Page 81 of King Elijah (The Zemiran Chronicles 2)

Beautiful men and women sprawled around the room, most of them straddled by sorcerers in various stages of undress. Cups of wine were shared, along with hungry caresses. Dancers were spread out in front of a stage, moving their bodies with slow, sensual movements, lulling a heavy-lidded audience into the slow burn of arousal.

On stage sat the host, looking for all the world like a king on his throne. Kieran drummed his fingers on the arm of his seat. Despite the array of sights before him, his eyes were trained on only one person, and they were hawk-like in their intensity.

Kieran watched Janelle as she and Elijah moved toward him, but they stopped abruptly as the man stood. Janelle’s shoulders stiffened as she stepped back, glued to Elijah’s side. Elijah could see the moment Kieran noted the lack of distance between himself and Janelle. He was the person he trained her to fear, despite her utmost loyalty to the bastard giving her orders.

It wasn’t Kieran that drew Elijah’s attention, though. He’d never seen anyone change their demeanor the way Janelle had as soon as they had stepped into that man’s presence. She seemed to shrink in on herself. Her shoulders were rigid, her eyes locked on the ground, and her chin hung low for the first time since he’d met her. His beautiful, fierce warrior, reduced to a trained attack dog, set to harm others but beaten into submission by its keeper.

The sight of it made Elijah’s blood boil. Kieran had trained Janelle to be a warrior, a trained killer. She was one of the most intimidating and confident people Elijah had ever met. But, in front of Kieran, she was his submissive.

No more, he thought. Janelle no longer belongs to him.

The band played an obnoxious tune in the corner of the platform. The music was so deafening that Elijah couldn’t hear Kora as she walked over and spoke into Kieran’s ear. He wanted to trust that woman, but she hadn’t earned it yet. Years of encountering betrayal by the people Elijah believed to be trustworthy taught him one thing: everyone lied. He could spot a backstabber a mile away, and Kora had no reason to protect Janelle, not when her own life would be at risk.

Kieran’s eyes looked as hollow as Elijah’s father’s, void of human emotion. He was cloaked in power, and with every step he took in their direction, Elijah shifted with him, being careful if the man was to strike when he wasn’t looking.

“Elijah,” Kieran said soothingly, standing before them. He reached out his hand. “Welcome to Newick. I promise we are allies today.” He dropped his hand, giving Elijah a playful smile when he didn’t meet his greeting with a shake. “My men have informed me that your army left Zemira a few days ago. That’s fantastic news. But don’t worry, you’ve done the right thing by bringing them with you. We can play nice until our people unite.”

Right, Elijah thought.

He knew if Kieran even attempted to kill the King of Zemira, he would start a war. By sending an assassin weeks ago, he could keep it all a secret. No one would have known who sent Janelle because she’d have taken her secrets to the grave. He made sure to train her that way. But now the stakes had changed. To kill Kieran in his own home while the Zemiran army stayed ready at the mountain on his order . . . no, he was safe for now.

Kieran turned to face Janelle. “And you, my love—”

“You’ll say nothing to her,” Elijah warned, gritting his teeth and powering down the magic stirring in his chest. “Nor will you address her as love.”

Kieran threw his head back and cackled, his drunken eyes glazed over.

The old-world treaties of the early kingdoms had been adhered to by all lands for centuries. As the head of Zemira, he would be waging war by taking the life of the leader of an outlying province, which Kieran was. Elijah had to proceed with caution in killing a ruler. With his armies, the Elven battalion, and the aid of the pirates, there was no doubt of Zemiran victory if it became necessary. As a man, however, cutting off Kieran’s head in an instant to save Janelle’s life was worth any consequence.

Elijah took a steadying breath before saying, “I may be surrounded by your most powerful sorcerers, Kieran, but I promise you, I’ll kill you before they can stop me. And once I’m dead by your people, my army will come crashing through those doors and take care of the rest of you.” A smile grew on Elijah’s lips, but it didn’t meet his eyes. “I have more soldiers than you; let us not forget that.”

Kieran cocked a brow. “I find this all too fascinating,” he said, wrinkling his nose. “So much protection for a woman you barely know. You even brutally killed my men for her.” His smile turned to a frown. “All for a woman who tried to assassinate you, nonetheless.”

Elijah’s fingers coiled into a tight fist.

He didn’t have to know everything about Janelle to do the right thing. He felt utterly bound to keep her safe. His father was a monster who not only refused to protect him but sabotaged any relationships Elijah had tried to form with peers within the castle. Until the day he died, Elijah had cultivated a powerful system of protection, but he learned only to guard himself. At no time in his life had he cared for anyone other than his mother and Lincoln. He built a steady wall around him that not even a ferocious dragon could tear down.

“You know, Elijah, you have to wonder . . .” His voice trailed off.

Elijah narrowed his eyes.

“What it all means,” Kieran continued. “Anyways. We’re having a party, and you’re safe now inside my home. I promise not to kill you or Janelle. I’m glad you both are here, actually. Water under the bridge. Right?” He pulled a wine glass from a servant’s tray as they walked by. “As you can see, that creature out there won’t be coming inside these walls any time soon. So, let us enjoy ourselves and handle the details once I’m sober. We’ll have a little chat when I can think straight again.”

Elijah gave him a quizzical look.

Two weeks ago, Kieran wanted him dead. He made sure no one would be able to tie Janelle to him. Then again, Kieran must know the repercussions of killing the King of Zemira. By sending an assassin, no one would be the wiser.

But now he claims to want peace? Elijah wondered. I’m not buying it.

Janelle inched closer to Elijah, and he did his best to pour every ounce of affection and reassurance into her through his touch. He could feel her relax, just a little, as their shoulders brushed together.

Kieran’s eyes narrowed on her and then back to Elijah.

“Have some wine to relax,” Kieran said. “Then you can visit the Oracle. She saw the two of you coming here today, and she wants to speak with you specifically.” He gestured to Elijah.

“The Oracle?” Janelle asked, her eyes growing wide.

Kieran reached out to place his hand on her cheek, but black smoke trailed from Elijah’s fingers. Though he didn’t attack, he kept the magic growing between them—a warning.

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