by Lila Jean
“And Tina, you’re the most important one of all.” Killian brushed his lips across her knuckles, the tender touch shooting tendrils of need through her core. “I need you to listen to their heart rates, not enough to glow, mind you, but just enough to feel their pulse from afar, and tell me if they rise sharply or if their pulse doesn’t match their expression.”
“You want me to be a lie detector,” she said with a grin. “That’s very clever, babe.”
“I try,” he said, chuckling. “We’ve left Ethan’s suspect for last to lure him into a false sense of security and give him time to play into our hands. Are you ready?”
“I am.” She nodded and set her hand on his shoulder. “I’ll do this if they’re lying since it’s subtle enough that they won’t notice.”
“Good.” Killian took a deep, steadying breath and leaned against the tall back of the office chair, clearly preparing himself for what would be a long afternoon of interrogation. “Let’s begin.”
Over the next few hours, a steady stream of calm but somewhat on edge eagle shifters were paraded through Killian’s office. Each of them expressed condolences and made assurances that he would be a good king, complimenting him for this, that, or the other, bringing up stories from his past as proof he will be perfect for the role.
He grilled them on the legislation that had been written since his father’s death, but no one knew who was responsible, and in fact, few had even heard of it at all or understood the complex legal terms written into the bills. As Tina tapped her magic, she felt that they were all clearly nervous, their pulses elevated but fairly even throughout the conversation, and each seemed to feel notable relief when they left.
“You need to find fewer ass-kissers,” Tina whispered in Killian’s ear before the last one came in, which made him chuckle as he wearily rubbed his eyes.
As the doors opened once more, Killian sat up straighter, and a wiry little man walked in, his back a bit hunched, a tall, pointed cap on his oversized head. He smiled warmly at Killian and offered both him and Tina a deep bow. If anything, he seemed like a kindhearted old grandfather, not an assassin, but Tina tapped into his pulse anyway. So far, his heart rate was the same as the others, elevated but even.
“Mr. Hanzel Talbot, good evening,” Killian said with a slight nod of his head. “It’s been awhile since I saw you last.”
“And you, good king, and you,” Talbot said with another bow and another broad smile. “I’m so relieved to have you home.”
His pulse spiked, briefly dancing out of control.
A lie.
Tina subtly brushed her fingers against Killian’s back, masking the movement as her doing nothing more than adjusting in her seat beside him. He briefly tilted his head ever so slightly toward her, but besides that, he didn’t make any move to acknowledge the touch.
“Talk to me about this legislation,” Killian said, pressing on. “I’m afraid I don’t understand what it means or why you wrote it and pushed it to my brother to sign.” He tossed the paper onto the desk.
Talbot briefly lifted it, eyes scanning the pages as he frowned. “I think there has been a misunderstanding, Your Majesty. I have no idea what this is, and I was under the impression dear Ethan asked for this to be drafted. Was that incorrect?”
Another wild dance of his heart.
Another lie.
Once more, Tina found an excuse to subtly brush Killian’s shoulder, now beginning to suspect it would become increasingly difficult to do so subtly.
“I dearly hope it’s no more than a miscommunication,” Killian said, leaning his elbows on the table. “Because I lied a moment ago.”
“Oh? What about, my liege?” To his credit, Talbot had a masterful poker face, and he looked at Killian with what seemed to be genuine concern. Internally, however, his heart was beating its own little drum solo, and Tina once more brushed Killian’s shoulder in warning.
“I’m incredibly adept with legal contracts and legislation,” Killian said, wrinkling his nose in distaste. “I know exactly what this bill proposes, and it’s is disgraceful, using complex terminology and loopholes to grant eagle lands and resources to a third-party corporation.” He wove his fingers together, glaring at the advisor over them. “A shell corporation, in fact, and I suspect I know who truly owns it.”
“D-do you?” This time, Talbot’s shell cracked, ever so slightly, and a glimmer of worry crossed his face.
“Talbot, are you responsible for this?” Killian tapped the paper now lying on his desk. “Are you tied to it in any way?”
“No, absolutely not, sire!”
His pulse raced out of control.
Another lie. Another brush on Killian’s shoulder.
For a moment, the room was silent, filled with nothing but the sound of Talbot’s increasingly ragged breathing, and Tina suspected that her services as a lie detector wouldn’t be necessary for much longer. Killian let the moment linger, let the silence weigh on Talbot’s conscience, his impressive and formidable form as intimidating as any legal prosecutor.
“Tell me something,” Killian said, slowly reclining, his chin slightly lifted as his gaze scanned the small man before him.
“Anything, my king,” Talbot said imploringly, his heart finally steady again, no doubt grasping for a chance to redeem himself.
“How did you kill my father?” Killian’s jaw tensed. “Who did you hire, and how was it done?”
“T-that is quite an allegation!” Talbot’s hand began to tremble, and he seemed unable to speak for several moments. “I would never, could never do something of that nature, especially not to my king!”
Another lie. This time, Tina just sighed in annoyance, and Killian looked at her briefly, clearly getting the gist.
“Really? Hmm.” Killian stood and slowly walked around the table, Talbot shaking in place as Tina’s prince reached the door and opened it wordlessly to find Anthony with two men by their collars.
Her wolf threw them onto the floor seconds before Draven walked in with another, and Flynn with a fourth. Zane followed up with two more. The six sniveling men on the ground shook, their heads lifted, eyes wide with fear as they surveyed their new king.
“Friends of yours?” Draven asked with a wry smile as he shut the door behind them.
“I intercepted several messages,” Zane said with a nod to the two he’d brought in. “All sent to Noxxom or a known subsidiary.”
“You told me you would tell me anything,” Killian said, turning his dark and deadly gaze on Talbot. “So, tell me how you killed my father, and do it quickly.”
“I didn’t!” Talbot bumped against the desk, and Tina stood instinctively as he got closer. “I never would harm my king, never, and to accuse your father’s oldest advisor of treason, my king, the courts will not be pleased!” He gestured out the window and, as he spoke, Tina could feel his heart bouncing in his chest. “For this to be your first act as king, all I can say is it won’t bode well!”
With that, Tina officially had enough.
Without a word, she reached her hand toward him, dipping into her magic, sweeping aside patience to get to the heart of the matter, so to speak. With a wry smile at her little pun, Tina accelerated the man’s heart rate, driving him toward his limit, which was admittedly weak since he wasn’t particularly healthy or fit. He gasped and fell to his knees, briefly looking at her in shock. Tina stared down at him, both bored and disgusted with him, determined to make him tell the truth one way or another.
“Speak,” she commanded. “I’ll know when you’re lying.”
For several seconds, he simply gasped for air, and Tina briefly wondered if she were pushing him too hard for his frail little body, but he finally broke the silence. “The pay was too good,” he wheezed. “They offered me five million for simple coordination, just a little nudge here, an unlocked door there, nothing major. I never … I never could have guessed …”
“I said don’t lie!” Tina snapped, flooring his heart rate momentar
ily, too pissed off to let him get away with anything.
“Okay!” He sobbed, clutching at his heart, wheezing. “I knew! I knew what they wanted and I looked the other way, but I swear, I never killed your father, I never touched him!”
“But you did betray him,” Zane pointed out, arms crossed from his place by the door.
Killian, however, was silent. He glared at Talbot with a look of unchecked hatred, his hands balled into tight fists, the muscles in his arms and neck flexed as though he would explode at any moment, and Tina wasn’t even sure he was breathing. When he finally spoke, his voice was low, tinted with only the barest hint of the emotion he must have felt.
“The only reason you are not dead is that, unlike you, I am a man of honor. You will get a trial, as will they.” He nodded toward the six sniveling shifters on the floor as he slowly stood taller, back arched, and nodded once to Tina. Begrudgingly, she released Talbot from her magic, for Killian’s sake. “In the event you are found guilty, which I suspect will be quite likely, I will not be merciful with the verdict.”
“Oh please, oh please, my king, please,” Talbot sank to the ground before him, hands clasped above his head, begging for his life. “Please, have mercy, you’ve always been so kind.”
“Not to the likes of you.” Killian pressed a small, nondescript buzzer on his desk, and soldiers instantly burst through the doors, hands behind their backs as they awaited commands. Killian gestured toward Talbot and the six spies. “Take them to the prisons, and if they escape, whoever is found to be responsible will be tried for treason as well.”
The soldiers nodded and grabbed the prisoners one by one, dragging them into the hall as they begged and pleaded for the freedom they didn’t deserve. When only Tina and her princes remained, she hurried to Killian’s side and set her hand on the side of his face, pressing her head against his chest as she tried to soothe him. He hugged her tightly, letting out a deep breath as he buried his face in her hair, and she was just grateful for that mess to be over.
“It seems we have another ally,” Killian said, not lifting his face from her hair. “It seems the king of the eagles is on our side now, too.”
As the room breathed a collective sigh of relief, Draven just chuckled. “Show off.”
17
Tina
As Tina lay in Killian’s bed, in his old bedroom rather than the king’s suite for obvious reasons, he simply stared at the ceiling above him, occasionally shutting his eyes in rare moments of bliss as she ran her finger along his face. They hadn’t spoken for at least an hour, Tina careful to leave him to his grief, especially now that the culprit had been caught, and she was doing her best to soothe the white knight who had so often soothed her. She kissed his neck, tenderly brushing her lips across his skin, her body buzzing each time his warm skin touched hers.
Still, he stared up at the ceiling, clearly lost in dark and gloomy thoughts, the bags under his eyes proof he hadn’t slept much, if at all, since the announcement about his father was made.
“You’re not alone,” she said, her voice loud and sudden in the tense silence, and even Killian jumped a little, his gaze shifting to her for the first time since he’d lost himself in his grief and begun brooding. “You can’t lose yourself in the sadness, Killian, not when there are so many here who love you.” She kissed his shoulder, letting her touch linger. “Not when there are so many who want to help you through it.”
“I’m not very good at accepting help,” he admitted with a sigh. “Even back in Epara, during the contest, it took me ages to reach out to Zane, and he didn’t get the whole picture for quite a while.” Killian sighed. “Months, actually. If I had talked to him sooner, maybe the diplomats would still be alive.”
“Stop.” She climbed on top of him, straddling him, pinning his arms to the pillows even though she knew she wasn’t even remotely strong enough to keep him in place against his wishes.
“What do you mean?” He didn’t move, didn’t push her off, but just looked at her intently, a little surprised.
“Stop beating yourself up,” she ordered. “Stop blaming yourself for things out of your control, things you couldn’t even solve with perfect hindsight.”
“I should have done better.” He bit the inside of his mouth, creating a little indent in his cheek as he glared off the side of the bed.
“Killian, you’re perfect.” She gently grabbed his jaw and turned it until he faced her once more. “You’re everything to me, and even though you feel alone right now, alone in your loss, alone in your grief, you’re not.”
He easily slid his wrist out from under her hand, but instead of pushing her away as she had half-expected, he held her waist, taking a deep breath as he nodded, his red-hot touch smoldering against her bare skin. “You’re right.” He laughed, however briefly, and it gave her a glimmer of delight to see him smile again. “You’re always right, aren’t you?”
“Usually.” She grinned and kissed him, each careful brush of her lips against his sensual and deep, warm and inviting, full of love and affection.
As they kissed, she melted into him, purely at peace and feeling more connected to him than ever, her hands slowly exploring his hard chest as she craved more of him. It wasn’t raw, wasn’t feral, but she still immersed herself in the sheer beauty of the moment, in the physical expression of deep and eternal love as they became one.
Tina didn’t even feel him lift her skirts until he thrust himself into her, and as she gasped with pleasure, she could feel the subtle pulses of his cock twitching within her. The pause was brief, and she quickly lost herself again in his kisses, in his intoxicating scent, in the way his hands cradled her hips, controlling her movements even while she was on top of him.
Their passion built into a crescendo and Tina didn’t care to wonder if or when the orgasm would come. For once, she didn’t care, lost in him as she was, utterly and completely blended with the moment, with the now, with him. A tingle erupted in her navel, building slowly as he tenderly and slowly rocked his hips against hers, the base of his cock hitting her entrance with every thrust, his hands gripping her thighs and ass, moving her in a rhythm only he could control.
As she came, the orgasm rippled through her body like a gentle wave, soft and cool at first but quickly building, quickly overtaking her, taking her through wave after wave of pleasure and bliss as she moaned through their kisses, too drunk on his love to notice the world around her. When he finally released himself in her, they lay there in a happy silence, still drinking each other in.
“You heal me,” he said between breathless kisses. “You bring me peace, and I love you, Tina. I love you with everything I have.”
“I love you, Killian.” She kissed him deeply, pouring as much love into the embrace as she could. “And you will never be alone again.”
18
Killian
Deep in the vaults below the throne room, in the labyrinth of secret corridors and bare stone walls exposed to the mountain itself, Killian stood with his hands in his pockets before his father’s tomb. A statue of the king would be erected on either side of the stone coffin perched on a pedestal, one in his human and one in his eagle forms, but for now, the memorial had only an ornately carved casket made from the mountain rock, as was traditional. The king’s exploits had been carved into the side of the tomb already, a list of his triumphs that omitted his failures and mistakes, an immortal memory to only the good deeds.
Killian sighed deeply as fire flickered in the conventional sconces, since down here, tradition reigned supreme. No electricity. No modern convenience. This was a place of memory, not modernity. He stared at his father’s tomb, eyes out of focus, hands on the back of his head. He reminisced about their relationship, wishing they could have worked out their differences, disgusted by the turn of events, furious with the advisor for taking his father too soon, but in the end, such was life. If he dwelled on his pain, he would miss the now.
A secret door grated open behind Killian, and
Flynn’s voice echoed from the tunnel as the demigod stepped through. “I thought I’d never find this place. It’s a damn labyrinth you’ve got down here.”
Killian nodded in answer, not really in the mood for small talk. The demigod prince set a comforting hand on Killian’s shoulder, and for a while, they simply stood in silence, two brothers in arms mourning a dead king and what could have been.
“Remember that we’re warriors,” Flynn said softly, sighing deeply. “We’re soldiers, and we’re at war. I know this hurts, but you need to remember your training. We all do, and we have to focus on the task at hand. One slip up from an emotional distraction and any one of the brotherhood could die. Or worse, Tina.” Flynn crossed his massive arms, staring down at the plaque regaling the king’s triumphs. “We need you, Killian. We need you to be focused. Can you do that?”
“Of course,” Killian said, his voice sounding strange to his ears after so much silence. He closed his eyes, stowing away the pain and grief so that he could focus on the pressing matters at hand. When he opened his eyes, he felt whole again, ready for the battle at their door. “You’re right, Flynn. Thank you. It’s time for war, and I won’t let our family be harmed.”
The sorrow would still be there when this mess was over, and when everything was settled, he could let himself properly grieve.
“I’m glad to hear that, buddy.” Flynn smacked him heartily on the back, and Killian coughed a bit in surprise from the sheer force of what was probably supposed to be a comforting touch. “Let’s go topside. There’s lots to do.”
“Where is everyone?” Killian led the way through the secret doors and tunnels, the fiery sconces quickly replaced by electric lights. “Where’s Tina?”
