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My stomach pitches as there’s no doubt Amell has been intimate with this female, and I’m flooded with jealousy and insecurity. How could I ever compete with someone like her?
The scrappy part of me—the part that lived on the streets and used a knife to chase off someone if they got too close to a dumpster I was diving in—wants to push her away.
I am given no opportunity as it’s Amell who stops her. “Back away, Yvaine. You aren’t allowed that familiarity with me.”
His words are low and deep but spoken with so much power, she scrambles away from him.
She looks confused, and I’m guessing he’s never said those words to her before. Her eyes cut to me as Amell’s hand slides from my lower back to come around my shoulder, a very distinct and protective move. Hatred blazes at me, and Amell is getting good at making those who scorn my human frailty positively loathe me. It’s clear I am special to him.
“Citizens,” he says above the chatter and music, and the room silences. “I thank you for the drink, but I have duties to attend to. Let it be known, in case it hasn’t made its way to the city streets, this human is under my protection. Any ill will done to her is done to me. Hate her, you hate me. Touch her in anger, you touch me in anger. Cause her harm, and that harm comes to me. The penalty is the Crimson River, whether you look at her with malice or you break her neck. There will be no exceptions.”
The crowd is utterly silent, and my face heats so hot, sweat beads on my forehead. I glance around, and every fae who returns my stare has a smile on their face. It’s so ridiculous, I almost laugh.
Amell takes me by the hand and pulls me out of the bar. We’re three blocks away when Amell glances down at me with a smirk, and I can’t help but giggle. He laughs and shakes his head. “Don’t take it personally. They were all told an eternity ago to hate humans, and even though most of them have never met one, it’s ingrained.”
“Okay,” I say, just glad to be out of there.
“And Yvaine…” To my surprise, he sounds distinctly uncomfortable.
I rush to reassure him. “If you want to sleep with her or any other, I won’t be mad. That’s your prerogative as king.”
Amell stops in the middle of the sidewalk, others flowing around us, and glares at me. “You want me to sleep with other females?”
“Well, no… but… I really don’t have a say in such matters.”
“But you do,” he rumbles, his hand under my chin. “I could tell you were not happy when Yvaine touched me. I felt it. And I don’t want you to be unhappy here.”
I melt a little at his proclamation, but I need clarity. “I don’t know how life works here. I’ve learned enough to know that fae have high sex drives, and you’re indiscriminate in taking lovers. I know as king, you should have what you want. I also know monogamy isn’t a thing. I just want to fit in safely, that’s all.”
Eyes softening, Amell puts his hand to the back of my neck and dips his head to kiss me. “The only thing you need to know is that you are the only one I want in my bed. If you want to call it monogamy, you have it. If you want me to smite any female who looks my way, I will.”
“You most certainly will not,” I gasp.
Amell laughs and chucks me under the chin. “You’re so cute with your little human sensibilities. But trust me, after that display in the bar, no one will come near me or you.”
I can’t do anything but nod. He’s making exceptions for me and changing rules and threatening the Crimson River. No one has ever been my champion before. No one has ever cared for me before. It doesn’t seem real.
“Come on,” he says, pulling me into his embrace. “I have to judge some souls, and you can watch.”
***
It’s bizarre beingback on the Bridge of Judgment. Twice now, I’ve been on it at Amell’s mercy with him nearly tossing me in. The third time with Will was much nicer.
I feel safe now, or at least as safe as one can be stuck in Hell where dangers lurk around every corner. I believe Amell won’t let harm come to me, so it eases my anxiety to be back out here.
I stand next to the king. He chose not to sit on his throne but stand in front of it as the recently departed are brought before him.
Those souls who might be worthy of redemption.
Calix reads the charges, and Amell is a harsh jurist. They’re brought forth by the fae guards, begging, pleading, crying for mercy. One after another they go over the edge, except Amell doesn’t flick them over with his power. He merely nods his chin that way, and the guards do the dragging and tossing. The citizens of Otaxis who came out to watch cheer each time, thriving on the carnage and display of Amell’s brutal power.
A young man is brought forth and thrown onto his knees before Amell. His hair is long and greasy, his face pockmarked, and he’s painfully thin. Instantly, I recognize the look of the streets.
Calix holds up his scroll and announces his crime.
He killed a woman in a carjacking.
Like all the others, he cries. Tears flowing, snot pouring, he begs, “Please don’t throw me in the river. I can be a better person.”
