Page 138 of Destiny of a King

He was met with silence and his temper flared.

He raised his sword, not in attack but in warning. “I asked who commands you.”

A large warrior stepped forward. “You will come with us.”

Dravic’s eyes narrowed. “You mistake your position.”

The man looked almost amused. “Do I?”

“Aye.” Dravic lowered the point of his sword, though his grip remained firm around the hilt. “You stand on Scotara soil before the King of Scotara. You will take me to whoever commands you.”

“You are in no position to give orders.”

“I am king. I am always in a position to give orders.”

Adira’s heart pounded despite the fear gripping her. That was Dravic. Surrounded, outnumbered and with no idea where they were being taken, and still no man standing there could make him appear anything less than a king.

The warrior’s gaze shifted past him to Adira.

Dravic immediately stepped back closer to her. “Look at me when I speak to you.”

The man’s gaze returned to him.

“You want me?” Dravic said. “You have me. But no one touches her.”

“We were told to bring both of you.”

Dravic went still. So, Adira was part of this. He had feared that might be so ever since she was almost abducted. But why? Why would anyone want Adira?

“Take us to the man who gave the order,” Dravic commanded.

The warrior motioned to the others and several warriors moved forward.

Dravic lifted his sword and they stopped.

“I will walk willingly. She stays beside me, and no one lays a hand on her.”

The warrior nodded.

He agreed far too quickly. A sure sign that the warrior had been given orders not to harm them. Someone wanted them alive.

Dravic sheathed his sword and reached back without looking. Adira slipped her hand into his, and his fingers closed firmly around hers.

Whatever waited for them deeper in Morvane land, they would face it together.

And this time, Dravic intended to get answers.

They were marched for what seemed like forever, never resting, never stopping for a quick drink from a stream, never saying a word. Until now, when the forest gave way and a castle rose ahead of them.

“Faster,” the one who led them ordered, anxious to be home.

As Dravic picked up the pace, Adira doing the same beside him, he stared at the castle that was smaller than Caerith but formidable, built of dark stone with high walls and guards stationed along the battlements. More warriors waited inside the gates, far more than Dravic expected to find gathered in one place.

They had barely entered the bailey when shouts erupted.

“My king!”

“Release the king!”