Crowned (Beholder #4)

Some of the tension left Rowan’s face. “I’m a king. Lies go with the territory.”

“So you can lie but not me? And not just any untruth, mind you. You gave me your word that I’d be safe. And yet, you sent your palace mages after me without at least giving me a chance to prove myself.” I raised my hand, palm forward. “Just try to share power with me.”

Rowan shook his head. “You’ve cast enough spells on me to last a lifetime. But they’ve all been played against you, witch. Thanks to your enchantment, I can find you anywhere. Your soul calls to mine.”

“That’s our mate bond. It’s why you can cast tracker spells so quickly.” I raised my hand higher. My throat tightened with desire and grief. “Please. Touch me skin to skin with the intent to share power. You’ll see.”

“I don’t know what to make of you sometimes.” Little by little, Rowan set his hand on my hip. It wasn’t enough to share power—there was still the fabric of my robes between us. Plus there was the intent needed as well. Still the touch was there. It was a start.

My hand trembled as I reached toward my mate, resting my palm against his cheek. Some deep part of my soul instantly felt at rest at the skin-to-skin contact. We still weren’t sharing power, but it felt wonderful to be this close again.

“You can’t imagine how much I’ve missed you,” I said.

Rowan leaned into my touch. “This defies all logic.”

“Now you sound like a Necromancer. A wise man once told me that mate bonds aren’t something you can think through. You simply feel them and follow where they go.” I would never forget the moment Rowan gave me that advice: it was the night of our bonding ceremony, and I’d been so worried about what it meant that we were connecting and joining power. Rowan had been all things calm and confident.

Feel the mate bond and follow where it goes.

“Some wise man gave you that advice?” The barest gleam shone in Rowan’s green eyes. “And who was this brilliant philosopher?”

If I wanted to dance before, I could have jumped with joy now. Rowan was flirting with me. This was beyond wonderful. “It’s hard to remember,” I said as I wound my fingers behind his neck. “He may have been a king.”

Rowan leaned forward until our foreheads touched. “Maybe he still is.”

Wings of hope unfurled inside my chest. Rowan was starting to trust in our mate bond, even if he couldn’t remember who I was. I wanted to bottle up this moment and savor it forever. Nothing could break the ties between us.

After that, I saw it.

From the corner of my vision, I could just make out a rope ladder dangling through the layers of ferns and wide palm leaves. Nan stood at the bottom rung. Her left arm was looped around the rope while her right beckoned me closer.

She was giving me a way to escape. My breath caught. I couldn’t go without Rowan.

“Come with me,” I said. “Help me find the rest of the Sword.”

Rowan stood up straight again. My hand fell from his neck as he placed more space between us. “That’s impossible. Tell me where Jicho is, and I promise, I’ll simply let you go. No palace mages or memory spells.”

“That’s not enough and you know it.” I raised my palm again. “Just once. Try.”

The happy light drained from Rowan’s eyes. “You said it yourself before. I am a king. There are certain risks I simply can’t take, and you’re one of them.”

“What about the Sword?”

“There are other ways to fight Viktor.”

“You may be battling far more than Viktor. The Sire and Lady—”

“Please. I’m not foolish enough to think the gods care about the likes of you and me. And I’ll never go after some mythical Sword with an enchantress at my side. This isn’t a fairy tale.”

“We need that Sword.”

“No, we don’t. What I need is for you to drop this entire farce. This isn’t about a Sword or a quest. It’s about a false connection. What I told you before? It must be true. You’ve cast a spell on me.”

“I have not. Part of you knows this is the truth..”

“Drop these silly plans for the Sword and disappear back to your own lands. As long as you stay here, I can’t guarantee your safety.”

“Meaning you’ll send your mages after me.”

Rowan’s voice lowered. “You’re going after the Sword of Theodora. That weapon can kill our gods. Our gods, Elea.”

After what I’d seen with Kila Kitu, Rowan’s words heated my blood with rage. I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “Maybe those gods aren’t the paragons of virtue you suspect them to be.”

“So you admit it. You wish to kill them?” Rowan stepped away from me. “That Necromancer Petra told me that you planned to murder the Sire and Lady, but I thought she was an elderly Mother Superior who was losing her mind.”

The moment I heard Rowan’s speech, I could have kicked myself. How could I have been so foolhardy? Necromancers don’t speak without considering the implications. As a result, Rowan thinks I want to kill the Sire and Lady. “I don’t want kill any gods. Only Viktor when he attacks again.” Which he will.

“Petra doesn’t believe you. She says that the gods will take care of Viktor, too.”

“And you believe her?”

“I believe that once you have that Sword, there will be a long line of powerful mages trying to take it from you. And yes, with that much magick ready for the taking, I would be one of those mages in line.”

I searched Rowan’s eyes, trying to see the lie there. Surely, Rowan was merely trying to frighten me. But my mate was telling the truth. If I found the Sword of Theodora, it would have to be without him. And if I succeeded in getting that weapon, he’d become my enemy to boot.

From across the jungle floor, Nan waved at me more fiercely. The motion set the dangling ladder rustling through the leaves.

Rowan stiffened. “What was that?”

There was a moment locked in infinity where I debated what to do next. I could tell Rowan the truth and point out Nan. Rowan respected honestly, but it wouldn’t change his decision. On the other hand, I could somehow escape with Nan, but that would only confirm Rowan’s suspicions that I was an enchantress out to ruin him and his people.

In the end, there was no choice really. This mission was greater than me and Rowan. I simply had to betray my mate. As fate would have it, Rowan’s own brother Kade had taught me what I needed in order to escape.

First, I simply had to have one last kiss.

Going up on tiptoe, I wound my hand behind Rowan’s head, feeling the silky scruff of his short-shorn hair under my palm. After that, I kissed him, hard and fast. My soul soared inside me. Down to the very core of my being, I felt a sense of peace at being connected again to my mate.

Yes.