“This audience is concluded. You have your answer—in seventeen days, you’ll have your decision. Until then, I suggest you remember I am still your king, and Jessa Rowan is undermy protection. Anyone who threatens her will answer to me personally.”
I turn and stride from the chamber, leaving them in shocked silence. But I can feel their eyes on my back, can sense the calculations already beginning. They won’t wait seventeen days—they’ll act sooner, try to force my hand or eliminate the threat they perceive in Jessa.
The thought sends cold fury racing through my veins.
Let them try.
In my private chambers, I collapse into a chair before the fireplace, the weight of the confrontation settling over me like lead. The choice they’ve given me is impossible—crown or mate, duty or love, the realm’s stability or my happiness.
But as I sit there in the dancing firelight, feeling the bond pulse warm and steady in my chest, I realize the choice isn’t impossible at all.
It’s already been made.
I’ve spent three centuries serving others, sacrificing my own needs for the greater good. I’ve been the perfect king, the dutiful ruler, the selfless guardian of traditions that were ancient when I was born.
And I’m tired of it.
Jessa doesn’t see a king when she looks at me—she sees a man. Amate. Someone worthy of love not because of what he can do for others, but simply because of who he is. For the first time in my immortal life, I’m valued for myself rather than my crown.
The council thinks that makes me weak. They’re about to discover how wrong they are.
Because a king who has something to protect—someone to fight for—is the most dangerous ruler of all.
CHAPTER 11
JESSA
Something’s wrong.
The knowledge hits me like a physical blow, doubling me over in the middle of folding laundry at my cabin. The bond in my chest burns with emotions that aren’t mine—rage, betrayal, a despair so deep it makes my eyes water. Aelin’s emotions, flooding through our connection with an intensity that leaves me gasping.
He’s in pain. More than pain—he’s breaking apart, and I can feel every fracture like it’s happening to my soul.
I drop the shirt I’m holding and grab my coat, not bothering to lock the door behind me as I run for my truck. The engine turns over on the third try, and I send up a silent prayer of gratitude as I tear down the forest road toward his palace.
The winter realm opens for me now, the wards recognizing me as his mate and parting like curtains. I’ve only been to the palace once before, but the bond guides me through the crystalline corridors with unerring accuracy. Servants scatter from mypath, their wide eyes taking in my human appearance with a mixture of fear and fascination.
I don’t care. Let them stare. Let them gossip. Right now, all that matters is getting to him.
I find him in what must be his private study, a room lined with ancient books and artifacts that gleam with their own inner light. He’s standing before a massive fireplace, one hand braced against the mantel, his shoulders rigid with tension. The air around him shimmers with barely contained power, and frost covers every surface in intricate, angry patterns.
“Aelin?” I whisper, and he whirls around as if I’ve struck him.
“What are you doing here?” His voice is harsh, strained, and his golden eyes burn with something that might be panic. “You shouldn’t be here. It’s not safe.”
“I felt you,” I say simply, closing the door behind me. “Through the bond. You’re in pain.”
He laughs, but there’s no humor in the sound. “Pain. Yes, that’s one word for it.” He turns back to the fire, his hands clenching into fists. “You need to leave, Jessa. Go home. Pack your things and run as far from here as you can.”
“Like hell.” The vehemence in my voice surprises me, but I don’t back down. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“You don’t understand?—”
“Then explain it to me!” I cross the room to stand beside him, ignoring the way he flinches when I get too close. “Stop trying to protect me from the truth and tell me what happened.”
For a long moment, he just stares into the flames, his jaw working like he’s trying to find the right words. When he finally speaks, his voice is raw with exhaustion.
“The council knows about us. About the bond. They’ve given me an ultimatum—renounce you and take a fae mate, or lose my crown.” He pauses, and when he continues, his voice drops to a whisper. “They threatened to kill you if I refuse.”
