Read Online The Phantom King (The Kings) by Heather Killough-Walden - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Heather Killough-Walden
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form, but he had located someone else . Someone he could not comprehend, could not fathom, and who should not have existed: Amunet’s daughter.
She was here in this hospital. He’d been watching her over the last few months, though she and her multitude of protectors had no idea he was there. She looked like her mother; her eyes were similar. Dannai Caige had eyes like muted rainbows, green, blue, brown and gold. Her husband lovingly referred to them as “kaleidoscope eyes.” Her hair was similar. Her bone structure. And she carried her mother’s ability to heal.
It was hard for Ramses to look upon this woman while his queen was out there in this n ew and strange world, her heart beat so weak he could barely feel it. It was hard for so many reasons. Danna i Caige had no idea who she was. She had no clue w hat kind of blood ran through her veins.
Ramses would make cer tain she knew in time. For now however, she had more important things on her young mind. U nder the May sun and moon, she had given birth to Amunet’s grandchildren.
He had to see them. He had to see her . He had to know… who Dannai’s father had been. All it would take was a look, a touch, and he would have the answer he s ought. It burned in his veins, this question unanswered, a rhythmic threat that pulsed with every beat of his ancient heart. Someone had touched his mate, his bride. His Amunet.
And Ramses wanted his name .
Dannai’s room was up ahead and to the left. Ramses released thin tendrils of his magic as he walked, clearing his way of any curious or questioning individuals. Nurses and attendants moved around him like currents in a stream around a stone, affording him room and leaving him alone.
Amunet’s daughter had sent most of her would-be protectors away for the night. Aside from her husband, she’d wanted to be alone with her newborn children . That even the Warlock King had acquiesced to her stern wishes bore credence to the goddess soul she carried. She was her mother’s daughter through and through.
He felt proud. He was a nxious, confused, and angry ; she was not even his child . But against reason, he felt proud all the same .
The door swung open on quiet, well-oiled hinges when he turned the knob, and he hesitated only slightly before moving forward into the darkness. Dannai’s werewolf husband lay sprawled on the large chair beside the bed, his dark head thrown back over the chair’s rest. Dannai slept on the hospital bed, her mass of ebon hair spilling over the pillow and sheets, her sleeping fingers clutched around the bar of the bassinet beside her even in slumber.
Ramses’ gaze cut to the husband, and knowing that he would have a “ new father’s ” fight on his hands if Caige awoke, Ramses used a good deal of his magic then and there to place a cloak of deeper unconsciousness over the dangerous man.
Then he turned his attention back to Amunet’s daughter – and the bassinet beside her. With legs that felt like lead, the god of gods made his way to the bed. Inside the bassinet rested two tiny, perfect infants. One was wrapped in pink, the other blue. Atop the babies’ heads were soft knit caps to keep them warm. From beneath these caps, wisps of hair peeked. The boy’s hair was thick and blac k. The girl’s was lighter and finer.
Like Amunet’s.
Ramses could hear his mortal blood racing through his avatar veins as he reached out to touch the female child. It seemed to tak e forever; time adopted a stretched quality, blurring the rest of the world and tunneling his vision.
With the tender ness of someone who was already aware of the truth deep inside, Ramses placed his fingertips to the infant’s cheek. She opened her eyes. A kaleidoscope of color greeted him, utterly at odds with how a newborn’s eyes normally appear.
He looked into those irises, focused on the pupils, and met the baby’s spirit half way. And he knew. The girl’s name was Jazarah – princess. It was fitting. Because though it
She was here in this hospital. He’d been watching her over the last few months, though she and her multitude of protectors had no idea he was there. She looked like her mother; her eyes were similar. Dannai Caige had eyes like muted rainbows, green, blue, brown and gold. Her husband lovingly referred to them as “kaleidoscope eyes.” Her hair was similar. Her bone structure. And she carried her mother’s ability to heal.
It was hard for Ramses to look upon this woman while his queen was out there in this n ew and strange world, her heart beat so weak he could barely feel it. It was hard for so many reasons. Danna i Caige had no idea who she was. She had no clue w hat kind of blood ran through her veins.
Ramses would make cer tain she knew in time. For now however, she had more important things on her young mind. U nder the May sun and moon, she had given birth to Amunet’s grandchildren.
He had to see them. He had to see her . He had to know… who Dannai’s father had been. All it would take was a look, a touch, and he would have the answer he s ought. It burned in his veins, this question unanswered, a rhythmic threat that pulsed with every beat of his ancient heart. Someone had touched his mate, his bride. His Amunet.
And Ramses wanted his name .
Dannai’s room was up ahead and to the left. Ramses released thin tendrils of his magic as he walked, clearing his way of any curious or questioning individuals. Nurses and attendants moved around him like currents in a stream around a stone, affording him room and leaving him alone.
Amunet’s daughter had sent most of her would-be protectors away for the night. Aside from her husband, she’d wanted to be alone with her newborn children . That even the Warlock King had acquiesced to her stern wishes bore credence to the goddess soul she carried. She was her mother’s daughter through and through.
He felt proud. He was a nxious, confused, and angry ; she was not even his child . But against reason, he felt proud all the same .
The door swung open on quiet, well-oiled hinges when he turned the knob, and he hesitated only slightly before moving forward into the darkness. Dannai’s werewolf husband lay sprawled on the large chair beside the bed, his dark head thrown back over the chair’s rest. Dannai slept on the hospital bed, her mass of ebon hair spilling over the pillow and sheets, her sleeping fingers clutched around the bar of the bassinet beside her even in slumber.
Ramses’ gaze cut to the husband, and knowing that he would have a “ new father’s ” fight on his hands if Caige awoke, Ramses used a good deal of his magic then and there to place a cloak of deeper unconsciousness over the dangerous man.
Then he turned his attention back to Amunet’s daughter – and the bassinet beside her. With legs that felt like lead, the god of gods made his way to the bed. Inside the bassinet rested two tiny, perfect infants. One was wrapped in pink, the other blue. Atop the babies’ heads were soft knit caps to keep them warm. From beneath these caps, wisps of hair peeked. The boy’s hair was thick and blac k. The girl’s was lighter and finer.
Like Amunet’s.
Ramses could hear his mortal blood racing through his avatar veins as he reached out to touch the female child. It seemed to tak e forever; time adopted a stretched quality, blurring the rest of the world and tunneling his vision.
With the tender ness of someone who was already aware of the truth deep inside, Ramses placed his fingertips to the infant’s cheek. She opened her eyes. A kaleidoscope of color greeted him, utterly at odds with how a newborn’s eyes normally appear.
He looked into those irises, focused on the pupils, and met the baby’s spirit half way. And he knew. The girl’s name was Jazarah – princess. It was fitting. Because though it
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