The King’s Man (The King’s Man #6) Read Online Anyta Sunday

Categories Genre: Fantasy/Sci-fi, M-M Romance, Magic, Paranormal Tags Authors: Series: The King's Man Series by Anyta Sunday
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Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84840 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 424(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
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The mask is finally coming off. But some truths are more dangerous than lies.

Cael never expected to fall into Quin’s memories. Never expected to uncover the moments Quin kept his quiet observations, his reluctant admiration, the silent war he waged against his own heart. And at the centre of it all? A truth that shatters everything Cael thought he knew.

But the past is a trap. And while Cael is lost in Quin’s memories, the war still looms.

Reality drags him back. To Ragnarson. To a battlefield where Quin stands before him, not as a ghost of the past, but flesh and blood. Real and untouchable. Their reunion burns brief and bright before duty rips them apart once more.

As the kingdom teeters on collapse, rebellion ignites. The war isn’t just for a throne anymore—it’s for survival. And when Cael is captured, Quin will stop at nothing to bring him back.

Because kings do not beg.
This healer does not bow.
And masks cannot hide the truth forever.

THE KING’S MAN is an epic romantasy filled with slow-burn passion, courageous choices, and the relentless spirit of a healer determined to beat all odds.
This six-book series is one continuous journey and romance arc and is best read in order for maximum enjoyment

*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************

Ifall. Fall into a thousand violet leaves; into memories.

I take my time breathing in the carefully recalled details—the roughness of the bark; the woodsy scent of it; the freshness coming from the nearby river. We saved one another here, many years ago. It’s where I found my lost soldad; where I unravelled the truth.

This is a place where masks have been stripped.

Once again, I’m dressed like Quin has clothed me himself. The layers drape around me like a warm buffer against the crisp moonlit night.

I jump the last feet to the damp earth and turn from the violet oak. Rune-carved arches, dozens of them, spiral around it. I catch my breath and push against the first door.

The gateway shimmers as I step through into one of Quin’s truths. On a pent breath, I enter the familiar, sunny woods of the royal belt. It’s warm, birds are tweeting and summer blooms pink around tree trunks. I come to the edge of a small clearing cresting a hill: the woods spread below, and beyond, the grand luminarium glows, straddling the walled royal city and casting its light over the capital.

Some of the most heart-pounding encounters of my life have happened in these spaces.

Movement catches my eye across the clearing. A horse and its rider canter along the craggy edges of the viewpoint. My breath snags on the sight of Quin, carefully dismounting, landing on his good leg. He’s reaching for the cane strapped onto his horse when a loud crash startles the animal.

Quin tries to catch the reins, but the panicked horse shies off into the woods. Quin hobbles to the cliff edge and leans against a tree with a heavy breath that I can almost feel from here. Another crash. My chest hiccups, half on a laugh, half on a cry as I see my seventeen-year-old self scrambling down a bushy embankment into the clearing.

I rush up the hill to Quin, who has stilled upon recognising the agent of the chaos.

I remember this.

But I never saw Quin here. This was the day I met—

I get right in front of him but he stares through me, towards Chaos Me who plucks twigs from his cloak, grinning wildly as he veers toward this beautiful young man. But Chaos Me didn’t see Quin’s face then like I do here. Chaos Me saw a face veiled with magic.

I sag to my knees, overwhelmed. It was you. It is always you.

My heart throbs wildly as I watch the rest of the memory. Quin and Chaos Me. Quin and Chaos.

Chaos doesn’t even slow down as he nears Quin—in fact, he speeds up, waving a hand: come; come quick. When Quin doesn’t move, Chaos starts jogging. “Redcloaks. Hide, quick.”

Quin, still shocked at seeing Chaos, merely blinks.

Chaos, the fool, only sees a man—frowning slightly, like he’s unaware of the danger of being caught here. Chaos, the fool, grabs Quin’s arm and tugs.

Quin’s stare drops to Chaos’s fingers wrapped around him, and Chaos suddenly squeezes. Redcloaks have entered the clearing. Redcloaks have spotted them.

Chaos swears under his breath and tosses a wink at Quin. “Don’t panic. Just play along.”

I shake my head. I know what he’s thinking. He’s thinking they just have to act a little loopy. So the soldiers won’t see them as a threat; so they’ll shoo them along with a mere warning not to come this way again.

I cover my eyes as Chaos drops to all fours and starts crawling around. I wish I’d thought to cover my ears as he starts to whinny.

I peek between my fingers. The redcloaks stop abruptly in the middle of the clearing, watching on in bafflement. And Quin stares.

Chaos pats his hip. “Your faithful steed is here. Climb aboard!” He tosses his hair with a wild neigh, rearing up dramatically. “We’ll ride into the sunset!”

“You’re unbelievable,” Quin mutters, and slings himself onto Chaos’s back. As elegantly as one can on a pretend horse, he keeps his chin high and gives Chaos’s rump a dignified slap.

I shut my fingers over my eyes on a groan before peeking once more. Chaos is crawling along the grass with Quin positioned awkwardly on his back, pretending it’s most natural indeed. I slink after them, flushing. The redcloaks glance at one another, open their mouths and shut them again with deepening frowns. One of them points and whispers in his neighbour’s ear, “That signet on his belt, isn’t that—”

The redcloaks bow as one, and Quin quickly shoos them off; Chaos keeps crawling along, totally unaware.

Chaos hisses quietly, for Quin’s ears only, “Ride me proper. My mane, steer with it.”

Quin shuts his eyes, shaking his head. His expression is somewhere between horrified and even more horrified, but at Chaos’s buck, he grabs a handful of hair and whips it like reins.

Like this, Quin is held hostage until Chaos has crawled into the shadows of the woods, to a nook by the river where Akilah waits.


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