Eidolon (Wraith Kings, #2)

by Grace Draven

If her physical strength equaled that of her character, she could carry a loaded wagon on her back up a mountainside and never break a sweat.

“Privilege,” she said gently, “gives the crown its shine. Duty gives it its weight.

“I will not give you up,” he vowed between clenched teeth. “I will suffer the ritual, gladly. Let it rip me apart and put me back together again. I will rob my people of their magic and fight the galla. I will not renounce my wife.” He shook against her, burying his face in her neck. “Don’t leave me, Ildiko,” he implored. “The burden is only bearable because you’re here.”

It had taken every last drop of control not to shake her, shout at her and ultimately grovel at her feet and beg her to stay.

“You are my queen,” he murmured into her hair. “And my queen you will remain.” She replied with a slurred “I love you, Brishen,” and he exerted all his willpower not to crush her to him, meld her into his skin. Keep her safe. Keep her close.

“I would have been content to live my life as just Brishen,” he whispered into her hair. “Who was loved by Ildiko.”

“I’ll sleep long and hard when I’m dead. You defy death by celebrating life.”

She was life and hope and strength, and he drew on all three as he bent his head to kiss her deeply.

“No. Nothing so grand. I’m content to live my life as just Ildiko,” she said softly, repeating words similar to those he once whispered in her hair when he thought her asleep. “Who is loved by Brishen.”