“She is fine now. Go back and enjoy your meal.”
The crowd of guests and guards exchanged hesitant glances and returned to the dining hall.
“Jesus Christ,” I panted and then stood. Immediately my feet began moving again to climb the railing. “Dammit! Tell me to stop!”
With panic-stricken eyes, King quickly grabbed hold of my arm and flung me over his broad shoulder. “Cursed crazy woman.”
As we strode off back toward his chamber, he grumbled antiquated profanities, again targeted at the gods. I had to admit, hearing him make references to deities of fire, war, death, and destruction was almost comical. Almost.
When we reached his quarters overlooking the ocean, the room glowed softly with dozens of oil lamps. Murals coated the walls with scenes depicting warriors gripping spears and animals being sacrificed.
He flung me down on his bed—also a raised cement platform with a fluffy mat and pillows. I sat up and held back an epic tongue lashing. I wanted to throttle him. I could’ve died.
He hovered over me, fuming.
“What?” I growled.
He suddenly crouched down in front of me and grabbed my “K” tattoo. “Do not ever think to do that again,” he commanded.
I snapped my arm back. “Thank you. So now you believe me?” I stood, placing us belly to belly. “After you nearly killed me!”
“I did not believe you would jump.”
“Well.” I poked his chest. “Now ya know!”
He took a sharp angry breath that caused his nostrils to flare. “Now you will tell me why you are here.”
I was about to snarl and scream, but he surprised me by grabbing my wrist and repeating his question.
I glowered at him for a moment before my mouth began to move. “I don’t know why I’m here.”
“A person is not granted such a power,” he pointed to my cuff, “without having a divine purpose.”
Oh God. This is so weird.
“Tell me what you want from me.” The muscles in his square, bristly jaw pulsed with tension.
“I don’t want anything.” I snapped my arm away. “I-I…” I sat back down. “Jesus.” I sighed. This was going to break the man’s heart.
“What is Jesus?” he asked.
I glanced at him. “He’s a who, not a what, and never mind; it’s a long story.”
“I command you to cease these riddles and tell me what you are hiding. You say that you know me, that you are my woman—my betrothed many, many days into the future. Am I old? Am I dying?”
I shook my head.
“I’m”— going to sound crazy —“from three thousand or so years ahead.” I didn’t know what calendar they followed in these times, so I did some quick math. “About a million days.”
“I don’t know this million.”
I scratched my head. “Well, say you have one revolution of the sun, winter, spring, summer, and fall.”
He stared.
“Okay,” I said. “Cold weather followed by planting, growing, harvest?”
He nodded.
“Good. That’s one cycle. One year. If you had ten of those,” I held up my fingers to show ten, “that would be a decade. If you had ten decades,” I flashed my fingers ten times, “a century. If you had ten of those, that would be a millennium. So try three millennium.”
He frowned. I think he got the picture. “This is impossible. People do not live that long.”
I nodded. “You’re right.”
“Get to the point, woman.”
Mia. Why is it so hard for him to call me “Mia”?
I took a deep breath. “Sit.” I patted the bed next to me. Hesitantly, he did as I asked.
His big body next to mine made me feel like a fly sitting next to a Venus flytrap. I could be gobbled up at any moment.
“Hagne doesn’t love you,” I said.
His straight black brows pulled together. “Of course she does not.”
“Then why are you marrying her?”
“Her lineage is powerful and her family is feared and well respected by our commoners. Our union will ensure peace for many generations to come.”
Okay. That was good. He didn’t expect love from her. On the other hand, I
The crowd of guests and guards exchanged hesitant glances and returned to the dining hall.
“Jesus Christ,” I panted and then stood. Immediately my feet began moving again to climb the railing. “Dammit! Tell me to stop!”
With panic-stricken eyes, King quickly grabbed hold of my arm and flung me over his broad shoulder. “Cursed crazy woman.”
As we strode off back toward his chamber, he grumbled antiquated profanities, again targeted at the gods. I had to admit, hearing him make references to deities of fire, war, death, and destruction was almost comical. Almost.
When we reached his quarters overlooking the ocean, the room glowed softly with dozens of oil lamps. Murals coated the walls with scenes depicting warriors gripping spears and animals being sacrificed.
He flung me down on his bed—also a raised cement platform with a fluffy mat and pillows. I sat up and held back an epic tongue lashing. I wanted to throttle him. I could’ve died.
He hovered over me, fuming.
“What?” I growled.
He suddenly crouched down in front of me and grabbed my “K” tattoo. “Do not ever think to do that again,” he commanded.
I snapped my arm back. “Thank you. So now you believe me?” I stood, placing us belly to belly. “After you nearly killed me!”
“I did not believe you would jump.”
“Well.” I poked his chest. “Now ya know!”
He took a sharp angry breath that caused his nostrils to flare. “Now you will tell me why you are here.”
I was about to snarl and scream, but he surprised me by grabbing my wrist and repeating his question.
I glowered at him for a moment before my mouth began to move. “I don’t know why I’m here.”
“A person is not granted such a power,” he pointed to my cuff, “without having a divine purpose.”
Oh God. This is so weird.
“Tell me what you want from me.” The muscles in his square, bristly jaw pulsed with tension.
“I don’t want anything.” I snapped my arm away. “I-I…” I sat back down. “Jesus.” I sighed. This was going to break the man’s heart.
“What is Jesus?” he asked.
I glanced at him. “He’s a who, not a what, and never mind; it’s a long story.”
“I command you to cease these riddles and tell me what you are hiding. You say that you know me, that you are my woman—my betrothed many, many days into the future. Am I old? Am I dying?”
I shook my head.
“I’m”— going to sound crazy —“from three thousand or so years ahead.” I didn’t know what calendar they followed in these times, so I did some quick math. “About a million days.”
“I don’t know this million.”
I scratched my head. “Well, say you have one revolution of the sun, winter, spring, summer, and fall.”
He stared.
“Okay,” I said. “Cold weather followed by planting, growing, harvest?”
He nodded.
“Good. That’s one cycle. One year. If you had ten of those,” I held up my fingers to show ten, “that would be a decade. If you had ten decades,” I flashed my fingers ten times, “a century. If you had ten of those, that would be a millennium. So try three millennium.”
He frowned. I think he got the picture. “This is impossible. People do not live that long.”
I nodded. “You’re right.”
“Get to the point, woman.”
Mia. Why is it so hard for him to call me “Mia”?
I took a deep breath. “Sit.” I patted the bed next to me. Hesitantly, he did as I asked.
His big body next to mine made me feel like a fly sitting next to a Venus flytrap. I could be gobbled up at any moment.
“Hagne doesn’t love you,” I said.
His straight black brows pulled together. “Of course she does not.”
“Then why are you marrying her?”
“Her lineage is powerful and her family is feared and well respected by our commoners. Our union will ensure peace for many generations to come.”
Okay. That was good. He didn’t expect love from her. On the other hand, I
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