The king’s gaze softened, barely. “You will remain under my protection until I decide your place.” He paused briefly. “And you will not be harmed.”
He gestured again, slowly and deliberately, drawing a protective circle in the air around her before pointing to himself.
She watched, puzzled, then nodded faintly, not understanding but not wanting to upset him.
That seemed to satisfy him.
He extinguished all candles, plunging the chamber into deeper shadows lit only by the fire.
Then he took a seat in a high-backed chair beside the hearth, close enough to watch her through the night, far enough not to frighten her further.
Adira curled into herself on the pallet, watching the king from beneath her lashes, uncertain, afraid… yet somehow sensing she was safe for now.
The flames cracked softly.
King Dravic whispered to himself, “You may be the only soul in this cursed kingdom whom I can trust.”
Chapter Sixteen
The King’s Castle
The Price of Visions
* * *
Elara woke wrapped in warmth. For a moment she didn’t move, didn’t even breathe, unsure if she was in a dream. A solid arm lay heavy across her waist and the steady rise and fall of breath whispered warm against the back of her neck. The soft brush of a leg tangled lightly with hers. And beneath it all, the quiet, rhythmic thud of a heartbeat pulsed against her spine.
Dar.
Memory returned in pieces, fear, the king’s cruelty, Adira’s silent cry, the forced vows, the tense words between husband and wife. Yet here, in the gray hush of dawn, none of that existed. Only his warmth… his strength… his hold around her as though she belonged there.
Her breath hitched.
She should move. She should put distance between them.
But she didn’t, not at once. Because for this brief, fragile moment, she felt safe in a way she shouldn’t. As if the night’s storms, within the keep and within herself, had worn her thin enough that comfort found its way in.
Dar stirred behind her, his breath brushing her ear. His arm tightened instinctively, drawing her closer before he fully woke. Elara felt the slight jolt of awareness go through him, the sudden stillness in his body. A tense beat. A moment suspended.
Then, quietly, low and rough from sleep, he said, “You’re awake.”
“Aye,” she whispered, wishing her voice didn’t tremble so lightly.
He did not release her. If anything, his arm loosened only enough to be gentle… not enough to let her go. He moved his head, his breath warming her shoulder. His chest pressed to her back. And Elara felt her pulse flutter wildly, traitorously.
“This wasn’t my intent,” he murmured, his voice a mix of caution and truth.
“I know,” she said softly. And she did. For all the turmoil between them, last night had been exhaustion and fear, not desire. She had simply fallen asleep… and he had taken his place beside her as he said he would.
Still, now… lying there… it felt far too easy to remain.
He slowly withdrew his arm, giving her the space she hadn’t asked for but needed. Cold rushed in where his warmth left, and she hated how her body noticed.
Before either of them could speak, a sharp pounding struck the chamber door.
“Commander Dar!” a guard’s voice shouted through the wood. “By order of the king, you and your wife are summoned to his chamber at once.”
Dar exhaled and the softness between them shattered. “The king rises early.”