Page 157 of The King has Fallen
I opened my mouth, suddenlyneedingto tell him everything. Needing him to understand. But every instinct in my headshrieked.
He wouldn’t be able to think straight for days. Possibly weeks. It would put all of us in danger. But especially him.
He watched, eyes angry, as I shook my head. “This isn’t the time,” I croaked. “Just promise me you’ll take no action until we’ve spoken… about everything.”
“Oh, I promise you, Yilan. I want every detail, to knowexactlywhat I’m avenging.”
I sighed, but nodded. Then he took my hand and led me to the shadows, and we both faded into them without another word.
55. Tied
~ MELEK ~
My first awareness was the freshness of the air.
Before I’d even opened my eyes, my senses perked. A breath of cool, clean air fluttered over my body and IknewI couldn’t be in camp anymore. Where was the scent of shit-tainted mud? The heavy odor of unwashed male bodies, unwashed clothing, unwashed bedclothes—unwashedeverything?
But my eyes wouldn’t open. Despite my tension and questions, I sank back into sleep for a time.
When I woke again, my eyes were heavy, but fluttered.
I blinked.
And blinked.
And blinked many more times, trying to clear the crust and blur from my eyes, and also trying to find some frame of reference for what I was seeing.
But every time I opened my eyes, the sight was the same.
A huge, lavish room. Floor of stone slate. Walls built of huge bricks. I could see one shutter-framed window from this angle. The sill was deep enough for me to sit in it.
Still blinking, rubbing my eyes with half-numb hands, I slowly scanned the room, confused.
The furniture was large, but not nearly as big as ours. The fireplace was huge—large enough even for me to step into it if the hearth was cold. But there was a fire crackling merrily away, and a huge stack of wood next to it, as if whoever lived here thought they needed days of warmth.
It certainly wasn’t needed for light. Bright but thin sunlight bathed the room, turning all the dark, carved furniture into gleaming luxury, velvet curtains into rich falls, and…
And none of this was Nephilim in style or size.
I sat bolt upright, hand clawing into the soft mattress on which I lay, head snapping left and right—but then I had to groan and let myself fall back again because my head spun and ached like a motherfucker.
I didn’t know what had been done to me, or where I was, but it took minutes of laying there, eyes closed, to swallow back the wave of nausea that tried to punch out of my throat.
When it finally felt safe to open my eyes, I took it much more slowly.
The bed I lay on was massive—easily large enough for my frame—and had four posts, one on each corner, and a ceiling. Thick red curtains were pulled back to the foot and head, but they were held by a gold cord that could be released, and the curtains pulled closed along the rails between the posts.
Presumably, to block out that bright sunlight.
Where the fuck was I?
It took a great deal of time, and patience, rolling first to my side, then slowly pushing myself upright—and closing my eyes, breathing deeply for many minutes before the nausea passed.
Eventually, I was able to lower my bare feet to the floor. Then I had to spend time shifting my weight until I was steady enough to actually stand. And more minutes before I could walk. But I could feel my head clearing with every breath, and my body growing surer.
At some point, I stood in the center of that stone floor and turned a slow circle.
The room was six-sided. The most important side—the central block—housed a huge, arched doorwaywith steel bars over it.
