Page 62 of Kingdom Of Veil And Vow

Something cracks. Wood hitting wood so jarringly that it startles Commander Miles, and he jumps back, strands of my hair yanking from my head as he does. Xander steps into the room, filling the doorway with a miraculous rage. I feel it pulsing in the air around me, and even in this drugged state, my animal purrs at the sight of him. Anger and malice. Unrelenting fury radiating from every pore. He steps forward, sword already in hand, his gaze flicking to mine and then widening as he takes in my current state. “I told you to leave her alone,” he growls, backing the commander up one step. Then two. “You’re fucking dead.” And then he lunges, his sword a flash of gold that flickers in the amber light pouring down from above.

My eyes shut in anticipation of the fatal hit, but the clang of metal meeting rings out instead. Forcing myself to look, I take in both men as they strain to defend against the other.

“Oh, this is too good,” Commander Miles says with a crazed laugh that turns into a grunt as Xander backs him into the wall. I can’t turn my head more than an inch to see them, but I watch as they trade off blows, power shifting between them until they come crashing back in the forefront, both gripping their swords in both hands tightly. “You’re fucking predictable.”

Xander kicks out, and the commander shouts, spinning with a low duck to elude the next swing before popping up again at my side, the cold bite of metal now resting at my throat.

“Move another inch, and she dies.”

Xander’s eyes meet mine, wild with desperation as he points his weapon at the madman at my side. “Drop the sword.”

Commander Miles tsks, angling the blade close enough that I hiss at the contact. “I will slit her throat. I have no reason to keep her alive, not when turning you in to the king will fetch a far higher price.”

“You won’t make it out of this room alive, Commander,” Xander snaps. But his usually steady heartbeat rages, and his normally disciplined demeanor cracks as his eyes lower to the weapon at my throat.

“So how shall we explain this to the king?” he asks, ignoring Xander’s threat. “Did you attempt to take the information she knew about Rhea to someone else? A double crossing?” He laughs, his free hand sliding into my hair again and gripping the strands tightly at the roots. Xander’s knuckles whiten around the hilt of his own weapon, his jaw flexing in anger. “No, I don’t think it was that. Did she seduce you? Promise you a peek at that pretty body if you freed her?” Xander’s glare turns murderous, but when he moves to step forward, my whimper stops him, the commander yanking my head to the side. “I can’t say I blame you if that is the case. She is rather delectable looking. Did she tell you we all got our fill of her that first night?”

“Shut up,” Xander growls, but it only spurs the commander on.

“After all, that’s what happened with Marigold, isn’t it?” The blood drains from Xander’s face, prompting another taunting laugh from the commander. “I’m afraid word got around about that. You promised her the sun and moon, all without realizing she was actually working for the king.” Shame burns bright in Xander’s eyes, and his sword lowers a fraction, my stomach falling with it. “It must be hard, never knowing if a woman is with you because she wants to be or because she wants something from you. That’s an embarrassment that must be hard to carry with you day in and day out.” The commander shakes his head in false pity, and my magic pulses deep in my chest, the instinct to hurt him roaring within my useless body. “So, here is what is going to happen. You’re going to save whatever scraps of dignity you have left and lower your sword, and then we will have a little chat about the future for you”—he turns and plants his lips on my temple—“and for her.”

Xander doesn’t move, nothing beyond his breath coming too fast. Too harsh. I ache to tell him not to do it, try to convey the message with my eyes, but ever since Marigold was mentioned, he won’t look at me. “Fine,” he mutters, shoulders drooping. “You win.”

The sword at my throat drops an inch as the commander celebrates with a grating chuckle. “Ah, you see?” he asks, watching as Xander’s back rounds and he moves to lay his sword down on the ground. “I knew you could be reasoned with.” Commander Miles’s arm drops farther, until I no longer feel the blade’s cold presence near my skin at all.

Xander finally looks at me then, something flashing in his gaze before he releases his sword and it goes crashing onto the ground. I hear the commander suck in a surprised breath, but Xander’s hand is already at the outside of his thigh, drawing the dagger tucked into its sheath. Time halts, each second only punctuated by the sound of my beating heart. One. Xander cocks his arm back. Two. Gold speeds by, the spinning blade coming right at me as the commanders fingers flex in my hair. Three. There’s a squelch as the dagger finds its mark, the commander’s heart lurching at the impact. Then he coughs, blood splattering my cheek. Four. Xander’s there, hand reaching for the sword lowered to my side, yanking it out of the commander’s grasp as he spins the heavy weapon in his hand. Five. He swings, metal singing as it glides through the air until it all comes to a head, time catching up as the commander makes a gurgling gasp and then falls to the ground, ripping more of my hair out as he does.

“Siyala.” Throwing the sword down, Xander quickly reaches for the restraints at my wrists. “Are you okay?”

“He g-gave me something. I can’t—” A muscle twitches in Xander’s jaw, but he nods in acknowledgement at what I can’t voice, undoing the straps at my ankles and then catching me as I lean forward.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs into my hair. “I should have gotten here sooner. He never should have hurt you.”

“Rhea,” I blurt out, my stomach dropping when his eyes are slow to meet mine. “Is s-she—” My bottom lip trembles, the fear and uncertainty bubbling up within me so harshly that I can’t even finish the question.

“She’s alive,” he says, giving me a small nod as if to make sure I understand. “King Dolian is telling everyone that she is dead, but to what end, I don’t know. It was my plan to tell you as soon as I could, but it appears Miles beat me to it.” The relief I feel temporarily washes away the pain as I release a breath, my chin falling to my chest. “We need to get you cleaned up.” Carefully, he lifts me to a stand, my hands coming up to clutch his arms. “Can you walk at all?”

I wiggle my toes and fingers, but the limited movement isn’t enough to keep me upright. “I can’t,” I whisper, defeated. “It’s better than before, but…” My throat works with a dry swallow.

“We have time.” It’s a lie. We both know it, but I don’t protest as Xander carefully sets me back down on the chair. “I hate doing this, but I want to look at your wound, and unless you want to go back to your cell—”

“It’s fine,” I interject, leaning back against the chair. I don’t want to be here—of course, I don’t want to be in my cell. But what else can we do? Where else can we go?

“It isn’t fine,” he says softly, rising to shut the door to the room and lock it. Then he walks over to a small desk in the corner, opening all the drawers as he searches for what I assume are supplies to treat my injuries. I look down at them, grateful that the bleeding has begun to slow. But the sight of the ravaged skin at my thigh stirs nausea, so I focus on Xander instead. “Nothing about this is fucking fine.” Slamming a drawer shut, he returns and kneels in front of me, carefully setting his findings on the edge of the chair. “How bad does it hurt?”

“Not so much now.” He sends an arch look my way. “Fine, it hurts. But nothing I can’t handle.”

That doesn’t seem to make him feel better. Carefully peeling away the fabric coated in my blood, his fingers tremble as he tries to control the anger that seeps out in his expression. “I wish I could kill him again but take my time,” he says, his voice low.

I manage to twist my head to look at where the commander’s body lies, a dagger still embedded in his throat and blood pooling around his lifeless body. The realization of what just occurred fully hits me as I return my gaze to Xander, a rush of emotion filling my chest. “You killed him.”

He swallows and nods. “I’m sorry you had to see it. Had to see another death so close—”

“No,” I interrupt, taking a labored breath. “I don’t care that he is dead. I’m worried about what that means for you. What if the king finds out?”

“I’m not worried about the king finding out,” he says simply before standing, dark eyes moving from me to the body. “I plan to bring the dead bastard directly to him.”

Chapter Thirty-Eight: Xander