Page 3 of Of Ash and Embers


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He leaned toward me, and despite all my anger and hurt from what he’d done, my body tensed in anticipation. The ghost of his mouth still lingered on my lips after all these days. I hated that I couldn’t forget what had passed between us. I hated that I still yearned to feel his touch. Most of all, I hatedhim.

“Tell me,” he said with a tone as cold as steel, “was it a trick the whole time? Were you using me?”

That was the last thing I’d expected him to say. I frowned. “I could ask you the same question.”

A bitter smile curved his lips. “There’s no need to pretend anymore. I know who you are.”

My eyes widened as a dagger appeared in his hand, its hilt elaborately decorated with glittering sapphire gems. I glanced at his blade and then at his face. My boot crushed the swaying grass as I took a step back.

“Why are you carrying a dagger?” I whispered, even though I already knew the answer. I’d tried to kill him, and now he would get his revenge on me. He wanted me dead. The fae who stood before me had never been my friend. He was my enemy, and now he would shove a blade into my heart and watch me bleed out beneath a blanket of stars.

Just like I’d tried to do to him.

“Because I have no other choice.” The Mist King’s voice went sharp, and the look in his eye reminded me of who exactly I was talking to right now. He was a ruthless king who had killed thousands in the war. He might not have burned down the human kingdoms, like Oberon had told us, but he wasn’t innocent. He’d even admitted that himself. When he saw someone as his enemy, he crushed them.

And I was his enemy now. Maybe I always had been.

I fisted my hands, ignoring the flash of hurt in my heart. “If this is how it’s going to be, at least let me go down fighting.”

“Very well,” he murmured. “Arm yourself.”

When I called forth a weapon to aid me, my fucking wooden dagger appeared in my hand. Of all things. I wanted a real blade, one like the weapon Kalen held, but no matter how hard I tried to conjure something more deadly, the wooden dagger remained as stubborn and as unchanging as a statue of a king.

“That won’t do you much good.”

I could have sworn he smirked.

For once, he looked just like I’d always imagined. He was a tall, imposing figure in the mists with venom in his eyes. He was the ruthless fae who had destroyed the Kingdom of Light and had trapped the mortals of Teine beneath Oberon’s heinous rule. Gone was Kalen, the fae who had tended to my wounds, fought for my life, and braided my hair. But that Kalen had never truly existed. He’d been a lie.

“You know what, Mist King?” I whispered, too scared to speak any louder for fear he would hear the tears in my voice. “It doesn’t matter. You’re not wearing armor. If I stab you in the right spot, a wooden blade can do as much damage as one forged in steel.”

His eyes almost softened. “You always were so brave, love.”

“Don’t call me that,” I snapped.

“Don’t call me the Mist King.”

“All right. What would you have me call you then?”

“Oh, there aremanythings I would have you call me. Unfortunately, fate has decided otherwise.” He flipped the dagger, and then speared me with his sapphire gaze. “Are you ready?”

No.

“Yes.” I clutched the wooden dagger and bent my knees, bracing myself for his impending attack. We’d trained for days together. He’d shown me all his tricks. I knew how he moved and what he thought and how he approached a fight against his enemies. First, he’d feint to the right, and then he’d swoop low before he tried to gut me. If that didn’t work, he’d feint again, only this time to the left. His opponent would expect the feint after the first and shift their focus. And that would be when he’d shove his blade into the left side of their head.

I watched him, and he watched me. Only our ragged breaths filled the silence.

Mist pulsed off Kalen’s body. It seeped from his skin, got sucked right back in, and then pulsed out again and again, as if in rhythm with his heart. His face was inscrutable, but his body betrayed his emotions. The curl of his hands. The tension in his shoulders. The power that washed over me like a wave of unyielding darkness.

My hands twitched by my sides, yearning to reach out and touch him, to feel that power beneath my fingers.

And then he moved.

Kalen rushed to the right, and I smiled as I danced further right to dodge his blow. But he didn’t swoop low, like I’d expected. He stayed on the right and slammed his body into mine, knocking me off my feet. My back hit the ground. All my breath rushed out of me. I got my wooden dagger up between us just as he pinned me to the grass, his blade against my neck.

A rushing sound filled my ears as death stared me in the face.

His muscular body shifted against me. “I’m sorry. I knew you’d expect the feint.”

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