled rage as he leaned closer to her.

Janelle’s lips parted, and she felt her breath quicken as she waited for him to continue, confusion about what he had told her flooding her mind. Maybe Kora had been wrong or had lied to her. He seemed flushed with anger at the thought of it all, appearing completely sincere. Or perhaps, he was telling her what she wanted to hear.

“I’m not my father,” he growled in a deep voice, “and I don’t share his deplorable values, despite any brainwashing you’ve received to the contrary. My only priority for my kingdom, and the one thing I work for above all else, is peace. The sooner you realize that, the better.”

Elijah let out a sigh, and Janelle could see his mask slip enough to reveal his clearly felt weariness. The shock of how exhausted he looked struck Janelle to her core. His tone felt sincere and almost sounded like the truth. She forced herself to harden her heart against him despite her growing desire to believe his lies.

“I am not the same man as I once was,” he said. “If this is about—”

“Save your breath, Elijah,” she said. “Zemiran royals are all the same.” She stood up from her bed, trying to regain some sense of control. The horrible red dress was long gone. As soon as Janelle returned to her room, she tore the wretched thing from her body and tossed it out the window. Her slim, brown pants and black shirt were back on, and she felt more like herself than she had in days. “If you expect fear or obedience from me, you have another thing coming, King,” she sneered. “I have no intention of revealing anything about myself or my mission. Whatever tortures you have planned will be a waste of time.” She took a few steps toward him, bracketing him with her arms as she leaned her weight on his chair and moved close enough to feel his hot breath on her face. “You might as well kill me and get it over with.”

King Elijah smirked, and she wanted to smack the amusement from his face.

“If I were you,” she continued, “I’d begin by locking down your kingdom. The next one to come for your life, as I have clearly failed, won’t stop at you and your guards. They’ll rip this entire kingdom apart and kill anyone who gets in the way.”

Elijah’s eyes changed from blue to black in an instant. He sprang forward, grabbing her by her shirt and jerking her so close that her breasts were pressed into his muscular chest.

Joined from hips to shoulder, Elijah’s grip was tight on her as he marched her backward, only stopping when her legs hit the bed. A quick shove sent her sprawling backward and before she could blink, she found herself lying on her back, looking up at him. His expression was fierce as he placed one knee on either side of her body, squeezing her tight and pinning her to the mattress. It made her breath hitch, lips part, and voice fall utterly speechless as she stared back at the man she thought she hated.

There were rumors about how handsome the King of Zemira was, but she hadn’t expected them to be this true. And, more importantly, she hadn’t expected her own body to respond to him like it had, to go soft and supple in his hands, despite all the terrible things she knew. Or at least thought she knew.

He hovered over her, face full of rage and fury, in a comfortable position to take her life. Despite that, fear and desire coursed through her in equal portions. For all her bravado, she wasn’t ready to die. But she also didn’t think she was prepared to explore the part of herself that wanted to believe all his claims of righteousness. No matter where she let her thoughts travel, it was undeniable that her body felt tuned to the monster’s body pressing into her.

Elijah hovered over her, and the room seemed to still. The only sound was the ragged breathing of the two as they stared at each other. Janelle was almost startled when Elijah finally moved his hand, and she found herself both frightened and wanting. He smoothed his fingers over her hair, his touch feather-light, and then traced over the hinge of her jaw. She felt her heart thud when his hand turned firm and he gripped her jaw, pressing the pad of his thumb into her chin to hold her still, just barely grazing her bottom lip. Her mouth unconsciously opened further as if inviting Elijah to slide inside. She had no idea what she was doing. She was losing control over herself to him, her enemy.

“It’s best you try not to fight me,” he said in a low, dangerous voice. “You will stay right where you are until I’m finished with you.”

Janelle’s mind grasped wildly until it seized on her anger and hatred, overpowering the part that wanted to let her body melt into him.

“Fuck you!” she snapped but instantly regretted her words as his eyes turned dark again. It wasn’t only the look of menace; his power was taking hold of him. The energy that swept between them caused every hair on her body to stand straight. It felt as if her own Elven powers were starting to surrender to his dark magic deep within.

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