I cradle the side of his head. I don’t realize I’m crying until the first tear trickles into my mouth.

People are wrong to say that the dead look peaceful. They just look dead.

“No,” I repeat.

This man isn’t beyond saving. Not now that I’ve fallen for him, not now that I carry his child.

The men look at me strangely, but they nonetheless help haul the king into the plane. Montes told me that the Sleeper would be onboard, but I’ve never seen it before.

“The Sleeper—we need to get him into the Sleeper.”

Someone knows what I’m talking about because I begin to hear shouts of “Compartimiento de carga! La carga! El durmiente! Más rápido.”

We begin to move again, this time towards the plane’s cargo bay. Inside, I can already hear the hum of the machine as it idles. It’s bolted to the floor. My heart palpitates a little faster just locking eyes on it.

The king told me once that so long as the brain was intact, the Sleeper could bring the dead back to life. So it doesn’t make sense, this irrational dread I feel when I see it. Perhaps it’s that such technology seems just as unnatural as Montes. But right now I’m happy to set aside my superstitions if it means resurrecting a dead king.

We get him situated inside and I close the lid. I don’t know what to do next, but the machine has a “Power” button. On a whim, I press it.

The humming sound turns into a whirr as the Sleeper wakes up.

I watch the small readout as it begins to assess the king’s vitals—his now nonexistent ones. Then it begins scanning his body.

“Come,” one of the men says.

“Not yet.” I want to make sure that the machine is doing what I need it to. I know that means more time on the ground, more time for a potential counterattack should Estes’s allies decide to rise up. I don’t care.

It only takes a minute for the machine to get a respirator and something called a cardiopulmonary bypass device hooked up to the king. Five minutes after that, the machine begins cleaning the wound.

A gentle hand touches my upper arm. “Good?” one of the men asks.

I nod, backing away. Leaving is the last thing I want to do, but I need to arrange safe passage with the men here. If the machine can save Montes, it will.

If it can’t, then the world will know the undying king can, in fact, die.

CHAPTER 25

Serenity

I STARE OUT the plane’s window, my hands resting on my gun and my chin resting atop my hands.

I have all the time in the world and nothing but my thoughts to occupy me. There’s plenty to think about, and I don’t want to dwell on any of it.

So instead I gaze out at the lonely sky and try to feel nothing. It doesn’t work. Last I saw, Montes was dead, and even with the Sleeper’s best efforts, he may stay that way. If he doesn’t live, I’ll be queen.

The world won’t bow to me, the young woman who betrayed her land when she married the king. I might inherit Montes’s empire, but I haven’t earned the right to rule it. War could very well break out again. And I’d be the first to die.

That’s no longer an option. Not now that I’m pregnant. I exhale a long breath. I will have to be more ruthless than I’ve ever been if I want to survive. And I’ll have to be willing to get back inside that dreaded machine if I want to live long enough to have this child.

My thoughts turn to General Kline. I couldn’t say what I feel in this moment. Gratitude? Grief? Melancholy for the life I once lived? He banished me to this fate the day he made a deal with the king, but I might have died today if not for him.

My thoughts circle back to the king. I’m used to greenies underwhelming me. Montes did the opposite. Before today I couldn’t imagine him on the battlefield. I’m used to seeing him in pressed linens and suits, and while he has muscle to spare, I’ve never seen him exert true force.

Today he did, and he was relentless. He saved my life at least once, but in all likelihood, he spared me from death several times. Had he not so readily killed, we would never have left South America. Of that I’m certain.

The king who killed millions from his ivory tower now left it to kill several himself. That last bit of Montes’s innocence was snuffed out today. If he wakes from the Sleeper, what man will rise? Will he be worse? Better? Wholly unchanged?

I find I really don’t care. I just want him back.

It seems like a lifetime later that the overhead speaker clicks on. “We’re beginning our descent into Geneva. We should touch down in another twenty minutes.”

Geneva, the last place I want to be. Only a handful of months ago I’d fled that city, boarded a plane and crossed the Atlantic to flee the king. Back then I’d mourned the death of my father. Now here I am returning to the very place I’d once loathed, and I’m trying to bring the dead king who’d once tormented my people back to life.

The world has gone crazy, and me along with it.

It’s dark outside as we descend, and few city lights illuminate the streets. The airfield, by contrast, is lit up.

When I exit the plane, it’s to a crowd of the king’s medics and his security team. They try to shuffle me off to look at my wounds. I elbow past them and head for the cargo bay. Behind me, I can hear their protests.

I make it to the back of the plane just as the flight crew opens the cargo hold. I’m the first one inside, despite the commotion behind me. I jog up to the Sleeper and scan the readout.

I blink back tears as I clench and unclench my jaw. Medics and security personnel move in behind me. Some grab my arms and gently guide me out. I let them.

The undying king beat death yet again.

The King

I WAKE WITH a start.

Reflexively, my body tenses. The gold leaf molding overhead is distinctly different from the exposed cross beams of the Spanish villa we’ve been staying in.

I feel skin beneath my hand. I trace the flesh with my fingers. It’s soft, but the muscle beneath it is unyielding. My hand travels higher, rounding a delicate shoulder. Then the hollow above a collarbone. I feel soft hair slide under my touch.

I glance down at Serenity, who’s nestled against my side.

My stomach tightens pleasantly at the sight. Savage woman. She hasn’t left me, despite now knowing she’s pregnant.

This pleases me immensely.

My last memories involved gunfire and explosions. Somehow I survived it, in no small part thanks to the woman in my arms. Not so long ago she told me she wanted to kill me. But she didn’t take her chance when it was offered to her.