6 — HITTING THE MARK

VANESSA

Nyra’s ultimatum still echoed in my head the next day; seven nights to kill the King.

My belongings weren’t much. Just a few dresses and shoes I’d snagged from a store on my way.

By the time evening came, I found myself walking alongside several noble guests invited for a festival in the palace. I had Noel to thank for that. A few of us were granted a private tour of the palace.

“And now over here, we can see different artifacts, ranging from the Ceremonial Crown of King Alaric III,” the guide said, making us stop in front of a tempered glass with a label.

Boredom was eating me to shreds from within and here I was, forced to nod like an idiot and play along, stuck with mediocre thinking people who had the notion that everything which collected dust on a shelf in a palace as old as this was an artifact.

It took practiced discipline to not yawn in disinterest.

The guide moved again. “Come along. Here are the Royal Decree Scrolls. These documents helped to formalize alliances across…”

“Signet rings of the past kings. They were worn by the rulers as a symbol of…”

A woman asked a question which the guide replied to. Meanwhile, I was lost in my own mind, staring intently at a tapestry art of a man who exuded power, being hunted by a pack of large dogs.

Wait…not dogs. Wolves.

And when I looked closer, I saw he wasn’t being hunted, neither were the animals running. He hunted and they, alongside him, were his allies.

I did hear a thing or two about men being fed to a certain King’s exotic pets. Was this the man?

“Aha! She found it first.” I turned my head to see the tour guide approaching. “Tapestry of a royal hunt. This is a popular depiction of royal dominance over the wild. You see…”

But something else had caught my interest again. Something quite intriguing.

The tapestry was at the entrance of a dimly lit passageway with a portrait at the very end.

One I just noticed.

I looked at the tour guide and the other guests to find them all engrossed. Before anyone noticed, I slipped in, glad to be hidden in the darkness that quickly covered me.

Straight to the photo I went.

“King Leonidas, First of His Name, King of Valenreach, Sovereign of the Eastern Crown,” I read to myself before raising my eyes to behold the King.

At first I was dumbstruck at the face staring back at me. If it weren’t for the picture, I’d have thought this was the man I came to kill.

However, it was dated far back to the 18th century which put me at ease.

His eyes were the color of a frozen lake under a midday sun, like frosted ice. So alluring that if you looked too much, you could easily be pulled in.

It felt so…alive.

By the time I was done scouring through the other portraits on the wall, I’d lost track of time and couldn’t trace my way back in the maze of old photos.

How did I let myself get carried away?

Every passageway felt like the last, twisting into each other so intricately that it confused me. And I am never confused.

Ever.

But here I was lost and trapped.

“Dang it!” My phone’s signal had gone AWOL as well.

“What are you doing skulking around? You’re not supposed to be here.”

I spun around so fast I nearly gave myself a whiplash. Leonidas. Standing a few feet from me with hands deep in pocket and harsh lines on his face as he stared down at me.

Not wanting to look shaken, I straightened and schooled my expression into calmness. “I wasn’t skulking. I was on a tour with the others and somehow lost track of time staring at these.”

His eyes followed the motion of my hand to the photos on the wall, still glaring.

The fact that he was in a sour mood even after seeing me brought an emotion I wouldn’t like to name.

It was a different reaction from what I’d hoped.

‘What? Did you think he’d jump into your arms after breaking your promise and leaving last night?’

I shook my head to dispel the thoughts. What he thought of me was the least of my concern.

A dead man wouldn’t bother himself about such things after he’s gone.

I, however, was here to fulfill my own part of the Serpent Sister’s bargain. Afterall, there was no one else to act as a witness.

Clearing my throat, I said, “If Your Grace pleases, he could—Leonidas?” I stepped back in alarm. “Are you okay?”

Clearly he wasn’t. Not with the way he shook his head and groaning, making grunt-like coughs.

“Leo?”

With a snarl, he slammed a hand into the wall beside my head. I remained put, my heart pounding in terror as I stared into a stranger’s face.

Both eyes glowed the strangest shades of red. Almost illuminating his face.

In place of the handsome man I’d danced with was something else snapping at my face, tiny debris falling off the wall as his finger—claws dug into it.

This…this wasn’t Leonidas. This was a fucking demon. Pushing my fear aside, I reached under my dress to produce the dagger I’d brought with me.

Without thinking twice, I buried it deep into Leonidas’ chest, watching as it slid in without obstruction.

His gaze shot back to mine, sharpening with murderous anger as though he was going to swipe those large claws and my head would be gone.

The anger in that gaze was choking.

Then without warning, his eyes softened around the edges into something almost…reverent. Like he was just seeing me for the first time. Like I was some holy relic.

Clawed hands cradled my face.

Eklektos mou.

The words slithered their way into my mind, sinking hooks into my head and staying rooted.

Fire raced through my blood, heating every inch of my skin like his touch was gasoline and those muttered words were the strike of the match.

He pulled out the knife embedded deep within his body and said, “Mine.”