39. Xander

39

XANDER

A horn blared at the back of the temple, bringing the chattering crowd to a hushed silence.

The herald lowered his instrument and bellowed so the entire temple could hear, "His Majesty, King Vincent Savero."

Xander's blood boiled as he watched Vincent walk down the center aisle, crushing rose petals underfoot as he nodded to his bowing subjects. Many nervous glances darted from Vincent to Xander.

Xander hoped his people would not expect him to be vindictive that they were doing what they must to survive. Their contempt was quiet, just barely noticeable in referring to Vincent as "Your Grace" instead of "Your Majesty." But Xander had seen enough to know that people feared Vincent more than they respected him.

He waited until the last possible moment to join in the homage, vowing it would be the last time he bowed to a madman. He clenched his jaw as he rose to his feet.

Vincent offered a smirk. "Cousin."

Xander gave a curt nod. He was rigid with anxiety. If their timing was off, things could go very wrong very fast. If every noble they expected to be on their side wasn't, it would be a mess. There were too many points of failure in the plan, but they didn't have a better one.

He had to have faith in his wife and his friends. Once again, the women in his life were saving his ass and he hoped it wouldn't become a regular thing. He loved being surrounded by strong women, but he didn't love needing saving.

King Damian had been a man of violence. What would Xander's people think of him attacking Vincent and his men to regain power? Would they think he was the same as the man who raised him?

Xander had no right to be king over anyone else. But when he looked up to the loft and saw the white rose waiting there, he knew that he owed his people peace. He owed his and Jessamin's child peace. And they owed him a real chance to do better and make Argaria a kingdom worth being proud of for people of all classes.

Long ago, Xander had made a vow to his dying brother that he would make things better, and he did not intend to break it. He just needed the chance to move the exceptionally slow, stubborn attitudes of the aristocracy. With the obstructions removed, he hoped it would be easier.

Xander just needed to get through the next few minutes and hoped that the element of surprise was enough to save his friends and his kingdom.

The music changed and Cece appeared at the end of the long aisle. It was hard to see her face since she was backlit. Her light blue dress brought to mind the memory of their wedding. Her right leg peeked out from the slit as she walked. Xander tried to meet her eyes but they weren't focused on him. They were locked on Rainer.

Rainer—who looked frozen, awestruck, speechless. The same way Xander had looked when she walked down the aisle to him. Only she wasn't coming down to meet Rainer. She was preceding his fiancée, Eloise.

Rainer swallowed hard. "Xander."

It was a whisper so soft Xander thought he imagined it until he heard it again.

"Xander, does she have a weapon? "

Xander blew out a disbelieving breath. "You're the one that was just up her dress. Where do you think she'd hide a weapon?"

Panic seized Xander, and suddenly, he worried that they'd missed a more important point of failure in their plan. Rainer had already killed Magdalena. He was perhaps moments from ruining the rest of them.

Cece took her spot on the bride's side of the altar, and although Rainer's gaze was fixed on her, she glanced to the back of the temple, waiting for Eloise. Cece's lower lip trembled and she blinked rapidly, trying to clear tears from her eyes. Suddenly, her gaze caught on someone in the crowd.

Xander searched for what she might have seen and his gaze snagged on Grimon and Samson sitting halfway back in the temple. His eye was drawn to the loft, where he spotted Sayla, goddess of the hunt, who wore full leather armor and a scowl that brought to mind all the tales of violent men going missing in her woods.

They'd sent Grimon a message and he had come through for them. Although the gods could only help for a short time, Xander would take whatever advantage he could get.

The doors at the end of the aisle closed and the temple went unbearably quiet. The whole room rose to their feet and turned to face the closed doors—the whole room except Cece, whose gaze was fixed on Rainer, and Rainer, who was staring right back.

Xander glanced at Isla, who was seated in the front row. She gave him a regal and reassuring nod. She wasn't his true queen, but she definitely had the act down and looked downright sinful in a deep burgundy dress that hugged her ample curves. She was as tempting as she was absolutely sick of his nonsense.

The musicians began to play, the song swelled, and the doors opened. Eloise appeared in a ridiculously large red ball gown that was nearly too wide for the entryway. As she began to walk down the aisle, three attendants scrambled to adjust the dress's train.

Xander prayed to every god he could think of that their plan would work.

"Don't react," Rainer whispered. His eyes were fixed on Eloise and his mouth barely moved. Xander wouldn't have heard it without his enhanced hearing. "Xander. I remember." Rainer took a deep breath. "I remember everything and I'm going to fucking kill him."

Xander fixed his face into a stoic stare toward the back of the church, but out of the corner of his eye he could see Rainer's hands fisted at his sides.

"Don't do anything rash. We have a plan and I'm counting on you not fucking it up," Xander said, smiling as if nothing was amiss. "There's a sword under the first row of pews on the left. The signal is when the priestess hands the book of vows over to Vincent."

Rainer nodded, his gaze darting to Vincent on his throne at the back of the altar.

Vincent must have read his sudden shift in mood because he strode down from his seat of honor behind the altar and clapped a hand on Rainer's shoulder.

"Is everything well?" he asked, looking suspiciously between the two. "Not getting cold feet, are we?"

Rainer was not doing a good job of composing his face. He looked positively murderous.

"I was just saying how lovely Eloise's finer assets look in that dress," Xander said. "I'm afraid I've ignored McKay's delicate sensibilities."

The lie was easy. He'd spent so much time antagonizing Rainer over the past two years and that came with a unique understanding of how Rainer's mind worked.

Vincent clicked his tongue. "Now, now, I think you've picked his pocket of a woman one too many times for such a joke."

Eloise was halfway down the aisle, walking comically slowly, clearly relishing being the center of attention. Her gaze passed over each guest as if daring them to challenge her pending union. As if everyone in the room didn't know the story of the most romantic man in the two kingdoms.

Finally, Eloise reached the altar and took her place next to Rainer. Her attendants fluttered around her, adjusting her train until it lay perfectly .

Mika stepped forward in her disguise as head priestess. Thanks to Cato's help, she looked flawless, but the half-smile she offered Xander was a dead giveaway.

Vincent stepped up beside her. "Welcome, my loyal subjects. I am happy to be here for this special occasion. My finest swordsman is joining his hand with that of one of the greatest and oldest Argarian households. I am happy to be here to concelebrate this occasion."

He cast a mocking grin at Cece, who despite knowing their plan looked completely shattered. Xander caught her gaze and she forced a tight smile.

Vincent nodded to Mika. "Priestess, let's begin."

Mika opened the book of ceremony and began to speak. Xander could not concentrate on her words. The tension in his body was too profound. He repeated the steps of their plan in his head.

Grant lurked several paces behind Vincent, his gaze scanning the crowd for any sign of trouble. The guard glanced at Cece and smiled.

Xander hated that fucker. Vincent might have been the one who cut his initials into Cece's leg, but Grant was the one who held her down.

Xander forced his gaze not to stray to the post above the crowd where he hoped Jessamin was still hidden. If anyone moved too soon, their cover would be blown, but this was the hardest part of any surprise attack—waiting until the trap was sprung.

As soon as Mika handed the book of vows to Vincent, Xander would grab the short sword stowed in the giant bouquet of flowers on his side of the altar and Cece would grab her set from the one on her side. Mika would have her shot at Vincent, and Cece would have her chance at Grant. Isla would have Xander's back against Vincent's main contingent of guards. But there was a chance they'd underestimated how many guards Vincent would have patrolling nearby. If their timing was off, Xander's group of barely trained priestesses would not hold up against Vincent's army of battle-hardened hunters.

Xander reviewed the plan over and over in his mind, the way he had with swordplay techniques when he first started hunter training. Sweat dripped down his back, his palms growing clammy. He itched for a weapon.

Isla shifted in her seat, running a hand down her knife-filled bodice. Just the sight of her centered him. He smiled at her and took a deep breath. Gods above, she was beautiful. He wished he felt certain that she wouldn't take her first chance to leave—that he hadn't blown his chance with her. Xander had taken his best shot and he could at least be at peace with that, but he was ever the optimist. Even after all the disappointment in his life, he held out hope that he could win her over.

Xander was so focused on her he nearly missed the signal.

Mika handed the heavy leather book to Vincent and yanked a dagger from her sleeve. Vincent's eyes went wide as she slammed it between his ribs, twisting with sadistic satisfaction in her eyes.

Mika pulled the dagger out and blood poured from the wound in Vincent's chest. "That was for Ivy." She plunged her blade in again. "And this is for Magdalena."

Before she could get the blade out, Vincent had unsheathed his dagger. He stabbed it into her side and fell back onto the floor, clutching at his chest.

Cece screamed and darted past Xander, her vengeance on Grant forgotten. She kicked Vincent's dagger from his hand and knelt on his chest, thrusting her wrist with the Unsummoner bracelet toward him.

"Take it off and I'll fix you," she said insistently.

Vincent narrowed his eyes at her.

"I'm the closest and I've healed wounds like this before," she said. "No doubt you've seen Xander's scar."

Xander knelt beside them, blades at the ready, afraid at any moment Vincent might toss her off.

"His first," Cece said, nodding to Xander's wrist.

Vincent hesitated, but Cece dug a knee into the wound in his side and he relented with a grunt. He wrapped his hand around Xander's bracelet and mumbled some words. A moment later, the bracelet slid free and landed on the marble floor with a loud clang .

Xander's magic rushed back to him all at once. His ears popped and his body buzzed with energy; he felt the soft hum of every storm coming through the mountain pass.

Vincent removed Cece's Unsummoner bracelet. She immediately punched him in the face and raced over to Mika, bringing her hands to her wound and pressing her power into it.

The room had erupted into full-blown chaos. Their small army sprang into action, resulting in mass confusion. Most of Vincent's guards were so shocked they didn't realize who was attacking until they'd been struck with a killing blow.

The tide seemed to be turning for Xander. Then, a group of Vincent's men poured in from the far side of the room.

Maren, Jessamin, and Sayla did their best to hinder the onslaught of men to help the rest of their friends regroup, but the priestesses weren't schooled in battle tactics. Once their initial tasks were completed, they stood wide-eyed, looking around the room.

Evan ran into the fray, trying to direct the priestesses, and Sylvie used earth magic to grow roots around their attackers' legs to slow them down.

The side doors of the temple burst open and another group of Vincent's guards charged in. Sylvie and Evan turned toward them, ready to cut them off before they met the crowd.

Xander's heart leapt into his throat. He wanted to back them up but was torn between going to help them and staying close to Isla.

Blinding golden light poured into the room, filling the whole front of the temple with a fierce glow that made Xander squint. When the brilliance receded, a tall woman with tawny skin and a wheat crown atop a head of dark curls stood at the center of the altar. Her golden dress shimmered in the light pouring through the temple windows.

The whole room seemed to have frozen, the entire group stunned to silence by the ethereal presence of Aurelia, goddess of fertility and the harvest.

Xander held his breath, afraid she might smite all of them, but then her gaze narrowed on the contingent of Vincent's guards standing shocked just inside the doorway.

"You dare to enter my temple with your filthy hands and your men who rape and pillage these lands and leave the fields barren and burned," Aurelia said.

She turned and locked eyes with Xander. She walked toward him slowly, her golden dress trailing behind her. Xander held perfectly still as she approached.

She nodded. "Your Majesty."

Xander's heartbeat kicked up. The goddess of the harvest, whose temple they were standing in, had just acknowledged him as the rightful king of Argaria in front of the most influential people in the kingdom.

She winked at him and turned her gaze on Vincent's men, who were in formation near the side doors. A guard at the front of the group frowned and winced. His hands flew to his groin and his eyes went wide.

"That which was fertile in you will decompose into nothing. Those among you who have stolen from the women who I shelter here—you are rotten and so you will rot."

The group began to writhe, all of them grabbing at their groins before doubling over. Their faces went purple, veins beneath their skin growing black, then green, as they collapsed one by one until all that remained was a solitary guard who turned and fled.

"I thought your power was about fertility," Xander said.

The goddess smiled a wicked smile. "It is. But I can also make things barren and rotten if I so choose."

Xander startled at a loud clap behind him. He spun, his short swords ready.

Samson leaned against the throne atop the altar. "Aury, you've outdone yourself," he said, crossing the altar and kissing Aurelia on the cheek.

She waved a hand as if it was nothing. "I'm saving my energy for the rest of his army. These ones just happened to come to me first in my house of power, and that was a slight I could not abide. "

A new cluster of Vincent's men poured in the side door, stepping over the bodies of their fallen comrades.

Aurelia nodded to Samson. "Care to lend a hand, dear?"

Samson's grin grew wolfish. "It would be my pleasure." He strutted toward the guards, who drew their weapons and then, as if sensing the power of his aura, froze. Samson walked right up to the first man and poked his nose. "Boop."

Xander watched, waiting for the next horror to be unleashed.

The men shifted, waiting for Samson's magic to take effect, but there was no moaning, no crumpling to the ground. They stood tall, looking at each other and then at Samson as he tapped each of them one at a time.

Samson rounded on them and grinned. "Can you feel it? All that bloodlust is gone. So is the pleasure of enjoying good food, a good fight, a good fuck. You'll find no pleasure in anything ever again. That's what you get for being men who take what does not belong to you."

The men stared at him, looking almost apathetic. One by one, they dropped their weapons and stumbled out of the temple.

Samson turned toward Xander, placed a fist over his heart, and bowed. "Your Majesty."

Xander was too stunned to speak. Two gods had recognized him as the rightful king in a matter of minutes.

Samson winked and the edges of his body grew blurry before he disappeared.

Xander strained against the noise in the temple and heard pounding footsteps: another incoming contingent of Vincent's men. He turned back to survey the chaos on the altar. Cece had helped Mika to safety and was brandishing her short swords against two of Vincent's guards. Rainer was beating back two more on the far side of the altar.

Two men charged at Xander and he brought his short swords up to fend them off. This was a thing he knew—the choreography of a dance he'd done so many times. He loved this—not the violence so much as the way he learned to read a fighter, to see their subtle tells, and to win. It was good to show his people that he was not beat yet. That he was here to fight—for them and for his place as king.

Perhaps that was what separated him from the kings that came before him. They had fought to keep the throne, but Xander fought to earn it.

Xander blocked the first guard's blows and spun to shove his blade through a gap in the second guard's armor. The guard stumbled away and Xander spun back to fight the first.

He made short work of the men and then finally allowed himself a glance at the loft in the back of the room where Jessamin and Maren stood with their bows drawn. Beside them, a fearsome-looking Goddess Sayla had dark paint smeared around her eyes and looked more vengeful huntress than protector of the forest as she shot arrows with terrifying precision.

Xander waved to them and pointed toward the doors right as another group of Vincent's men poured in, stepping over the rotten bodies of their predecessors. Jessamin, Maren, and Sayla rained arrows on the men. Only a few slipped through their barrage and were quickly met with Isla's blades.

Xander watched, mesmerized, as she ducked and swiped and cut her way through the men two at a time. She was murderous and magnificent, her movements swift, vicious, efficient. She wasted nothing; her focus was uncanny and she cut through every man who came at her with a brutal efficiency that Xander had never seen anyone wield. He was grateful to have her on his side.

He started toward her to help when movement to his left caught his eye. Cece stumbled away from Grant. She blocked one strike and spun away from him, swiping her short sword along his side, leaving a long line in his leather armor.

She turned to face Grant again. He had the look of a cat playing with its dinner and Cece looked exhausted. On top of losing weight over the past month and the fatigue of being vigilant all the time, she'd used a lot of magic healing Mika and it showed in her form.

Xander took one last glance at Isla, who looked as fresh as if she'd just started fighting. Then, he charged toward Cece. Grant must have felt him coming because he blocked Xander's first blow with his gauntlet. Xander punched Grant in the face with his other hand and the guard reeled backward, hitting the back of his head on the arm of the marble throne and falling to the floor, unconscious.

A soft cry behind Xander made his blood run cold. He whipped his gaze to Isla. Blood dripped down her left side, but she was still fighting, surrounded by six of Vincent's men. She moved like she wasn't wounded, but Xander saw red.

He darted toward her, running his blade through two of the men in quick succession. Isla ignored him, continuing to fight off four men alone. Xander could tell she was growing tired, her movements slower, her breathing more ragged. Two more men came up behind her.

Xander didn't think. He jumped in front of them. The larger of the guards lifted his sword high and brought it down hard. Xander threw up his short swords just in time to break the blow.

It cost him; the second man sliced along his side. Xander winced. He countered, swiftly cutting the man's throat.

The move left him open a second too long, but Isla was there, breaking a wild swipe from the larger man and cutting across his throat with her curved blade.

She caught Xander's eye, looking a mix of shocked and furious, but he just kept fighting.

"I have it covered," she snapped. "Go help Evan."

He didn't want to leave Isla, but he didn't dare argue with her. He needed to trust her, so he shoved a guard back and set his sights on Evan and Sylvie, who were midway down the center aisle, trying to handle an onslaught of Vincent's men pouring in the back of the temple.

Xander had thought with Aurelia and Samson's help the tide might be turning, but it was impossible to tell and the element of surprise was gone now.

He was breathless when he reached Evan and Sylvie. They worked together, Sylvie ripping men apart with vicious thorny vines grown from the roses along the aisle and Evan and Xander cutting down anyone who made it past her brambles.

Xander's arms grew heavy and sweat slicked his back. He didn't know how many more men they could fight off.

A loud commotion broke out at the back of the temple, and at first, Xander couldn't see anything but smoke. When it cleared, Grimon strutted down the center aisle toward Xander. He came face to face with a bumbling Edward Spellman. The god of death grinned at the traitor and in quick motion Edward's skin went gray and cracked. He blinked rapidly as his body turned to dust before their eyes.

Xander stared in both shock and horror as the traitor became nothing more than a pile of ash. "You can turn people to dust?"

Grimon smirked. "Only a few at a time."

"I suppose I should stay on your good side," Xander said, cutting down a guard who charged at them.

"Bold of you to assume you've ever been on my good side," Grimon countered.

"I thought I was growing on you."

Grimon shrugged a shoulder. "Not that much." He touched another guard, who took two steps forward before he disintegrated. The god of death paused, his gaze locking with Aurelia where she stood in golden splendor on the altar.

"Don't give me that look," she said, but the hint of a satisfied smirk on her face suggested she didn't mind the attention.

Grimon licked his lips. "What look?"

"The look that says you're regretting your past foolishness," Aurelia said.

"Strange—I'm struggling to recall any foolishness when you look so stunning," Grimon replied.

"Good thing I have a good enough memory for both of us," the goddess said with a wink.

Grimon smirked at Aurelia. "Glad you have the reminder of what you're missing. I'm happy to remind you again—later. "

"Can you focus, please?" Xander said, exasperated that the gods had time to flirt mid-battle.

The god turned and set his sights on a cowering Eloise, trembling behind the edge of a nearby pew. Her dress was in tatters, her hair wild, and her eyes full of tears.

"Please," she blubbered, falling to her knees.

Grimon studied her. "What do you think, Xander?"

Wisdom dictated that Xander should just have her killed. But he didn't want to be like Vincent or King Damian. He wanted to be better.

"I'll banish her. To the eastern wastes or Aldrena or anywhere beyond. She may go and make better of her life, but she won't do it with any of her family resources. The entire Spellman family will be stripped of their titles and their riches and banished from Argaria and its allies."

Eloise's eyes went wide and watery and he knew that the punishment was perhaps worse to her than death. Deep down, he'd known enough about Eloise to suspect she might feel that way, but maybe in time she'd see it for what it was—a generous gift from a man who had enough blood on his hands.

"You'll take care of the rest of the traitors on my council?" Xander asked.

Grimon's smile turned wicked and his eyes glowed with power. "With pleasure." He cast a glance over his shoulder at Xander. "Your Majesty."

He stalked past Xander toward the group of remaining nobles.

The army of priestesses had taken out most of the men, but a few more talented fighters still stood.

Xander began to assess the damage. It seemed they were making headway, but the room had erupted in such chaos it was hard to tell. From where he stood, Xander could see a few of the temple women were wounded, though none of them seemed to be in critical condition.

The temple finally settled. Most of the innocent bystanders had fled, but those who had cowered under the pews began to poke their heads out.

"Xander!" Cece's panicked voice cut through the din of the crowd. She ran to Xander, patting down his body, her wild blue eyes growing wide when she saw the gash on his forearm and side.

He shooed her away. "Just scratches, love. Save your energy."

The crease in her brow smoothed and she grinned. "Getting rusty, Your Grace?"

"Just being the reckless idiot you know me to be?—"

His attention snagged on Isla and everything else faded away.

She looked like a goddess of war, the hem of her dress soaked in blood, a hand poised on the blade at her waist, and her murderous gaze locked on Xander. She closed the distance between them and slapped him across the face.

He rubbed his jaw. "That was not the thanks I was expecting."

"If you ever step between me and an opponent again, I'll gut you myself," she said, her voice wavering.

Xander threw his hands up in frustration. "You were fighting six men, Isla. Six! I do not doubt your ability, but that's excessive. I was protecting you."

"Protecting me?" She blew out a great, shuddering breath. "You would have broken me."

Then she grabbed him by the tunic and pulled his mouth to hers.

The kiss nearly took Xander's knees out with its fierceness. He dropped his blade, shoved a hand into her hair, and wrapped an arm around her waist. Isla felt so good there, bloody from battle, kissing him like she was a moment from absconding with him to some dark corner of the temple. Everything about it felt right. Because Isla wasn't kissing him like he was a casual fling or like they were only lovers—she was kissing him with the sort of mad desperation reserved for something far greater.

When she finally pulled away, he was breathless.

Isla leaned her forehead against his. "It would have broken me because I love you."

Xander grinned .

"Wipe that smug smile off your face or I'll stop," she said.

He smiled wider. "If you could, you would have already. I told you I would get you, darling, and I always hit my mark."

She shook her head, smiling despite herself. "As long as I get to hit mine back."

Xander rubbed his jaw. "Didn't think you'd be so literal." He drew back to meet her eye, the question on his tongue nearly too heavy to utter. He hesitated, afraid of the weight of it, afraid of her denial, afraid to fall once more with no one there to catch him. "Does this mean you'll accept my offer? Be my partner?"

"We can discuss it," Isla said.

A startled laugh burst out of him. There she was, negotiating for what she wanted.

A throat cleared behind them. Xander turned and came face to face with Cato. His hand flew to the dagger on his belt on instinct. The memory of the trickster god plunging a blade into his heart was as fresh as if it had just happened.

Cato held up his hands. "Easy there. I'm on your side, remember?" His shirt sleeve was torn, blood seeping from a wound on his forearm and his cheek was mottled with the first hint of a slow spreading bruise. "Congratulations on a battle well fought, Your Majesty ."

When Xander didn't respond, Cato rolled his eyes. "My blessing has greater impact if you act as if you expected it." With that, he turned and walked back down the temple aisle and out the back doors.

Xander glanced around the room. Most of the fighting had ceased, since their friends and the gods had dispatched most, if not all, of Vincent's men. Aurelia had spirited away but he suspected she'd be back for the remainder of Vincent's men. All of them except Grant, who was standing face to face with Rainer.

Xander was pretty sure from the vicious look on Rainer's face that he didn't need or want any help.

Rainer swung his sword high and struck a brutal blow upon Grant. Grant broke the strike, spinning to the side, but Rainer just kept walking toward him.

"You held down the love of my life so that Vincent could hurt her, and then you taunted her for months," Rainer barked, his voice unrecognizable with rage. "You took pleasure in her pain."

He swung again. Grant was fully on his heels. He slipped in a puddle of blood and stumbled backward.

Rainer plunged his sword into Grant's side, twisting the blade before pulling it out.

"You made her live in fear that the same thing could happen again," Rainer barked, plunging the blade into Grant's stomach.

Grant let out a wet gurgle as blood bubbled on his lips.

Rainer yanked his sword free. "Vincent is a monster and a manipulator. But you knew better and you let him hurt people anyway. And that makes you worse. You made her live in fear, but now, you get to be afraid."

Grant crumpled to his knees, fell sideways to the hard marble floor, and rolled to his back. Rainer towered over him, eyes full of menace, and pressed the tip of his sword to Vincent's crest at the center of his leather breastplate. He pushed the blade so slowly, making sure that Grant felt every painful inch, that he lived through as much pain as possible, until finally the tip of the blade hit the floor. Grant's eyes went wide and he gave one last wet, shuddering breath before he went still.

Rainer stood over Grant's body, panting, waiting, as if to make sure the guard didn't rise again.

"Well, that was definitive," Isla whispered from just behind Xander.

Several feet away, Vincent was crawling toward the marble throne, a smear of blood trailing behind him. Xander took a step toward him, ready to finish the job. But Rainer's hand came to his shoulder.

"Allow me."

Rainer marched over to Vincent and kicked his side. Vincent groaned and rolled onto his back, slashing at Rainer with his dagger, but Rainer just kicked it away. He stomped down, pinning Vincent's wrist to the ground.

"Is this the hand you used to hold her down? To hurt her?" Rainer growled.

Vincent was wheezing. His face was scrunched, body braced.

Rainer didn't wait for a response. He delivered a swift blow, severing Vincent's right hand from his body.

Vincent screamed in agony, dragging Xander's attention back to the bloody scene. Rainer was unmoved. He pressed a boot to the king's chest, ignoring the blood rapidly spreading beneath the usurper's body. Rainer dragged his blade to Vincent's groin and pushed it in slowly.

Vincent howled. The whole temple stilled, every gaze in the room narrowing on the false king and the guardian standing over him.

Rainer lifted his blade. "Enjoy your afterlife."

Vincent's face paled. Rainer's sword whistled through the air and beheaded Vincent.

Rainer blew out a breath, his hands shaking, cheeks still red with fury. He turned slowly and met Xander's gaze, his face splattered with blood and lit with the kind of anger that Xander had never seen in him.

"Feel better?" Xander asked.

Rainer wiped his face on his sleeve and searched the room for Cece. His eyes were manic. He pressed his hand to his chest and frantically surveyed the crowd.

"I can't feel her," he said. "I've never needed to look for her. I've always just known where she is."

Xander pointed to Cece and Rainer's shoulders relaxed when he saw her.

"The reunion will have to wait," Xander said, nodding toward the restless crowd. "Watch my back while I address the room?"

Rainer hesitated, his gaze locked on Cece. After a moment, he nodded, stepping up to Xander's left shoulder just as Jessamin shoved her way through the crowd. She tore free of the crush, a bow in hand, the quiver strapped to her back nearly empty of arrows. She ran to Xander with Maren, Evan, and Sylvie on her heels. All of their disguises had worn off, leaving them with their true faces.

Xander pulled Jessamin into a hug before drawing away to look her over for injury. "Are you well?"

She frowned, clearly offended by the question. "I am a warrior. Of course I'm well and I'll not have you fussing as much as Maren, for goddesses' sake."

Xander bit back his smirk. "Well enough to address our people?"

Jessamin grinned and brushed her hand down her leather breastplate. "I'm hardly dressed for it."

"I must disagree. I think you look perfect," Xander said. He held out his arm and his wife threaded her hand through it. Together, they turned to face the crowd.

The murmurs of the survivors had reached a fever pitch, and no one seemed ready to settle.

Isla, poised at Xander's right shoulder, leaned closer. "You'll have to get their attention."

Xander smiled. For the first time in weeks, he stretched his power wide, reaching up into the sky and drawing down a storm. Joy crested in his chest at the return of the familiar magic that had been such a huge part of his identity for so long.

He feared the long absence of his power would make the work difficult, but it returned like muscle memory for a swordsmanship drill, the fronts bending to his command and threading together to form a swirling cloud. He could not see the storm, but the bright reflections the stained-glass windows cast on the walls turned darker and the crowd began to quiet.

A gust of wind blew the doors in and Xander unleashed a loud crack of thunder that shook the temple walls.

Xander was not just half royal blood. He was the sum of all his actions and intentions. He was the man who had risked his life behind enemy lines to find the Lost God. He was the man who'd drawn this kingdom back from the grips of war. He was the man who'd fought from the inside to keep his people safe and take back what was rightfully his not by blood, but by honor .

"I am Alexander Maxwell Savero, the rightful king of Argaria. Bend a knee now or leave my kingdom."

Another loud clash of thunder shook the temple and the crowd flinched. Then, slowly, in a ripple from the front of the room to the back, they lowered to their knees.

Evan looked like he might fall over from relief, but he was smiling a wide-open grin that Xander hadn't seen since his wedding. Sylvie was beside him, a hint of a smile on her face. She gave Xander a stern nod of approval.

Isla leaned forward and whispered in his ear, "It's about time, Your Majesty."

Xander smirked and eased the storm, unraveling the symphony he'd created as simply as one might tug a rogue thread on a scarf. The temple brightened as the storm lifted.

"You may rise."

The crowd slowly rose to their feet.

"We have a long way to go to rebuild, and change is never easy, but from here we rebuild. Jessamin and I vow never to forget who we serve—not just those in this room, but all of those in this land. We remain your humble servants in building a new, more equitable Argaria."

Some of the stunned guests slowly trickled out of the temple, leaving behind blood, bodies, and an enormous mess for the priestesses to clean up. But many of the people lingered to see what would happen between the fairy tale duo who remained at the front of the room.

Cece stood staring at Rainer and, no matter how much Xander might have wanted to fix this for his friends, what was left to be mended could only be tended by the two of them.