Amanda Rye
Chapter One
“Michael! Michael!”
I could see his head turn in the pressed together crowd of people as though he knew the name but hadn’t heard it in forever. I stood up on my toes and lifted my hand. I shouted his name again. He spotted me, recognition forming over his face. He gave a quick smile and pushed his way through the throng of bodies. I stood where I was, battered by everyone moving every which way. In a few minutes his tall frame shadowed mine, and I looked up to see hazel eyes above a quirky almost-grin.
“I found you,” I breathed, not realizing until that moment I had been holding my breath at all. I tried to smile back, but tears were forming in my eyes and it was all I could do to keep them back. I opened my mouth to speak again, but he stopped me with a fervent kiss that lasted longer than my shock.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I hissed once his lips left mine. “I haven’t seen you for years and you greet me with this?”
His grin widened as he placed his hands on my shoulders. “I was letting everyone know you’re mine. Nothing so complicated as you might think.”
“MINE?” My voice lifted in pitch and volume. I could feel my face redden. His hands were still on my shoulders, and he didn’t react to my outburst. “I am not yours, nor am I anyone else’s,” I continued in a lower voice. “If I hadn’t walked almost six days to get here, I’d leave right now. Don’t give me this fucking “mine” shit, Michael.”
We stood in the crowd, staring at each other. Well, it was more me glaring and him waiting for me to cool down. After a moment, he spun me halfway around and wrapped his arms around my shoulders. “You walked for six days?” he said. “Let’s walk some more,” and he began walking. He was behind me now, but it felt like the crowd parted subconsciously as we maneuvered through. I was still angry and uncomfortable, but didn’t sense any malice from him. When Michael did something (anything, really) he had a purpose. He wasn’t one to mince words or bullshit his way through life. So why was he now being a complete ass?
I asked him as much.
He laughed in my ear. “Hess—you’re still going by Hess, yeah? See this crowd?” He gestured to the masses of dusty people. “They’re all mine.”
I turned my head so he could hear me. “Can you please explain to me what it is with you and the word “mine” instead of using cryptic, toddler terms? People can’t be "yours", or at least in most parts of America. Again.” I wasn’t about to get into a social discussion in the middle of a crowd, so I didn’t say anything else.
More laughter from Michael. We entered a building by way of a dim, cool passage. Once we reached the door at the end, Michael stopped and let go of my shoulders. “These people are mine because I rule here. Technically, I’m the king.”
He’s a goddamn king. This should have surprised me, but it didn't. “So why kiss me? No one knows who I am. I’ve never been here before.”
“Exactly. No one passes through this area unknown to me. If they try, they’re caught and taken to a holding cell for interrogation.”
“Holding cells and interrogation? Michael, what sort of king are you?” I took a step back from him.
He deflated a little, suddenly looking exhausted. “I’m the king I have to be in this time. I kissed you so my sentries would think I was expecting you. We have history, so… I meant no disrespect whatsoever; you know that, Hess.”
I made myself look up at him. “Those days are over, but I guess I’ll let this slide because of my circumstances.”
“Circumstances that gave cause for a six-day walk and a sneak into my city? Whatever could those be?”
Tears welled up in my eyes. This time I could not hold them back.
“My son is missing, Michael. Someone stole my son. I need your help to get him back, and I won’t take no for an answer.”