Tower of Tempest: A Steamy Fantasy Romance (Stolen Crowns Book 3)

Chapter 38

We sat in a small parlor off to the side of the main entrance of Emory’s house, Driscoll, Leoni, Poppy, and I stuffed onto a couch, Poppy’s wings furled tight to her back while the rest of us shifted and adjusted to keep from touching them. Water dripped off of us onto the couch, a fire crackled in the hearth, the warmth seeping into me. Hopefully it would help dry our clothes faster.

Emory had been on her way home from an outing, riding in her carriage when she’d seen the commotion in the sky. Poppy had explained everything to Emory during the ride to her home, Emory silent the entire time. We’d arrived at her house, built straight into the side of the isle, like many of the nobles’ homes here, and she’d ushered us inside without a word. Thankfully her husband was currently out, but he’d be home soon.

Now Emory paced before us, muttering to herself, brows furrowed, and I wondered if we’d somehow broken part of her brain.

I sent a questioning look at the others, Driscoll just shrugging like he had no clue what to do.

The jagged stone walls and ceiling made it feel like we were sitting in a cave, yet there was warmth to it all with the flickering sconces on the walls, the plush rugs lying across the floor, and the maroon couch, thick and soft, where we sat. A window was built into the rough stone, letting in the final rays of sunlight as it disappeared over the horizon.

My leg grazed Poppy’s, and no matter how many times she moved hers away, it was impossible for some part of our bodies not to be touching with how close we were, bringing back memories of the night before. Blood and water, I couldn’t believe it was just last night I was kissing her on that balcony, feeling her warm body against mine, devouring her like a starved man. I was starved, and she was the only thing that could satiate me.

“You’re breathing loudly again,” Leoni said to Driscoll.

I massaged my temples. “Let’s play the quiet game,” I suggested like they were five.

“Well, I know who’d be winning,” Driscoll replied airily, and everyone’s gaze shifted to Poppy.

She fidgeted with her hands, that long brown hair cascading down her shoulders in loose curls.

“I have a lot on my mind,” Poppy finally said.

“Did something happen between you two?” Driscoll’s eyes shifted between us. “I’m sensing an energy.”

Poppy’s face flushed.

“Oh,” Driscoll said with interest. “Damn, I’m good.”

“Something happened between you?” Leoni asked, far too curious.

I glared at both of them and slashed a finger across my throat. This was not the place nor the time. To be fair, Emory didn’t seem to notice or hear us, but I’d be damned if they ferreted out what occurred between me and Poppy. That night was for us and us alone.

Poppy cleared her throat. “We just . . . talked.”

Talked, indeed.

We actually did need to talk, but I didn’t even know what I’d say. Almost losing Poppy as we dropped through the sky just cemented my belief that I couldn’t risk anything coming between us. Things already felt tense, off. All because I couldn’t keep my mouth off her.

“Can we speak?” Emory said abruptly, stopping and facing us. Her white-blond hair fell down to her shoulders, her matching brows pinched, her icy blue gaze fixed on Poppy. “In private? I need to ask some questions, and no offense to you three, but I don’t know you.” She flailed her hands about, pointing to Poppy. “I mean, I don’t really know you, either, but I at least have spoken to you a handful of times.”

Poppy rose from her seat. “Yes, of course. We can go somewhere private and I’ll answer any questions you have.”

Relief passed over Emory’s face, her skin so pale, so smooth and flawless it almost looked like snow. “Great. We’ll be back shortly,” she said to the rest of us, walking out of the parlor and going to her left, Poppy trailing after her, sending us one last backward glance before disappearing.

Driscoll turned to me. “What happened on that balcony?” His eyes glittered.

“Nothing,” I said quickly.

Driscoll gave me a look that said he didn’t believe a word that came out of my mouth. “Oh please. The tension between you two is so thick it’s suffocating.”

Leoni leaned over and whispered, “Is that why you got arrested? Because you did some canoodling on a balcony like an idiot? You were supposed to be incognito.”

“Canoodling?” Driscoll asked. “You really love to burst all my fantasies, you know.” He directed his attention back to me. “Please tell me you did more than canoodle.”

“Don’t encourage this.” Leoni glared at Driscoll. “The only thing we should be focusing on right now is getting the prince’s shadow back.” Her head thunked back against the couch. “This entire thing has been a nightmare. I’m just trying to do my job.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, hating the defeat in her voice. “We’re going to get my shadow. I promise. Just after we?—”

“Prince Lochlan,” Leoni burst out. “We’re not going to get your shadow. Just admit it. It’s been one thing after another. We just need to get to the tower. We just need to rescue this woman. We just need to let her live a little. We just need to teach her to use her magic. We just need to help her find her gran. We just need to see if she’s the princess. So now what? What’s the next excuse? Why can’t we find your shadow this time?”

Her eyes blazed, and this time, instead of guilt rising inside of me, it was anger.

I jumped from the couch, fists curling at my sides. “You know what? I won’t apologize to you, because that woman out there? She needs our help. She’s in danger. The shadow king is after her, and now, the sky king is as well. She has been selfless every part of this journey. She’s offered to cook for us, clean, she offered to let you train her to impress me.”

Leoni’s face went slack for a moment.

“Oh yes, I know about that.” I looked at Driscoll. “She entertains all your gossip, listening to your stories and asking follow-up questions about the mind-numbing soap operas you spin.”

Driscoll’s mouth dropped open.

“She’s the first person to ever ask me to tell her my troubles, to make me feel like it’s okay to unburden them on her, that I don’t always have to be the happy, cheerful, teasing Loch. That sometimes, I can be the one who’s in pain. So, frankly, I don’t give a fuck about my shadow. All I care about is making sure Poppy is safe. Because that is everything. She is everything.”

Leoni and Driscoll stared at me with wide eyes, and I realized my chest was heaving, blood pumping through my veins.

“You’re in love with her,” Leoni said slowly.

“What?” I snapped, shoving a hand through my hair.

“That explains all of this. Of course it does. I thought you were just being your usual helpful self, trying to solve other people’s problems like a selfless idiot, but it’s so much more than that. You love her.”

“What in the bloody earth happened on that balcony?” Driscoll asked, leaning forward, chin propped in his hands.

I blinked a few times. Love. Holy fucking bloody water.

I sank back down between them on the couch.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Leoni asked.

“Aw, that’s cute. I don’t think he knew,” Driscoll said. “You know, we should start a matchmaking business. We’ve played a pivotal role in three unlikely romances now.”

I sank my head into my hands. How had I let this happen?

“Why doesn’t he seem happy about this?” Driscoll said. “You’re in love. Go shout it from the rooftops. Shove it in all our faces. Make us nauseous from how sweet and annoying you are.”

“Because he’s scared,” Leoni said softly. “Because he’s not his sister, who jumps headfirst into everything. He’s not his brother, who always has a plan. He’s the one who stays out of commitments, who avoids relationships, because then there’s no risk.”

“Wow,” Driscoll said, “that was a really good analysis.”

I straightened, rubbing my face. “I can’t risk losing Poppy.” I thought about last night, how Poppy and I had fought—right after I’d shoved my head between her legs and pleasured her until we both saw stars. “Relationships can be good, sure. But they can also cause so much heartache, conflict, fighting.”

“Which you always avoid,” Driscoll pointed out. “Except just now when you yelled at us.”

Leoni put her hand on my arm. “Prince Lochlan, you’ve always been in the middle of conflict. Gabby told me about the all the times you defused the tension between her and your father, between your father and your mother. You’ve done the same for me and Driscoll time and time again.”

Driscoll stroked his chin. “Oh yeah, you have.”

“You’ve spent your life avoiding fights and conflict of any kind for yourself. Yet with Poppy, you’re willing to fight. You’ve been fighting me every step of the way. Doesn’t that tell you something?”

I swallowed the thick knot growing in my throat.

“Conflict isn’t always bad,” Leoni said. “Sometimes it helps us grow too. Gabby and I fought all the time.”

“It’s true,” Driscoll said. “They fought a lot on that pirate ship.”

“And every time it made our relationship stronger. If Poppy is worth dying for, don’t you think she’s worth fighting for too? You’re willing to risk your life to keep her safe, yet you’re not willing to tell her how you really feel because you’re scared?”

Well, when she put it that way . . .

Driscoll shifted on the couch. “Okay, but really, what happened on that balcony?”

I groaned. Leoni was right. I’d been so stupid. Running away from my feelings because I was scared of them, because I was scared that if I showed anyone my brokenness they’d run. Yet I’d already shown that part of myself to Poppy, and she hadn’t gone anywhere. She’d taken all my broken pieces and put them back together.

“I have to tell her how I feel,” I said.

“Duh,” Driscoll responded. He pinched his fingers together. “Just one little detail about the balcony?”

Leoni leaned over Driscoll. “That’s not all you have to tell her. If you have feelings for her, if you love her, then you need to tell her about those blue lines, about the fact that you’re dying.”

“Will you be quiet?” I hissed, looking out the door. “Listen, I’m going to tell her everything. Soon. But that’s a burden I don’t want to place on her just yet.”

“And when will you place it on her? When you’re dead and it’s too late?” Leoni snapped. “Why do all of you Asters make my job so damned difficult?”

Emory and Poppy swept back into the room, and I straightened, praying to the Seven Spirits Poppy hadn’t heard any of that.

“Well?” I asked. “What’s going on?”

Poppy looked tired, purple smudging the area under her eyes, and her shoulders slumped. I wanted to take her in my arms and assure her it would all be okay. And it would be. I’d make damn sure of it.

She folded her arms across her stomach. “I think Emory can help us find passage to the shadow court. She’s agreed to smuggle us out of here before the sky king finds me. We can finally find Gran.”

“That’s amazing.” I frowned. “And dangerous. Why would you do that?”

Emory studied her nails. “Because I love doing things right under my husband’s nose that I know would infuriate him. He thinks me the simpleminded, docile wife. Has no idea what I’m capable of.”

Driscoll whistled and nodded toward Emory. “I like her.”

I was not about to dive into that drama. I had no idea who her husband was and didn’t particularly care. I just needed Poppy to be safe, and I needed a moment alone to talk with her. As soon as possible.

Poppy’s eyes widened. “Spirits below.” She frantically reached into the pocket of her lavender woolen dress, digging around, then pulled out that necklace she’d worn since that day I first saw her in that tower. She let out a sigh of relief. “I can’t believe this didn’t fly out when we fell.” She looped it around her neck. “It belonged to my gran,” she explained to Emory.

I’d never asked her about it. Didn’t know its significance.

“I kept it hidden while I was at the castle.” She finished clasping it beneath her hair, and let it fall against her chest. “In one of my pockets, so it wouldn’t get lost.”

Emory stepped closer to Poppy, lifting the necklace that the princess was rolling between her finger and thumb absentmindedly.

“What is this?” Emory’s tone shifted to something darker.

“I told you. A necklace that I got from my gran. Well, took from her.” Poppy shot her a wary look. “Why?”

“Do you know what this symbol means?” Emory ran to a bookshelf that was stuffed full of books and parchments.

“It’s a snake,” Poppy said slowly. “I assumed maybe it was important because it represented my gran’s family crest.”

Emory plucked a book from the shelf, flipping through its pages. “It doesn’t just represent any family name. It represents the royal family name. Of the shadow court. And only two people wore special necklaces to signify that name.”

That couldn’t be. I leaned forward. “What are you implying?”

Emory found the page she was looking for and faced it toward us, a big symbol sketched onto it that matched the snake on Poppy’s necklace.

“I’m saying there’s only one way your gran had that necklace. She either stole it... or it was hers. And that would make her the queen of the shadow court.”