Page 82 of Destiny of a King

The prisoner never slowed.

With a savage cry he lunged for Dravic.

Cadby met him halfway and with one powerful thrust drove the blade deep into the man’s belly.

The prisoner’s eyes widened in disbelief. A gasp escaped him as blood spilled over Cadby’s sword. His knees buckled and he collapsed into the snow only a few strides from the king.

Silence swept over the clearing, no one moving.

Dravic looked not at Cadby or the dead man… but at Adira.

She was still pressed tightly against him, and he still hugged her close.

Adira no longer heard it. The strange sound had vanished as suddenly as it had come. In its place settled an eerie silence. Not the peaceful silence she had always known. The same unsettling silence that had come before the whispers first found her.

She slowly lifted her head.

Dravic looked down at her. Concern filled her soft green eyes, though not for herself.

She turned carefully in his arms, almost afraid to look,

Cadby stood over the fallen prisoner, his bloodied sword still buried in the man’s belly. Percy had risen from beside the wounded guards, while Seger came racing back with the healer and others who offered their help.

The danger was over.

Adira felt the tightness leave her body.

Dravic felt it too.

The rigid fear that had seized her only moments before eased from her as she looked upon the dead prisoner with relief.

She had been afraid, but of what? She could not have heard anything. So, what made her press herself against him when she knew full well not to touch him other than when they were alone? What had caused her such fright that she had shielded him?

Shielded him.

She had not feared for herself. If she had she would have run. Instead… she had turned to him. She had thrown herself against him. Not to seek protection but to become it.

The realization struck him with startling force. She had sensed the danger before any of them. And her first instinct had been to shield him.

Dravic’s hands came down hard on her shoulders, and he pushed her back an arm’s length.

Adira stared at him.

His eyes burned with anger.

She had seen him angry before. At stubborn councilmen, reckless warriors, enemies, but never at her.

Confusion gripped her. What had she done wrong?

The answer came fast. She had pressed herself against him. She should not have done that, not in front of others.

His fingers remained firm on her shoulders, almost painful, as his eyes searched her face demanding an answer she could not give.

His chest rose and fell with several hard breaths before he released her shoulders only to seize her arm.

“Come.”

She could not hear him, but the single word carried the force of such a strong command that she felt its power.