Chapter Ten
When Arabella awoke, she felt so good, she thought she might be still dreaming.
She stretched her body wide across the sheets, expecting to bump her arm or elbow or leg against Lucian’s naked form, but she didn’t. Her eyes popped open, and a quick glance around the bedroom showed he was missing.
“Lucian?” she called, in case he was just in the bathroom—although, with the size of Lucian’s bedroom, that was twenty-five feet away. He might not even hear her. She groaned and flopped her head back on the mattress. The sun was streaming through the windows, and she felt like she had finally slept hard forever. Lucian had given her body an Olympic-sized workout throughout the night, and she was aching—deliciously—all over. She closed her eyes again and stretched the aches and pains out a little more before rolling up to sitting and resolving to actually go hunt for the man.
She checked the bathroom first, but it was empty. She called his name again, but no answer. It wasn’t until she padded down to the kitchen, and there was still no sign of him, that she started to get concerned.
There was no reason for him to leave the lair.
She looked down and realized she was still naked from their night’s activities, and if she was going to go prowling around the keep after him, it was probably best she got dressed. She jogged back up the steps, her body still filled with a low-humming buzz from the endless orgasms. It was giving her energy now that she was awake. She reached his bedroom and realized that all she had was a bikini and the still damp t-shirt from the night before. Lucian had always conjured clothes for her, which presented a slight problem.
She frowned. It was unlike him to be so thoughtless, taking off without at least leaving her something to wear. She dug through his wall-to-wall closet, looking for something that wouldn’t be ridiculously oversized.
Her heart started to kick up a beat, and panic nibbled at the edge of her mind.
He had left her naked in bed.
There was no note, no sign of him.
He’d left without a thought to her and what she would find upon waking.
By the time she happened upon a slim black dress at the back of his closet, her mind was in a full-blown panic.
Something had happened, something bad, something that he had to leave immediately for and couldn’t take the time even to leave her a note. She snatched the dress off the hanger and slipped it over her head before realizing it was some kind of cocktail dress, all shimmery and satin with tiny black pearls stitched into the neckline.
She froze. Why would Lucian have a cocktail dress in his closet?
She didn’t need anyone to point out the obvious to her— this was Cara’s. His previous mate. He’d held onto it for some reason, some sentimental reason, and here Arabella was throwing it on her body—the one he had so recently fucked and then abandoned.
She couldn’t get the dress off fast enough.
With tears in her eyes, she scrambled back over the disarray of the bedroom, searching for her bikini and t-shirt. She had barely gotten them on when she heard someone calling her name downstairs. Rushing barefoot to the door of the bedroom and down the spiral staircase, her heart was trying to outrace her mind in how fast it could imagine what horrible thing had happened.
“There you are!” It was Rachel, standing in Lucian’s kitchen with Cinaed.
“What are you guys doing here?” Arabella asked, but her heart was in her throat. Something was wrong. Something was terribly, terribly wrong.
“He’s gone, my lady.” Cinaed’s face held such worry that Arabella’s anxiety just zoomed through the roof.
Her chest squeezed like a mountain was crashing down on her. “Gone where?”
“We thought you might know,” Rachel said. She and Cinaed exchanged a look, then they turned back to her. “How did it go last night?”
Oh no. “Fine. Great.” But the way her voice hiked up belied the truth. It had gone well… right up until the moment she pressed him too hard, wanting to know about the sealing. Forcing him to remember what he had gone through with Cara. Oh God… she had driven him off.
Rachel was looking her up and down with a scowl. “Well, you’ve got your walk of shame clothes on. Normally I would take that as a good sign. But you don’t sound so good, sister. What happened?”
Cinaed was also giving her a questioning look.
“I… we…” Oh God, she was already fucking up. It didn’t matter how much sex they’d had, she’d said the wrong thing and broke his heart. Or just stabbed ugly memories into it. She knew how close he was to the edge with all of that. How could she possibly explain to Cinaed and Rachel what had happened?
“You need not tell us every detail,” Cinaed said, but there was a stridency in his voice. “We just need to know if you have any idea where he’s gone.”
She shook her head. “He left me…” She swallowed, a flush of heat coming to her face. “He was gone when I woke up.”
Rachel squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. When she opened them, her eyes had an ocean of sympathy. Cinaed was rubbing his face and appeared to be thinking furiously.
“He’s not in the keep,” he said. “And he’s not answering his phone. Leksander thinks…” He looked up from his stern study of the floor in front of him and met Arabella’s gaze. “Leksander thinks he’s gone to the tomb.”
“The what?” Arabella asked. She looked to Rachel, but she just shrugged. “You mean, like the tomb of his dead… mate?”
Cinaed blinked and leaned back. “No, of course not. That’s in… well, that’s far away. He wouldn’t go back there, in any event, no matter how, well… upset he was.” He peered at her. “Was he upset?”
“Not exactly.” Arabella grimaced. “Maybe. I might’ve said something that maybe upset him?” Oh God, this was all her fault.
Cinaed nodded. “It is hard to tell with my prince. His heart is locked away. I thought, perhaps, with you…” He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. But tell me this—did his wyvern come out? Is that what made him flee?”
“No.” About that, she was sure. “He was completely in control the whole time. There was no hint of any of that. We were making plans… I mean, I thought we were making plans…” Her shoulders dropped. “I have no idea what was actually going through his head.” All she could think about was how he had shut down… and now he was gone. There was no way those two things were unrelated. She was definitely to blame for whatever had happened. And that just made her chest squeeze harder.
Cinaed swore in a language that sounded old and Irish. “If Leksander is right, and he’s gone to the tomb—”
“What is this tomb you keep talking about?” Rachel interrupted him.
He gave her a soft look, and it occurred to Arabella that she had no idea what had transpired between the two of them. She’d left them alone in a pool room with just their swimsuits. They were raging pissed at each other at the time, and Arabella had been gone with Lucian all night. The two of them… well, nothing would surprise her, at this point. But she didn’t have time to worry about any of that.
“The tomb is where dragons go to die.” Cinaed’s voice was heavy.
Oh God. “Cinaed.”
“I know, my lady,” he said. “We must go there at once. Only… I don’t know where it is. That’s something entrusted to family members.” He grimaced and studied the floor again.
“Well, get this Leksander person to tell us,” Rachel said, impatient.
“He’s already left the keep. I think he’s headed there.”
“What about Leonidas?” Arabella asked.
“He’s on his way back from Seattle, but that will take time.” Cinaed was pacing again, muttering to himself. “But this is a matter of life and death, and protocol be damned.” Then he stopped and turned back to Arabella. “You must come with me to address the king and queen. For you, in this case, surely they would break with convention. And they must be out of their minds with worry, in any event, assuming…”
Arabella’s heart was lurching around with every word. “Assuming what?”
He frowned. “Assuming they even know what’s going on.” He flicked a look at her bare feet and back up to her eyes. “Although, one look at you, my lady, and they’ll be able to discern it well enough.”
What did he mean by that? But she didn’t really care. “Cinaed, you have to know I would do anything to make sure Lucian is all right.” She looked down at her clothes. “But I can’t go see the king and queen like this.”
“Agreed,” he said. “Perhaps you can borrow some of Leonidas’s substantial female wardrobe.”
Arabella arched her eyebrows but just nodded. “Let’s go.”
The three of them hurried out of Lucian’s apartment and through the keep to Leonidas’s. Cinaed explained quickly that he would hardly miss whatever she wished to take. Rachel ran through the closet of women’s clothes like a hurricane, tossing things through the air and searching for something suitable for presenting to royalty. Cinaed insisted that it did not matter as long as she had actual clothing on, but Rachel shushed him with such fervor that he quickly gave up. It only took her a moment to pull together something long and white and flowing. It was practically a bridal dress, but Arabella didn’t care. She tugged it on, and Cinaed barely had time to turn his back, before she was dressed and ready to go.
He led them on a long walk to the far side of the keep. Arabella was expecting a throne room or some kind of grand receiving hall, but instead, he brought her to a lair like all the rest, only this one had a clear crystal carving of a pair of dragons—their long tails curled down the side of the doorway, and their heads rested on each other’s shoulders in a dragon-type embrace. One had sapphire blue jewels for eyes whereas the other had deep amber ones.
Cinaed rang the bell or did something at the door that seemed to be the magical equivalent of knocking. After a moment, a gorgeous and refined older version of Lucian appeared at the door. Arabella had to do a double take before she realized that, of course, this wasn’t Lucian, but rather his father, the king. He had that same timeless look, only as if he had worn it for a few more centuries. And he was dressed in the same sort of ancient hoodie-type clothing that Arabella had seen on Lucian when he first revealed his dragon nature.
“Your Highness.” Cinaed bowed his head in an elaborate ritual greeting. “May I present Arabella Sharp and her maid, Rachel. We have a request of great urgency, sire.”
“Of course, of course, come in, Cinaed.” The king gave him a warm but sad smile.” You are, naturally, here about my son.”
“Yes, sire.”
The king floated his gaze past Cinaed to give Arabella a gentle glance. “My dear, you are as lovely as I have imagined.”
Arabella’s throat was closing up, but she managed to clear it and say, “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
He seemed to draw in a breath, then examine her more closely. “I see you do not as yet bear the seal of my son.” He let the breath out like a long sigh, then he turned to Cinaed. “I fear it may be too late.”
“I refuse to give up!” Cinaed said roughly, then pulled back, chastened. “I mean, we mustn't give up hope, your Highness.”
The king’s sad smile returned. “And now you sound like the queen. Which, I’ll have you know, puts you in good stead. She is rarely wrong.” Then he backed away from the door in slow steps that were at once regal and somehow ancient. If Arabella’s count was correct, he had to be close to a thousand years old. She could hardly wrap her mind around it.
The three of them shuffled into the king’s lair at his beckoning.
Inside, the queen was standing at the two-story windows that flooded their great room with light. Her back was to them, and at first, all Arabella could see was her incredibly gorgeous hair, chestnut brown and tumbling down her back to below her waist. She was wearing some kind of yellow sundress that flared and billowed out from her waist as if it were made of a hundred gossamer layers rippling gently in an unseen wind.
“We have company, my love.” The king gestured them forward.
The queen turned to face them, and her brilliant blue eyes, so much like Leonidas’s, were bright with tears that had yet to fall. Her gaze immediately found Arabella. She frowned and looked to Cinaed. “So this is the one he chose?”
Arabella’s heart seized, and she glanced at Rachel. To her best friend’s credit, she was keeping her very sarcastic lips buttoned. But Arabella could tell she was on high alert and already taking a dislike to the queen—and at the ready to come to Arabella’s defense, if necessary.
Which seemed crazy. This was Lucian’s mother—she would love him as much or more as anyone. They had nothing but agreement about that.
“Yes, your Highness.” Cinaed’s voice was tense.
Arabella kept quiet, waiting for someone to give her a clue when it was her turn to speak.
The queen’s gaze returned to her, and she slowly crossed the room with that same ancient yet elegant way of moving the king had. She kept examining Arabella as she approached, not speaking. Arabella felt like it was some kind of test, only she had no idea how to pass. As the queen got closer, Arabella could see Lucian’s likeness in her—the same carved cheeks, the same proud bearing.
She took Arabella’s hands and held them with her cool fingers.
Arabella tried to hide her shock.
The queen peered into her eyes. “He hasn’t sealed you, yet, my dear.”
Arabella shook her head, ashamed—was this the test? And did she just fail it?
The queen nodded. “He’s afraid,” she said, softly. Arabella heard a mother’s heart breaking in that sad, regal voice. “He’s hurting and afraid of losing you, just like Cara. And now he’s fled.”
Arabella nodded. Suddenly she wasn’t anxious about anything the king or queen might think of her—all she wanted was to know Lucian was all right. “What can I do?”
The queen didn’t quite smile, but she gave a nod that felt like one. “You might be the only thing that could bring him back.”
“I’ve already sent Leksander, my love,” the king said from behind them.
“And I already told you that wouldn’t work.” What must’ve been an epic fight between them seemed to be a mere disagreement, at least as much as they would show in front of others.
Arabella squeezed the queen’s hands, bringing her attention back.
More of a smile appeared on the queen’s face.
“I’ll do anything I can,” Arabella said.
“Give us leave to visit the tomb,” Cinaed said. “I’ll see her there, and I’ll make sure he comes back to you, your Highness.”
The queen bestowed an even warmer smile on him. “The treaty depends on him, Cinaed. I’ve been holding off my own visit to the tomb these many years in the perpetual hope that my son would finally find his way. I don’t know if you’ll succeed, Cinaed, but you’re a good man for trying.” She turned back to Arabella. “As for you, young one… I suspect you may be all that he lives for now. You may have more power in your heart than the rest of us combined. Go after him, please. I pray that your love is True and that you can bring him back. To all of us. The world needs him.”
“I need him.” The words were out before Arabella could think about how foolish they sounded.
But they brought a genuine smile the queen’s face. “Then go. Hurry.”
Arabella barely had time to nod before Cinaed’s hand was on her arm, tugging her toward the door of the king and queen’s lair.
She didn’t even have time to thank them.