25. Dexari

Chapter 25

Dexari

As the forest erupts with movement, Gorlag bursts into the clearing first, his massive frame cutting through the foliage like a battering ram. Behind him, my guards emerge from between the trees, swords drawn and ready to fight.

Looks like, this time, my second brought reinforcements. Rage coils inside me as their eyes lock onto Sloane.

"I said, stay back!" she screams, her shaking hand holding some sort of small weapon.

When the guards press forward, I let out a roar. "Stand down!" My voice carries the full weight of my authority despite my weakened state.

The guards falter, confusion etched on their faces. Gorlag raises a closed fist, signaling for them to halt. His eyes dart between Sloane and me, assessing the situation.

"Sire," he says, dropping to one knee. The others follow suit, though their grips on their weapons do not loosen. "We have come to bring you home."

I push myself up to a sitting position, gritting my teeth against the pain that flares in my side. A wave of dizziness makes me falter, and Sloane moves to help, yet I wave her off. I must appear strong and in control.

"Your loyalty is commendable, Gorlag," I say, my voice steady despite the effort it takes. "Yet the human female is not a threat."

Gorlag's eyes dart to Sloane, his distrust obvious. "Forgive me, sire, the circumstances of your injury—"

"Are not what you think," I cut him off. The possessive surge I feel toward Sloane threatens to overwhelm me. I take a breath, steadying myself. "There is much you do not know."

He turns to me, his expression grave. "I know the human threatened your life and kept you hostage. She cannot be trusted."

Sloane flinches, and my need to defend her, protect her, becomes all-consuming. "Enough." I say, my voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "Sloane would never hurt me. I would caution you to mind what you say about her."

"I do not understand, sire. You have always urged me to speak freely."

"That is true," I agree. "Yet there is something I must tell you. All of you."

"What is it, sire?" Gorlag asks.

"The female is far more than just a human," I growl, unable to keep the possessive edge from my voice.

Sloane drops to her knees beside me, her breath catching. "What are you doing?" she asks through clenched teeth, her voice barely a whisper.

"The time has come to reveal the truth," I tell her, taking her hand in mine before addressing my guards. "My cockspikes have emerged for the human female," I declare. "Sloane is my perfect genetic match, my fated mate."

The reaction is immediate. Gorlag's face pales, his eyes widening in horrified shock as gasps and mutters erupt from the guards.

"Impossible," Gorlag spits out, shaking his head. "Surely you must be mistaken, sire. I do not know what kind of power the human holds over you, yet this cannot—"

"Watch yourself, Gorlag." If I were able to stand and confront him, I would. Instead, I cut him off, my voice low and dangerous.

"This is just like the king of Owlf," my guard Vorash calls out. "His spikes emerged for a human female, too. Now she is the queen."

I nod, ignoring Sloane's questioning look. The tension in the clearing is palpable, thick enough to cut with a blade. Gorlag's struggle plays out on his face, his loyalty to me warring with his distrust of Sloane. Yet I will not accept anything less than complete fealty to my mate.

"Gorlag, you have served me faithfully for many years. Now I am asking you—and all my guards—to serve my mate with the same unwavering dedication."

A hush falls over the clearing, and Sloane squeezes my hand tight. I do not take my eyes off Gorlag. "Kneel," I command. "Demonstrate your respect for Sloane, your future queen."

The tense silence that follows is more uncomfortable than my wound. Gorlag's face contorts into a snarling grimace, a maelstrom of emotions flashing across his features. Disgust. Loyalty. Anger. Confusion. His hand tightens on the hilt of his sword, knuckles turning white with the force of his grip.

The other guards shift uneasily, their eyes darting between me and their leader, my second-in-command. The air crackles with tension, the moment balanced on a knife's edge.

I am acutely aware of Sloane's presence at my side, of my own weakened state. If Gorlag chooses to defy me, if the guards follow his lead...

A muscle ticks in Gorlag's cheek. His eyes, blazing with rage, zero in on Sloane, and I feel her sharp intake of breath.

It occurs to me I may have miscalculated the depth of my second's loyalty. And the consequences could be grave.