Rebel Spring

She pressed her hand to her cheek, but her eyes did not fill with tears as so many others’ would. No weakness crossed her gaze as she steadily held his.

“I did not lie,” she repeated, enunciating every word. “And you will strike me again at your own peril, my king.”

There was an edge of caution in the statement, one only the most foolish would ignore.

He forced himself to calm down. “I was nearly crushed in the Temple of Cleiona during the quake. I tasted the bitterness of my own mortality.”

“But you’re not dead, are you?”

He hadn’t left the palace since that day. With the potential of rebel assassins lurking in every shadow, the threat of natural disasters striking at any given moment, he had become increasingly paranoid. He was far too close to achieving all he’d ever wanted to take any unnecessary risks.

After what had happened at the temple, his confidence had been shaken. He didn’t trust Melenia anymore. There had been a fleeting time when he considered her both an intellectual equal as well as an object of desire. When he believed she would become his next queen, to rule by his side for all eternity. A woman he might be capable of worshipping. A woman he might even be capable of loving.

No more.

Now all he wanted from her were answers.

“When,” he growled. “When do I get my hands on the treasure you’ve promised me for these many months?”

“When the road is complete.”

It was far too long to wait for any tangible proof of what she’d told him. His patience stretched thin and brittle. “How is Lucia integral to finding the Kindred? Will she sense its location with her magic? Does more blood need to be spilled to help her?”

“I already told you, my king. Blood will be spilled. Much of it. Blood is essential to our plan.”

“Tell me more. Tell me everything.”

The hint of a smile dared to curl up the corner of her mouth. “Oh, my king, you are not nearly ready to hear everything.”

“I am!” he insisted.

“Not yet. There are . . . sacrifices that must be made. Sacrifices I’m not convinced you’re prepared for.”

“What sacrifices?” He would risk anything, sacrifice anything to get what he wanted. “Tell me!”

She raised an eyebrow. “Sometimes I really don’t know why I bother with you. Perhaps it’s because you amuse me.”

He would be an amusement to no one. “You prophesized that I would rule the universe with the power of an immortal god.”

“I did, didn’t I? Strange thing about prophesies, my king. They aren’t always set in stone. Such a prophecy requires me to assist you in what must be accomplished in the mortal world, as I already have in so many countless ways. Don’t make me regret my decision.”

He wanted to kill her. To crush her between his hands. To watch the life fade from her beautiful blue eyes. To have her beg for mercy with her last breath.

Did an immortal bleed red? This too he’d like to discover.

Instead of admitting to his darkening thoughts, he lowered his head in deference. “Deepest apologies, my queen. You see how stressed I’ve become of late. How anxious I am for progress. It has been a difficult time for us all, especially with my deep concern for my daughter’s well-being. But she’s awake now and out of harm’s way. And her magic is stronger than ever.”

“I’m very glad to hear it.” She walked a slow circle around him. For the first moment in his life, he felt as if a predator was eyeing him for weaknesses.

He’d never felt like prey before.

“I need to journey to the road camp in the Forbidden Mountains to see Xanthus,” he said. “I need to speak with him, for him to show me what he’s doing, to assure me that all is progressing with the road as it should. Messages sent by raven are not enough to reassure me.”

“No, you must not go. You must remain here.”

“Why?”

Her brows drew together, her exquisite face growing very serious. “I do not wish to worry you, but . . . if you leave the confines of your palace, your prophecy is forfeit. There are countless dangers and many currently wish you dead. I promised you immortality, my king, but only if you stay secure while our plans solidify.”

He stared at her, shocked, for a long, silent moment. This was precisely what he’d feared. “So I’m to stay here, locked up, like a child that must be protected from potential dangers?”

Something unpleasant flashed through her eyes. “Inprisonment is a state I am very familiar with, my king. Believe me, your confinement will be much briefer than mine has been. If you must learn more of the road, and if you won’t take my word for such things, you can send someone you trust in your place to speak with Xanthus.”

But Gaius trusted no one.

No one—except for his children. Except for his son.

“I will send Magnus,” he said firmly. He hated that he couldn’t leave, but he didn’t doubt her warning. His mortal life was fragile, as everyone’s was. He was too close to what he wanted to risk his neck to a rebel’s blade. “When he returns from the wedding tour and joins the hunt for the rebel leader, I will have him inspect the road camp in the mountains and speak with Xanthus. He will be my official representative.”

“Very good. I hope the prince proves his worth to you on this quest,” Melenia purred. “I know you’ve had some difficulties with him.”