Chapter Twenty-One
***KIERAN ***
I’m yanked from my bed.
“This better be fucking important.”
“The children of Moon Isle you so graciously saved have taken your Offering dancing in the city.”
I lurch from the bed, grabbing every weapon available. An emotion I haven’t felt in a long, long time, burning in my chest.
“They did what?”
“They’re there now.”
It takes everything in me not to mist Xaden’s head. “And why didn’t you stop them?”
Xaden shrugs. “My responsibility is only if she runs, not if she goes into town.”
The feeling in my chest roars. If anyone fucking touches her, if anyone fucking looks at her.
I rip the silk sheets off my shirtless body, the night air doing little to quell the fire burning in my lungs.
“You should have woken me earlier,” I growl to Xaden as I pull my boots on. I toss him a weapon from my bedside, a silent instruction to sharpen it.
The Demon Hunter obeys me. “My duty to the King is to wake him after daylight. Not a second before, or a second after.”
“But you said the Offering is off–”
“And drunk.”
“DRUNK?!”
I’m going to fucking rip out Xaden’s throat if either of the twins touches her. Rip out the twins' throats if either of them tries to pull what they did last night.
“And where is Vienna?” I don’t bother to strap on my sword. My claws are good enough for tonight.
“Last I heard, dancing at Loretta’s.”
A growl rumbles in my chest. My Inner Circle is going to have a talking to, a serious fucking talking to.
“Do something now!” I bark at Xaden, my voice is unusually desperate. He looks at me like I’ve grown a second head.
“What do you care if she’s off dancing?”
“Xaden, she’s the Offering, I fucking care!”
And something in my voice implies I care too much.
“Why are you acting so psycho?” Xaden presses. He’s seeing something in me, something that scares both of us to death.
I bow my head and take a deep breath of air. I don’t know why I’m acting so psycho. I don’t know why I fucking care. With Riley and the others, I never cared. I let them cry or scream or run off to do whatever they wanted.
With the others, I never cared.
“You’re not yourself, Kieran,” Xaden says, leaning back against the pitch black walls of my bedroom. “Slow down, ask yourself what is the best thing to do here–”
I stalk him in cold rage, completely ignoring his advice, and all but pushing him out of the way.
“Very well. Terrorizing the city it is.” He follows me up the stairs. I take them two at a time.
And the whole way up, the Demon Hunter is sharpening my blade.
—-
The people of my City fear their King.
Fear me, and run from me.
Just the Demon Hunter and I’s presence is enough to send everyone in the bar room running. Everyone except the foolish drunks.
Which is unfortunately, a lot of them.
I push the back doors of Loretta’s open and go to the karaoke room. The place smells like pirate rum and faerie drugs and–what do you know, up on the stage, are none other than my two twin spymasters.
“Fuck,” Kallias starts, miserably failing to signal his twin brother. “Kierian…” he warns, by the gods, is it possible he’s even more drunk than before?
Vienna is hooking up with some girl from Star Isle, without warning, I push the sluts apart and start demanding answers.
“Where is she?” I ask the pirate. Vienna groans, continues kissing the girl, and points behind her.
I look over my shoulder and my blood boils.
My little doe is surrounded by men. And not just any men, enemies from the Moon Court.
“Who the fuck let them in?” Xaden snarls, pulling forth his magic of terror. From my darkest abyss, I do the same.
The pain in my chest of unfamiliar emotion boils over, and my rage threatens to break from its carefully crafted cage.
A male pushes Remi’s long brown hair from her face, and she giggles. The shadows in the corner begin to tremble.
They’re dead. Every single one of them is dead.
The crowd parts for their king as I stalk through it. Some bow, but the smarter ones run away.
The Moon Isle soldier sees me approaching and raises his hands. “We've been sent by the Witches for tomorrow, we have immunity among your court–”
I grab Remi from his hands and push her towards Xaden.
“H-how dare you!” she yelps.
“No,” I snarl, pushing the Moon Isle boy, hard. “How fucking dare he touch my Offering.”
The boy's face drains of color. “Oh shit–I swear I didn’t know!”
“Who the fuck do you think you are?” My claws burn at the edge of my fingers and with a quick use of my magic, so do my fangs. This town needs the same reminder that the Offering does, that I do not share. I do not bend.
The Moon Isle soldier attempts to run. They always attempt to run.
And the Midnight King always catches.
My claws sink into his shoulder when I grab him, and then the sound of his neck snapping fills the space. All with the Offering watching, I bring my fangs to his neck and begin to drink.
More, and more, and more. Until the girl behind me is whimpering and begging me to stop.
So I do, letting the boy's blood spray all over the space.
He falls to the floor in two pieces, ripped apart and dead.
When I turn back to the Offering, my lips coated in fresh blood, she screams.
Good.
She needs to know before tomorrow what will happen if she doesn’t obey.