Bound to the Elvin King (37 page)

Talion’s strong voice rang out across the clearing. “And the last tidings I’ve hinted at are the most joyous, I believe. Lady Margaret”—he held out a hand—“join me, please.”

Her previous disquiet exploded into downright dread and horror. Oh no, he didn’t.... He better not…. Her feet rooted to the ground, even though her body swayed with the urge to flee.

Talion turned sideways and motioned to her imperiously. The slightly pleading expression in his eyes stood in contrast against the hard planes of his face.

She shook her head, shifting away from him.

“Maggie,” he said softly. “It is time.”

Betrayal and panic flooded her. It
wasn’t
time. She still had a month. He’d promised. “No.” She inched backward.

Talion took a step toward her. She stumbled until her back hit Avrin. Her gaze remained fixed on Talion, even as she contemplated the idea of mowing Avrin down in her wild flight to safety.

Apparently, Avrin knew her too well because he placed a staying hand on her shoulder. She knew he’d grab her tight if she tried to bolt. With a few steps, Talion closed the distance between them. He pulled her forward, and she had no choice but to go unless she wanted to cause a scene. Other than a few murmurs, their audience remained quiet.

He anchored her firmly to his side and slid his hand into hers. Her face flamed. The way he touched her left little doubt about the familiarity of their relationship. All gazes were on the king—and by extension of that—on her.

She yearned to deck him and disappear. He’d broken her trust, and it wasn’t something she gave easily. But the worst part was the ache in her chest. To think she’d nearly given him her heart— No. She’d given him nothing but her body. And her loyalty and her trust, which he all but flushed down the crapper. And for what? To make a point
he
controlled the relationship?

Pride kept her glued to the stage because she could’ve broken his hold. A well-placed jab to his groin area would’ve done the trick. But even she hesitated to humiliate him that way, though it was so tempting. If this was the first official day of her being queen, she sure as hell would pull it off with some finesse. And that meant not kicking the king in the nuts.

“People of Eria, please welcome my bond mate and your new queen.” He paused. “Queen Margaret.”

She cringed. God, she hated her real name. And she hated being called queen. The crowd didn’t seem to react much better. Gasps, whispers, and a few noises of outrage reached her. Yeah, they loved the news as much as she did. Apparently, nothing was greater than being a
human
elvin queen.

Someone clapped, startling her. Slowly applause built until it threatened to pound against Maggie’s head like the sound of a jackhammer. She forced a smile to her face. Talion had probably planted someone in the crowd to start the clapping frenzy. She’d play along—for now. Because, honestly, she couldn’t see any benefit to beating the shit out of him in public, where his guard would stop her before she could land a good, strong kick to his manhood.

Rage smoldered underneath her skin. Lava had replaced the blood in her veins. She tightened her grip and dug her fingernails into the fleshy part of his palm. He flinched. A surge of satisfaction hit her. But he kept a pleasant expression on his face, and her upwelling of gratification quickly died. She would kill him. Yep. In the most painful way imaginable. Skin him alive. Flay him. There were so many options. She maintained her composure for the next half hour by plotting the possible deaths of the fucking bastard—aka the elvin king.

Talion drew her down to the crowd, where he introduced her to a dizzying array of people. During that time, fakeness was her name, which was sure as hell better than
Margaret.
She smiled and nodded, and greeted everyone who came before her until she feared her cool would blow. But when it did, she wanted no one but Talion to bear the full brunt of it.

A deep breath in and out—that became her mainstay until they were in private, and she could go all Mt. Maggie on his butt. With every intake and exhale, she watched her human life disintegrate like tissue down a toilet. Her near-completed college degree, her carefree lifestyle, her dreams of being a high school music teacher while dabbling in the theater scene—all gone. But what frightened and pissed her off the most was that she was publically leg shackled to someone who couldn’t care less about her feelings. He’d lied to her!

Finally, he must have decided she’d had enough because he made their excuses, saying
she
needed to rest. Normally, such a chauvinistic response would’ve pissed her off, but he’d already filled her piss-o-meter to full.

But once on the winding trail up to the palace, she shook her elbow free of his hold and stalked away. Her guard followed her. Talion wisely made no effort to catch up to her. Smart man. He valued his life—and his dangly bits.

Her hands fisted. She needed to calm down, and then and only then, would they have it out. But something told her that calmness would be an elusive quality to find and the ache in her chest would only grow.

***

Talion stared blindly at the mural on the wall. The chair behind his desk sat empty. Mountains of paperwork called to him, but he couldn’t force himself into stillness.

Though he’d returned from the Harvest Festival hours ago, the image of Maggie’s hurt and furious face still remained indelibly etched in his mind. Nothing could dislodge it. He’d tried drink, but found he had no liking for it at the moment. Banging his head against his desk hadn’t yielded any better results.

He knew he’d have to discuss his actions with her, but confronting her now seemed...unwise. Better to leave her alone for a while. Though some might consider that cowardly, he preferred to see it as a levelheaded decision.

He’d had to acknowledge her, by the Powers of Eria. Her life was in danger, and that was…unacceptable. Informing her of the danger hadn’t worked, because she refused to accept reason or see past…past her own hurts and insecurities, for which he couldn’t fault her. He’d done little to ease them. But the reveal had to be done. The darkindred roamed and threatened. They were at war, and the mist certainly seemed as if it planned on involving his new queen far more deeply than he preferred.

Whether she realized it or not, she’d captured his heart. She revived his mind and soul like nothing or nobody else could. A future without her would be dismal at best, and at worst, insanity and death would take him, which was the most likely option upon her death without her soul grounding his to reality.

Stooping slightly, he slapped his hands against the smooth wood of his desk. The vibrations traveled through his arms, and he lowered his head. He wouldn’t lose her. He couldn’t.

A commotion sounded in the hallway, and he straightened. Before he had time to think upon the cause, the door slammed open, and a wild-eyed Maggie stood in the entrance.

Talion sucked in a ragged breath. Any hope that she’d calmed down died. His kitten was angry and rightly so. He’d have to make sure she didn’t scratch him too badly.

She stomped to him and stopped a few feet away. Her skin was flushed as if fury simmered beneath it. “How could you? Like that? I could kill you, Talion, you rat bastard.”

Her insult stung, though she’d called him such before. The appellation felt more deserved this time, though, and her voice held a hint of coldness he’d never heard from her.

Maybe if he admitted his wrongdoing, she’d be quicker to forgiveness. “I know I didn’t keep my side of the bargain.”

A growl rumbled from her throat. “Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

“You have my sincerest regrets.” The words stuck in his throat. He hated apologizing and usually avoided it at all costs. As king, he gave orders, and people followed them. It was a testament to his love—and guilt—that he forced himself to continue speaking. “If I had any other choice, I would have never made the announcement without your knowledge and agreement.”

Her brows lowered. “No choice?”

“There have been certain security breaches and threats, as you know. The only way I saw to handle them successfully and protect you was to claim you as my queen.”

She stomped her foot. “How would telling everyone about our bond protect me? Wouldn’t that put me in more danger? And why didn’t you tell me all this?”

“I did try, but you wouldn’t hear of moving up the date. I know you’d more than likely continue protesting, no matter the risk to you.” He shook his head. “The dissenters think to use you against me. Someone in that group knows of our bond and is seeking to destroy it. Our bond had to be acknowledged, and it was much better for us to do so than the enemy. Plus, now that I’ve claimed you as queen, you’ll share my quarters and have your own royal guard.”

“I already have a guard, and I won’t share your quarters. Hell, I don’t even want to be in the same palace as you. Anyway, like I said, my trio of guys is enough for me.”

A disbelieving laugh worked its way up his throat. “Maggie, haven’t you noticed how many sentries lurk in the royal wing? They’re all part of my guard. And this holds true for whatever other vicinity I may be in. Three warriors can never protect you the way a whole force could.”

Her mouth opened and closed a few times. “I saw the sentries. Guess I thought they were for show.”

“Show?” She really believed him so vain? After a few failed assassination attempts on his life, he’d learned the vital importance of relying on his guard.

“Relian doesn’t have that many guards, if any,” she said as if accusing him of lying. “So why would I need tons more?”

“He doesn’t have any? Of course he does, though not as numerous as mine.”

She scowled. “But I don’t see any trailing him.”

“You won’t. Most of the time, our guard melts into the background. That is their function—to protect but not be obtrusive.”

“Oh.” She bit her lip, her brow scrunching up. “Ah-ha! Relian took Cal to a waterfall that was way outside town, and they didn’t have guards following them. How do you explain that?”

He nearly groaned. Of course, she’d pick the one time Relian had left his guard behind, much to Talion’s disapproval. “How can you be so sure a few didn’t follow at a distance that wasn’t detectable?”

“Because I remember Relian was freaked out and wanted to get Cal safely back to the palace.”

“It is possible to order our guard to stand down, but it isn’t wise.”

“So you’re saying that was what Relian did?”

“Yes.”

She threw him a hateful smile. “So I can do the same thing. I’ll just tell them to stand down.”

His hands fisted. Did she have to fight him on everything? “No you won’t.”

“Yes, I will. I don’t want to be watched every moment of the day. It’s freaky, and I won’t allow it.”

Anger flooded his bloodstream, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “You won’t allow it?”

An expression of unease played over her face, but it fled as she tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Yes.”

“You’re having a full guard, and that is the end of it.”

“No, it isn’t!”

He grabbed her by the arms and hauled her toward him. “You better not try me farther.”

Her eyes widened as if she had become aware of the precarious ground she was perched on. If she only knew the truth of his analogy. The loyal eyes of his guard were the least of his worries. He released her arms and framed her face between his hands before she could to pull away. Maggie tried to turn her head away, but he held fast and made her look at him. “You must accept your position and all it entails.”

Her mouth set in a mutinous line. “After what you did, I don’t have to do anything.”

“Wrong. Hate as me you will, but you will do as I say when it comes to your safety.”

She clawed at his hands. “I hate you so much. Everything about you and your stupid position sucks.”

He forced himself to shrug, though her words cut deep, and let go of her face. “Be that as it may, all my precautions are necessary and much better than having a knife in the back.”

She flinched, but didn’t say anything more about the guard. “I don’t buy your lame excuses.”

“My reasons are valid.” He paused, trying to decide how much to tell her about Eamon’s letter. “There was—”

Turning on her heel, she presented him with her back, and cut him off. “Whatever.”

Ire at her disrespectful demeanor made him itch to spin her around, but touching her again would only fuel her anger. “If you would just listen to—”

“Yeah right, I’m done listening.”

He almost said, “No, you’re not,” but snapped his mouth shut before the childish retort escaped his lips. “I refuse to engage in this juvenile game.”

She faced him slowly, her body shaking. “Juvenile? I’m the one being juvenile? You had no right to spring that announcement on me in front of a gazillion people. That’s no way to find out. I should’ve known your intention way before getting on that platform. You blew my trust to smithereens and don’t seem to give a shit.”

A sliver of fear entered his heart. Had he irrevocably lost all her trust? By Eria, he hoped not, but he’d had no choice. Why couldn’t she see that? “I’ve told you my reasons for doing so.” And wouldn’t continue to repeat them. He’d apologized, but she wouldn’t acknowledge the wisdom of anything he said.