Mack (King #4)

I watched his large, powerful shoulders rise and fall a bit with an anguished sigh. He then snapped the curtains shut, pulling us back into his world of darkness. But now, more than ever, I ached to see his face. Did his front look just as good as his backside?

He turned and took his seat while I sat there like an eager puppy waiting for my next treat.

“Well?” I said. “What happened?”

“What do you think happened?”

Ugh. He’s toying with me. “I don’t know, Mack. That’s why I’m asking.”

I heard a grumble of displeasure from across the room. But then finally, he gave me what I wanted.

“They separated us. I was brought back to that small hut on the outskirts of their village, where I was guarded by several men. She was taken elsewhere. I spent the next several weeks begging to see her and trying to explain that she’d done nothing wrong, but they seemed more interested in me. They spoke to me and asked questions. We traded words, and I learned anything I could, treating it like a game. I would walk my fingers across my palm, pretend to drop dead on the floor, or hold something in my hands, and they would shout out words, like a sad game of pre-Hispanic charades. With my knowledge of languages, I picked up the basics quickly.”

“How many languages did you speak?” I asked.

“Sixteen.”

That was a heck of a lot of languages. “I thought you said you were from a small island.”

“Our people were known for our metalwork and pottery. We traded with merchants from as far away as Eastern China. I really spoke closer to twenty languages if you want to include dialects from nearby fishing villages.”

“Impressive.”

“Not really. My father insisted I learn so that I could better serve my brother someday—translation skills, math, reading and writing. And, of course, fighting. Everything was planned around my brother’s needs.”

Except that Mack had said he blew all that off after his parents died. It was why he’d felt too guilty to say no when Draco asked Mack to kill him.

“So you learned Happy’s language,” I said.

“Enough to communicate and learn her name was really óolal.”

He pronounced it Oh-a-lahl. A beautiful name—sounded like some kind of decadent dessert.

He went on, “And I learned enough to ask them to see her. Instead, I got a visit from Kan, óolal’s father.”

“I’m guessing he wasn’t happy?”

“He wasn’t the sort of man you’d want to cross. And considering my crime, I was shocked that I wasn’t tortured to death, my organs plucked out on an altar to appease the gods for my misdeeds.”

“Just for taking a boat?”

“No. Turned out, they didn’t care about the boat. Kan was their king, and óolal was considered sacred because of her gifts. She was thought to be the property of the gods. I apparently defiled that gift.”

Oh shit. Now I was beginning to understand why this story wasn’t going to end in a happy place. No pun intended. “So you took something that wasn’t yours.”

“Kan and I developed a strange but close friendship over the next several months while they waited for the equinox—the day to make sacrifices and atone for one’s sins in their culture. Kan asked questions about the places and people I’d seen while traveling with the Nords. He shared details about his powerful bloodline and his gifts. And every day, I asked to see óolal but was told it wasn’t time yet.”

My skin began to crawl as I envisioned where this was heading.

“Ironically, I caught some sort of illness. My guess: Malaria from the mosquitos. I didn’t live long enough to find out what would’ve happened on the equinox, but on my deathbed, Kan promised to bury me with the Artifact—that stone I carried—and mark the grave. I hoped someday someone would find it and that the gods would do the rest, making sure the stone made it back to Mia.”

“That was very generous of Kan.”

“I threatened to bring his people bad luck if he didn’t help my spirit rest soundly.”

“Did you ever see óolal again?” I asked.

Mack didn’t reply immediately, and I felt the air spike with despair. It was really fucking weird.

“I did,” he said, sounding solemn. “She must’ve heard I was dying and gotten free. The last thing I saw was her beautiful face hovering over mine. I told her I loved her, and then it happened.”

“What?”

“It was a whirlwind of screams and fighting and blood and…” He let out a breath. “Her father caught us together and slit her throat two feet from my face, screaming that her disobedience and insults to the gods would bring about suffering for their people.”

Oh god. I covered my mouth in horror.

He continued, “I was too weak to do anything but watch the blood pour from her neck. But inside, I wailed in agony. At the same time, Kan screamed violently, cursing me for putting him in the situation to have to kill his own daughter. He said, ‘You will forever walk this earth, living my pain.’ Of course, all I could hear were óolal’s final words burning deep into my soul. I think that’s when I knew that her father’s words weren’t a threat. They were real. And so were hers.”

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