Healer to the Ash King (Dark Rulers, #5)

by Rebecca F. Kenney

I have never seen the Ash King, and I don’t wish to. All I want is to live here, in this beautiful village on the slopes of Analoir Doiteain, the “Fire Breather,” the highest peak in this region.

I am beireoir uisce, bringer of water. My magic guides the water from the great river in the valley, up to the fields on the slopes.

The Ash King doesn’t believe in the study or expansion of magical abilities.

Peach doesn’t know the true extent of my powers—the other side of what I can do. In addition to weaving torn flesh together or reversing its decay, I can also unwind flesh and hasten its corrosion. I can rot, atrophy, and disintegrate as easily as I can cure, renew, or rejuvenate.

“It’s what I hope for. Sometimes belief is all we need to make a thing real. Hold us in your heart as we hold you in ours, and you will be safe.” She pushes me back, holds me at arm’s length. “Look for the smoke, mo stoirín. It will guide you to the truth that lies buried under the mountain.”

I’m not sure who could love the Ash King. Maybe love isn’t a requirement, though.

Showing off my powers in small ways doesn’t bother me. I enjoy delighting people with my magic.

“Once the house is in bed, someone will come to fetch you. The King would speak with you alone.”

“You’re beautiful,” he says, and my heart jolts. “And you’re amusing. I want you.”

My mother always tells me that one mark of a good man is taking responsibility for his body’s reactions, and not placing that blame on a woman’s choice of clothing.

Why does he even want me? I’m not flattered. I’m not. I’m offended, deeply offended that he interpreted a few smirks as some sort of seduction technique.

“Let me remind you who you are. You’re a farm girl who happens to possess the gift of water-wielding and healing. I may have found you amusing yesterday, but tonight, I’m wondering if you’re worth my trouble.”

This is the end. This is where he burns me to ash. I’ll be damned if I become a living candle without trying to defend myself.

Teagan is kind. But she doesn’t realize I’ve already been hurt.

“That is fortunate, because I am no longer interested in your body or your personality, only your magic.”

reprimand me for it now that we’re alone. Interesting. He doesn’t mind a little insolence from me when no one is around to witness the challenge to his authority.

“When you smile, I feel as if there is happiness quivering on your lips, just here.” He brushes my mouth with the tip of his thumb. “And if I want it, all I have to do is…”

I’m exhausted. My wells of healing energy are deep, but this task has nearly emptied them.

The Ash King gave me my reward—an afternoon of sightseeing. And he gave me Owin.

“I had to leave you. You understand why. My beliefs are everything. The cause is everything.”

I need to get close to him and learn his habits, his secrets. He trusts me. He doesn’t believe I’m his enemy. But I am. I will see him undone.

For one burning second I hesitate, my jaw tense, glaring right back at him. A guard steps forward, hand upraised to strike me for my defiance, but the Ash King hisses “The fuck you will” at him, and he backs down.

“Next time, if you want me to join you,” he says softly, “all you have to do is ask.”

“They are wolves hunting for a crown, sirens who crave a throne.”

This is chaos. This is horrible. My whole body is shaking. I’m whirling around and around, trying to watch everything at once, terrified that I’m going to miss something and then someone will die. I want to cry. I want to scream at the Ash King for allowing this, for putting me in the middle of it, for not telling me what to expect. My whole body vibrates with panicked energy, gold light winding around my fingers, ready to be sent where it’s needed. I know my eyes must be glowing too, and I hope the odd effect doesn’t distract any of the girls.

Because I like him. I like the way he keeps coming to me, as if he can’t help himself. I like his fascination with me, his obvious lust for my body. I like the way he keeps making exceptions for me and bending the rules.

This man is my king. Ruler of the entire kingdom. Murderer and punisher. Wielder of a power that could raze the lands I love. Why do I struggle to grasp that reality in this moment? Why can’t I see anything but a weary, lonely man who comes to me with hunger and hope in his eyes?

He’s the monster. He wants to be sure that these women would have the courage and presence of mind to handle him should he get out of control. His future wife will have to deal with his occasional flame-outs, whether in public or in private.

“There she is,” says the King, pulling back, while his eyes burst into hot blue flame. “There’s the water goddess I’ve been waiting for.”

The King is humiliating me on purpose. Is he doing this because he regrets what happened between us? Or because I was cold to him this morning? Maybe he’s simply proving he doesn’t care about me at all, that I was just another one-night conquest to him.

Rince wants to kill the Ash King, and today is the perfect opportunity. He can’t kill the King. I’m not done with the King yet.

When a warped memory is crystallized into stone, and people build upon it, the future is skewed as well.”

“Evil doesn’t come from magic, but from people’s hearts.”

I love him even when I hate him. I need him in every way. And if he does not try to seduce me, I will do everything in my power to tempt him.

my heart full to the brim and sweetly aching. “A person might be persuaded to move from one mountain to another, if she could be sure that the new mountain would belong to her alone.”

“I need words, kitten,” he says softly. “Because if you do not want a throne, I might leave mine for you.”

When someone dies, everyone expects you to perform your grief for them. They watch your reactions carefully, to see how your emotions fit into their personal construct of how loss and sorrow should look.