Page 226 of Blade of the Nightking

He stepped back and beckoned with an impatient wave of his hand. The remaining weapons were brought to him and laid out at his feet like trophies.

He pointed toward the reef wall and barked another order.

Rìan held his ground.

The guard behind me buried his fist deeper in my hair and hauled me brutally to my feet. Pain exploded across my scalp as he dragged me back against his chest. The stench of sweat and unwashed skin rolled off him, thick enough to turn my stomach. His nose brushed the side of my neck as he inhaled slowly, a low, satisfied chuckle rumbling through his chest as I struggled in his grasp.

His hand closed over my breast, squeezing hard enough to make me cry out.

“Don’t fucking touch her.” Rìan started forward, but the commander swung the tip of Rìan's iron blade toward me. He stopped instantly, every muscle in his body rigid, before slowly retreating until his back met the coral wall.

The guard kneaded my breast painfully. Murder blazed in Rìan's eyes.

The commander's grin widened. He weighed Rìan's blade thoughtfully, turning it over in his hands. Then, without warning, he drew his arm back and hurled it across the distance between them.

The blade buried itself in the wall beside Rìan's head, embedding itself mere inches from his face.

My magic reared violently inside me.

The men roared with laughter, but Rìan didn't so much as blink. He stood unmoving, every line of his body taut with fury and defiance.

The commander selected another dagger, a second iron blade—shorter and more slender than the first.

This throw came faster.

The knife flashed through the air and buried itself on the opposite side of Rìan's head.

Again, Rìan remained utterly motionless, his hands fisted at his sides. My magic thrashed inside me, terrified. I reached for it, but it scattered from my grasp like a startled bird.

The commander laughed, and the soldiers joined in with hoots and jeers.

It was obvious now. This wasn't an interrogation. It wasn't even a threat.

The commander was making sport of him.

My pulse hammered against the blade at my throat, each beat pressing my skin more firmly against its edge.

This was going to end with Rìan dead. And me along with him.

My magic screamed inside me, gathering beneath my skin like a beast clawing at its cage.

The commander reached down and selected one final iron knife.

A sick certainty settled in my stomach.

The others had been for amusement. This one was meant to kill.

Slowly, he raised the blade, taking his time as he lined it up with the space between Rìan's eyes.

Rìan seemed to understand. He looked at me then, and the bond between us pulled so hard it stole the breath from my lungs. There was no fear in his expression—not of his own death, not of the iron blade poised to end him, not even of the commander standing only a few paces away.

There was only me.

The commander spoke loudly, drawing eager grins from the soldiers, but the words seemed impossibly distant as Rìan held my eyes with an intensity that made my entire body ache.

"Elowen." My name on his lips for the first time plucked something deep within me. The reverberation rolled through my entire being, distinct from the violent convulsions of the magic beneath my skin.

A man whistled sharply. Another made a kissing noise. The guards erupted into laughter.