A King's Seduction ✔️

NINETEEN

Word Count: 2306

Defeated, I have to fight the urge not to collapse onto the ground in a heap. Instead, I wipe at the blood splattered across my face.

"Of course," I mutter, throwing my hands up. "Of damn course."

Marek sighs, leaning down to wipe the blade of his knife on the shirt of the now deceased man. I watch, stomach churning as he slips the knife back into its place behind him, unbothered by the dead bodies that litter the clearing, thick scarlet blood pooling in the grass. I fight the urge to throw up, knowing what I must look like.

Marek's hands are clean, appearance unmarred. How does he kill so immaculately, so cleanly? He holds his hand out of me, offering to pick me up off the ground. I scowl at him, heaving myself back up into standing position, even if I shake uneasily on  my feet.

"You could look happier to see me," he comments, raising a dark brow at me, the softest smile touching his lips, even if it doesn't reach his eyes. I gape at him, unable to fathom the audacity he is displaying.

"What are you doing here?"

He pauses before motioning around himself, nudging one of the bodies with his foot. "Saving your life, clearly."

"I was fine," I breathe.

Him and I both know they were going to kill me. Still, I'd rather not admit that as we stand amidst these bodies. I look down at one of them, dark hair falling over their face. I have no idea who these men are, which would lead me to assume they are rebels...Yet Marek killed them, so they can't be.

My head spins, dizziness striking me momentarily. Turning on my heel, I stalk through the trees, ready to put as much distance between myself and those bodies as possible before I curl over to be sick.

"Against one, or maybe two, I have no doubt you would have managed yourself," Marek says, following me as I weave through the trees. "But you were unfairly outnumbered. Where are your weapons?"

The vacancy at my side makes me shudder. I don't regret handing my knives over to that lady. He was watching me, so he must have seen...Perhaps he this is his way of telling me how bad of an idea that was.

I stop, satisfied with the distance we've put between the bodies. Marek pauses a few steps away from me. "What's the point of having them if you're just going to use them against me?"

I recall the first time seeing him since the betrayal, when he had turned my own knife against me. The memory seems to grace him also, eyes glittering. After our meeting in the closet, I wasn't sure I would see him again. I had hoped I wouldn't, although yet here he is, in his dark hunting clothing, black bandana pulled down from his mouth around his chin.

"That's a dangerous game, Akara," he warns, tone darkening to match his eyes. The afternoon shadows trace his every move, practically drenching him.

"And you just happened to be in the area?" I mutter.

He tilted his head. "Well no...I followed you."

"Subtle," I drawl. "And you didn't think to step in when I was thrown into the ground?"

Just saying that reminds me of the impact, causing me to wince. It will bruise to accompany the others already forming, complementing the scrapes and cuts that litter me. Whether Marek cares or not, he doesn't show it. He may have stepped in and helped me, but his lurking from a distance isn't appreciated. Even if without him, I would be very much dead...

"I thought you didn't need my help," he taunts. When I don't respond to his humour, his smile falters. "I wanted to see what you could do first."

Not much, it seems. Maybe he was right though, that I could have taken a few of them if it were that way. Marek has no issue, even though he was armed. Not once did he use his Summoner powers, which from the intensity of his marking, he hasn't used in a very long time.