The Hunter and the Mage (The Raven and the Dove #2) - Kaitlyn Davis Page 0,43

he labored, no time to rest his mind. Maybe one day he would trust Lyana enough to share all these burdens. Maybe one day she would understand the true cost of being queen. Maybe one day they would together make the difficult decisions that came with saving the world.

Today was not that day.

The dream wrapped around him quickly, shoving aside whatever peace his sleep had brought. By the time he opened his eyes, the antechamber had formed anew around him—the heavy desk, the thick rug, the stone walls, and the chandelier powered by mage light. Malek allowed himself a brief moment of disappointment before turning to face his spy. Kasiandra always wove the most vivid scenes, smells and tastes and sights so real they reminded him of warmer days made of laughter and imagination and fun. But Kasiandra wasn't here.

"Gaspar," he said with a commanding voice. Like his other spies hidden in the world above, the man chose to appear before his king without wings. "What happened?"

"I just met with Captain Rokaro." The spy glanced to the floor, hesitating in a way that promised bad news.

Malek stifled a sigh. It would only make him appear weak. "And?"

"They found the dragon, but it died in the attack."

"It died…" He arched a brow. "Or they killed it?"

"There was an unforeseen complication. Captain Rokaro failed to inform the raven of the true purpose of the hunt. She didn't deem it necessary, given the nature of his magic. But the dragon got onto the ship, and he used a raven cry to distract it, then put a sword through its skull."

Malek bit back a curse. The raven was becoming a thorn in his side. Despite the worth of his magic, he seemed nothing more than a nuisance—winning Lyana's affection, turning Kasiandra from her mission, even getting through Captain Rokaro's otherwise stalwart defenses. Malek had learned of the promise she'd made the raven of a meeting with the king, an offer that wasn't her right to give, but he found he didn’t entirely mind. A curiosity he couldn't deny made him want to face the man. Maybe it would finally make him understand why Kasiandra now betrayed him with her insolence, why ever so often there was a distant look in Lyana's eyes, one filled with a warmth and longing she hadn't yet turned on him.

"They need to stop for repairs to the ship and supplies for the crew," Gaspar continued. "And the nearest city is Da'Kin."

Now that was interesting.

Malek cupped his hands behind his back, walking out from behind his desk to take a moment and consider the options. He hadn’t intended on meeting the raven so soon, but perhaps he could use the opportunity to his advantage.

"Tell Captain Rokaro I'll allow it," he said slowly, still mulling over this new plan. "But I want eyes on the raven for as long as he's in this city. I want to know everywhere he goes. No surprises. And tell her I'll agree to a meeting. She'll get the details next time we speak."

"Yes, my liege."

He forced the formulations to stop spinning—there'd be time for that come morning. Right now, he had other matters to attend. "And what of our little rebel in the world above? Did Kasiandra get the message you sent?"

"She did. But I'm not sure it had any effect."

"Hmm." Malek pursed his lips, thinking of the playful girl he'd grown up with, whose dreams of candied stars and rainbow skies once made the night his refuge, and the strong woman she'd become. Part of him was a little proud, he'd admit, but it was a part he had no choice but to silence. He could live with her hate if he had to. He couldn't live with the cost of her failure. "Perhaps it's time to send her another message, one heavy-handed enough to incite action."

Unlike Kasiandra, Gaspar didn’t ask questions. He simply nodded and said the three words Malek so longed to hear. "Yes, my liege."

14

Xander

The halls were silent as Xander exited the dining room and made for the practice yards, no sound but the steady echo of his boots. Many of the guards were still busy repairing the city and their stations had been left unmanned, a fact for which he was grateful. Right now, he didn’t want their stares—the questions in their eyes, the suspicions, the fears. Breakfast with his mother had been bad enough. People were still rioting in the streets of Pylaeon, their grief and anger now a