Page 68 of Kingdom Of Veil And Vow

“What?” He tugs off a small bag that is strapped across his chest. “Xander—”

“We need to leave now.”

Leave now. A ringing starts in my ears, flashes of the island, of that pink fabric tied to a light wooden beam. It all keeps me held in place as I watch him lift the blanket off the cot, revealing the books he gave me.

“Siyala, you must hurry—”

“Why?” The word comes out in a whisper, but it draws Xander’s gaze to me all the same. It’s a stupid question, one that I’m not entirely sure why I even ask, and yet I hold my breath as he sets the books back down on the cot, his hands then gently resting on my shoulders.

“Because it is time for you to be free.” His thumbs sweep over my collarbones, the touch far too tender for the gravity of this moment. “Because you have always deserved more than a cage. Physical or otherwise.” My own hands reach for his wrists, fingers curling over his exposed skin. “Because I can no longer bear the thought of you sitting here alone, at risk from the king and Simon and the other guards. I can’t protect you well enough here, but I can make sure that you get somewhere far away.” My eyes fall closed as I struggle to catch my breath, the sob threatening to break free robbing me of air. He draws me in slowly, and I loathe that his armor is placed between us, my cheek resting over the cold metal at his chest. “Please,” he begs. “We have to go.”

I might have fought him more if it weren’t for the desperation present both in his voice and on his face when we finally separate. He hands me a cloak, which I fasten as he works on tucking the books into the bag before slipping it around my body. Then he asks for me to hold out my hand. Reaching behind him, he pulls out a small dagger set in a light leather sheath, the handle of it slim and black.

“If anyone dares to give you trouble at the docks or on the ship, I want you to use this.” He slides the blade free, showing me the length of it. The silver looks polished to perfection, the edge impossibly sharp. Pushing it back in, he lifts the flap of the satchel and places it inside the bag. “No one will ever take what is yours ever again,” he says, and gods, his conviction works to soothe my own nerves. “Promise me.”

I swallow, my eyes bouncing between his. “I promise,” I tell him, if only to have him continue looking at me that way. As if I’m not some broken creature but a fierce female.

Reaching for my hand, he leads us out of the cell and into the torture room, through the tunnel and then into the secret space. “There are extra provisions in your bag,” he says, shutting the tunnel door behind him, “as well as some coin. There is a guard stationed at the entrance of the docks named Alaric. He will let you pass with the code word honey.”

“Honey?” I interrupt, eyebrow arching. “Why that word?”

Xander flushes as he guides me towards the other hidden door in the room. “Because,” he drawls, searching for the door’s edge before pressing in on one of the stones, “it is what your eyes remind me of.” I bite down on my lip to stop my grin from growing, pretending to instead feign surprise at the second hidden door. Xander catches my expression, and his own lips quirk. “I know you knew this was here. You think I didn’t notice the sweet potato stain?”

Mouth dropping open, I let him pull me into the tunnel, watching as he lights a torch before shutting the door behind us. Even hunched over from the lower ceiling, he still towers over me, and my heart dips at the amount of space he takes up. At how he could easily pull me to him, devouring every one of the soft curves on my body with the muscular planes of his own.

“Pay attention,” he orders quietly, holding the torch out so that shadows dance along the cut of his jaw. “Once you’re past Alaric, you will go to the ship with the shifter sigil. I assume you know what that is?”

“An oryx,” I murmur, my cousin’s face flitting into my mind and prompting a worried question. My pulse quickens. “Is Kai still king?” He hadn’t been in the role long before I left, and I knew just from the bits and pieces of conversation I overheard from my mother that it was not a position he necessarily wanted.

Xander’s brow arches at the familiarity of Kai’s name on my tongue. “Yes. Do you know him?”

“Well, he is the king,” I retort, earning a glare that makes me smile. Xander’s gaze drops to my lips again, the column of his throat working with a swallow. “He is my cousin.”

At that admission, he jerks his head back, eyes blown wide. “I’m sure he will be absolutely delighted to know that a family member has been imprisoned and hurt by the mortal king.”

“It has been a long time since we’ve spoken,” I say, my fingers flexing where Xander still holds my hand. “Maybe he won’t care about me at all.”

He studies me, likely seeing far too much written on my face. But I’m already exhausted by the prospect of telling Kai what I have been doing for the past four years. By the idea of being home at all. “Then he would be a fucking fool.”

As we continue forward, I notice markings that weren’t in the tunnel connecting the dungeon to the hidden room. Red, blue, and green smudges line the jagged stone walls, particularly where the tunnel splits in various directions.

“It’s a map,” he says, holding the torch out in front of him, “to tell us which portion of the castle we’re beneath or where each tunnel might end.”

I study the colors as we come to a fork, my steps faltering as something catches my attention. Squeezing Xander’s fingers, I force us to a stop, leaning closer to him as I listen more intently.

“What is it?” he whispers, angling the flame so that he can better see my face.

Brows scrunching, I turn my head so that my ear is pointed toward the tunnel to our right, my lips parting with a breath. “Someone else is here.”

Xander’s head turns to look down the tunnel, his shoulders growing rigid. “It isn’t uncommon for people of the resistance to use these tunnels…” But he doesn’t finish that thought, instead angling himself in front of me as he eyes the other tunnel to our left. “It goes in the opposite direction we need,” he whispers, frustration evident. “Draw the hood over your head.”

Letting go of his hand, I pull the hood of the cloak up and tuck my hair into it. He switches the torch into his left hand, reaching for the dagger strapped to his leg with his right. I eye the sword attached to his hip, but the tunnel isn’t wide enough to wield it with any kind of efficiency. My stomach pitches upwards when I peer around Xander’s arm, and a silhouette comes into view, their own torch held out in front of them guiding the way. As they are dressed in a cloak too, I can’t make out their features, but I hear the way their heart beats steadily, like they are unsurprised by our presence.

When they are only a few feet ahead of us, Xander’s fingers twitch and his chest rises with a sharp inhale. “Best to state your name before it is too late to do so,” he says, the deep rumble of his voice echoing off the stone. The person comes to a stop, drawing their flame a little closer as they reach up and drop the hood of their cape. “Alden?” Xander says, and though it is clear he recognizes this man, there is tension when he speaks the name. A threat and a question all wrapped up in one.

Alden’s eyes flick to mine, the corners of his mouth dropping to a frown before settling into a tight line as he lifts his chin. “Well, it seems my accusations weren’t so farfetched after all.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Alden, and it’s best you leave now before you get the wrong idea.”