29. Lorant
29
LORANT
“ I showed Reyla to her suite,” Merrick said, his eyes meeting mine. “And after that, I took Mother aside to remind her to behave.”
Irritation simmered beneath his skin, though no one but me might notice. Erisandra catered to her son, but she’d best behave or he—and I—would make sure she did.
“How did their meeting go?” I asked.
“As best as could be expected. I was a bit surprised about Mother. She’s always been rather . . . formal.”
“She sneered, did she?”
“More than I liked.”
“I’d imagine she was hoping she could twist your new bride around her pinky finger, that Reyla would do nothing to usurp her role in the kingdom.”
“Her mistake.” He grumbled before his lips twitched upward. “She adored the suite.” His smile grew to full bloom, chasing away his irritation with his mother. “I love what you did with it.”
“I’m no decorator.” Though I’d done my best.
“You’re snarly and surly and—”
“Hold nothing back,” I drawled.
“You know what I mean. You and I are complete opposites, yet we always get along. My point is that you have the flair for something like that while I don’t.”
“Goodness and kindness don’t always come with the ability to pick out which color pillow works best with the sofa, or which drapes blend best with bedding.”
“As long as you didn’t picture her lying in that bed.”
Endlessly. I’d also pictured myself stripping off the sheer nightgowns in her bureau drawers with my teeth before replacing the garments with my mouth, but I would not mention that to Merrick, either.
I’d insisted I’d hold myself back, but there was no stopping this. Never.
I coughed, the best answer I could give.
He huffed. “Don’t tell me. Behave yourself.”
Also never, but what did he expect?
“I finally got word from my contact at Halendor Court.”
I pushed my dream of Reyla aside and focused on Merrick. “And?”
“Signs. Foretelling, I guess you could say, suggest it’s there. Somewhere.”
“Then we’re closer.”
“Nothing yet from Irridain Court, but these things take time. Years, usually. ”
“Which we don’t have.”
“No.” Merrick’s word was a sigh. “I thought I had all the time I’d need, but I’m sure everyone else did as well.”
“You’ve done what you could. Me too.”
“Yeah.” His gaze sought mine. “I think I’m closer than anyone else has been before. We can make this happen.”
“We have to make it happen. Now that we’re back at court, I’ll speak with my Irridain contact. I’ll update you if and when I have news.”
“Thank you. I’m grateful I don’t have to deal with this alone.”
“Never. We’re more than friends, more than allies.”
“Always.” The sadness left Merrick’s face, smoothing it, and when one corner of his lips quirked up again, I could almost tell what was coming. “I told her you’ll be training her in magic each evening.”
“What did she say about that?” I could almost feel her fire scorching my skin.
“About what you’d expect. You antagonized her right from the start, though I’m not sure why.”
“As you pointed out, it’s my way. I’m not gentle, like you. Sweet with my kisses, like you.”
“I imagine she finds my kisses more than sweet now.”
“Don’t tell me.”
He shrugged and spoke simply. “She’s my bride. My wife.”
And there it was. I kicked back my urge to shout that I’d stood beside her on the ship, that I’d said I do, that I’d signed my name on the paper.
No, his name .
I was merely borrowed.
Nothing good would come from me snarling that her mouth and everything that made up his queen was mine, because she wasn’t.
“I’ll begin her lessons tonight. She has a lot of power,” I said.
“Untapped from what I can tell. We’ll need it.”
“Which is why she must learn how to wield it.”
“Keep me informed about your progress in that regard.” His scowl would’ve matched my own.
I dipped forward in a deep bow. “Of course, my king.”
The air bristled with tension as I sat on the stone roof below the pinnacle of the tallest castle tower, the flag signaling that the king himself was in residence smacking against the pole in the wind. If I leaned out over the side of the stone roof by my feet, I'd see the narrow window I'd climbed through below me.
My black leather tunic clung to my torso, matching the black leather pants I'd dragged over my hips not long ago and the sturdy, worn boots I'd stuffed my feet into.
I kept my focus on the sprawling view of the mountains standing tall against the night sky, their tops dusted with crowns of snow. If I turned, the briny sparkle of the sea would gleam beyond the city below.
“I’ll teach her magic,” I hissed to the wind. “But I will not allow myself to crave her.”
I'd taken too many steadying breaths already, hoping to solidify the latter in my heart and in my mind. This wasn’t about me. I couldn't allow my desire for Reyla to cloud my judgment. My duty required whatever kindness I could host and professionalism, though the thought of being close to her, scenting her, kindled an ache in my gut.
Silence wrapped around me as I waited, focusing on the wards I’d etched into the floor and walls of the circular room below. They would stand as invisible barriers to shield us from unwanted eyes and ears or potential magical misfires. It wasn’t just about her safety or mine. I wouldn't allow anyone else to see whatever we might do there.
Her labored breathing reached me, echoing against the stone stairs as she climbed. That light sound made my heart barrage my rib cage, and I could practically feel the pulse of her energy luring me, urging me to drop all pretense and seize what would soon be laid right before me.
“Lore?” The word came out tentatively, barely more than a whisper, but it grumbled with the weight of her uncertainty.
I clamped down on my urge to respond immediately, and I took a moment to savor the sound of her voice threaded through with a touch of vulnerability.
“Where are you?” she snarled, the echo of her footsteps heavy against the stone floor of the room, followed by the pad of her nyxin. She should’ve left him behind, but no matter.
The walls of the tower seemed to amplify her frustration, and an unwilling smile cracked my face. Reyla faced everything with a steely spine and a lifted chin, and now she bristled like a fluffy pet chall upset to find her bowl empty of cream.
She stomped around, grumbling about how cold the room was, how stark and isolated the location. “And why in all the fates do we have to do this in a room that can only be reached after climbing a billion stairs? No,” she mocked. “Why would we use a room on one of the regular castle levels when, instead, we can work together in a cold, dusty, dingy room inside the peak of the castle’s tallest tower? I had to ask five people how to get here. Five!”
Her footsteps continued, her pacing growing louder. Faster.
“Well, fuck you,” she hissed. “You're not here, and I do not care. You hear that?” She lifted her voice. “I'm leaving. I don't give a fuck about this, because you're the last person I want to work with. I'll find another way to—”
She would not leave.
I slid down the roof and twisted as my legs plunged off the edge, latching onto the last tiles and shooting my feet through the open window. Landing squarely on the stone floor, I stalked up behind her, taking in the way her leathers molded her lush frame. Leaning by her ear, I hissed. “I told you never to wear clothing like this again in my presence.”
She jumped, whirling around to face me, her eyes flaring. But when a conniving smile curled her lips, my heart seized. “I wear what I want.” Her hands smoothed across her hips. “Merrick gave these to me. He said he adores how my ass looks in tight leather.”
My pulse thundered, and I barely bit back my jealous howl. Instead, I gave into the only release I knew best. The sky opened up and rain drenched down, blasting the roof hard enough to make her eyes widen even further. Her hands left her hips to clasp over her ears .
I shut down my fury, compressing it, clamping control around it before it took charge, and I did something I’d regret.
“At least you showed up,” I purred, stepping away from her overwhelming allure. She smelled too good, and those leathers . . .
“Merrick asked me to do this,” she said sweetly.
Again, I suppressed my urge to bash my way around the room. It was his right as the king and her husband. “Do you always do what Merrick asks?”
“In all things.” She dimpled me a fake smile.
“What about the other night?”
“We’re not discussing that.” Her prissy tone shredded through my feeble confidence. “I’ve already forgotten it happened.”
Lifting her, I pressed her against the wall. “It happened. You’ll never forget.”
She shoved my chest. “Aren’t you the cocky one? It wasn’t that good.”
I pressed my face against her neck and sucked in a breath of pure Reyla before muttering against her flesh. “You’ll never have better.”
Her hands latched onto my hair, and she gave it a good yank, making me lift my head and meet her gaze.
She floundered in the same feelings as me. I could see them in the heat simmering in her eyes and feel them in the way her fingers stopped hauling on my hair and wove through it as if she was unable to resist.
That cooled my ire, and I lowered her to her feet and stomped away from her, only turning back when there was enough distance between us to think.
“Don’t touch me again,” she said. “Don’t breathe on me again. And do not think you’ll get a repeat of what happened the other night. I’m married to Merrick, and I want him, not you.”
She sure knew how to drag my rage back to the surface.
“Not unless you beg,” I rasped.
“Since that will never happen, we can put it behind us where it belongs.” Her hand thrust forward, her golden bracelet with red stones shifting across her skin. She’d worn it since her first morning on the ship, a gift from her husband. “Give me my sword, please. You took it from me when I boarded the ship in Lydel, and I want it back.”
“Do you know how to use it?”
She rolled her eyes and tapped the hilt of one of the blades secured in sheaths at her waist. “I’ve trained with weapons from the time I turned three.”
“Good. You may need them.”
“Keep testing me, and I’ll make sure you appreciate my demonstration.” Her gaze shot to my groin. “You might find it a sharp but solid lesson.”
“Leave my cock out of this, and we’ll get along fine, Wildfire.”
“I don’t care about your cock.”
“You brought it up.”
“No, you brought it up.”
One touch or one whiff of her scent made it thrust to attention. It—and I—craved her like no other and that wasn’t changing.
“I’ll see that your sword is returned to you, but you can’t wear it with your prissy gowns.”
Her grim smile rose. “Watch me.”
I could do nothing less. But enough of that. “I selected this location for its isolation.”
“Dark and gloomy.” With a twist of her lips, she strode around the perimeter of the room, barely glancing at the table and chair and not pausing to look out the windows. “It suits you, Lore.”
If she only knew.
The nyxin remained where she’d left him, sitting, looking from her to me.
I stooped down and scratched his ears while he whined and licked my chin.
Finally, Reyla came to a stop beside me, and I straightened.
With her booted foot tapping on the floor, she crossed her arms on her chest. This thrusted the peaks of her breasts up and made me ache to slide my fingers across them. My mouth. “Fine, then. You’re here. I'm here. Let’s get it over with. I have a lovely bed I'd like to curl up in.” The twist of her blade came through in her words. “It's so pretty. Merrick had it redone for me, which I appreciate. His mother . . . Let's just say that she and I have some distance to go before we're sharing recipes for horig cakes or weaving flower crowns together in a meadow.”
“Erisandra would never do either,” I said in a cryptic tone, my gaze cutting to the nyxin now lying on the floor by the wall, his head swiveling from her to me and back again. “Activities like that are beneath her.”
“I suspected as much, sadly. She doesn’t come across as a person who likes to have fun.”
“I’m sure she does, though I’m not sure I’ve ever seen joy on her face.”
“Merrick said his father was young when he died.”
“He’d just turned thirty.”
“How tragic. An accident?”
“Nothing like that.”
“Then what—”
“I'll try your horig cakes if you make them.” The words slipped out before I could hold them back.
Her head tilted, and she frowned as she studied my face. “My best friend loves them. I'm a decent cook. Nothing fancy, but I enjoy it.”
“You should have a full kitchen at your command and every ingredient imaginable available to craft whatever you crave.”
“Yeah.” Her frown deepened, but I could almost see the loosening of the irritation in her shoulders.
“I crafted the colors of your canopy drapes to match the dress you wore to your wedding.” What was with me tonight? If I kept this up, I'd spill everything and that would end it now rather than in a few months.
“ You crafted the drapes?” Her eyebrows lifted. “I mean . . . Isn't that creepy, you decorating my suite?”
I shrugged. “It's my skill, not his.”
“And you did it knowing I'd one day lay beneath the fluffy covers with him? ”
“It's inevitable, isn't it?”
She shrugged.
I wanted to press her to tell me what the gesture meant, because from my earlier conversation with Merrick, I got the idea that things were progressing quite nicely in that direction. I bit my lips instead.
“The sooner we get this training over with,” she huffed, “the quicker I can leave. Maybe I'll see if Merrick wants to join me between the covers you oh, so lovingly selected.”
I bit back my growl. She was saying this to get a rise out of me, and I refused to satisfy my wildfire's need to irk me.
When I smiled, she sucked in a breath.
And when I strode right up to her, not stopping until our tunics brushed together, her body trembled.
The urge to touch her, to do everything she'd allow, roared over me. This was a mistake. We were a mistake.
The fates help us.
“I like it here in this tower,” I finally said. “It'll suit our needs.” The stark isolation of the room felt heavier than it probably should, but it carried a sort of promise, a tension that could pull us closer while the rest of the castle faded into the background. I reminded myself of my purpose here. “Has anyone foretold your skill?”
“When you say skill, you mean like Tempest is a beast master, though honestly, she appears to have multiple skills while I have none.”
“I'm sure you have at least one yourself.”
“I appreciate your confidence.”
Her frank, self-deprecating words cut deeply .
“You must know you have incredible power,” I said. “I can taste it in the air around you.”
Her eyes widened, and she stepped back until her sweetly leather-bound ass hit the table, making it rock on its uneven legs. “Keep tasting and any of your other wayward senses out of this, if you please.”
“I'll try,” I rasped.
“My brother said I have a lot of power. I'm not completely untrained. He worked with me. Tempest's aunt worked with me. But other than this,” she lifted her index finger and lit it like one of the insect lights peppering the roofs of the nearby caverns. “I can’t seem to do much of anything.”
“You used that tiny light to scale the side of the ship—mid-journey on an open sea, I'll add—to reach my room.” Her scent remained after she'd left, and it haunted me whenever I entered the cabin.
“I can sometimes generate a little lightning or flaming lightning, I guess you could call it.”
“My name of wildfire fits, then, doesn't it?”
“Merrick's using it too.”
The bastard. I'd wring his neck. “Is he now?” Death lurked in my voice, and I let it shine.
“I couldn't talk him out of it, so I guess you're both stuck with it.” She looked up at me. “Unless you'd like to choose something different?”
She was my wildfire, not his, but . . . “It hardly matters, now does it?” A snarl always came through in an awkward situation. “As for your skill, you have at least one. Trust me in this.”
Her shrug revealed the crack in her confidence. Her finger light extinguished, and her hand dropped back to her side. “If you say so.”
“What testing have they done?”
“My brother's very good at this.”
I brushed aside the defensive tone in her voice. “He'd have to be to survive growing up at Bledmire.”
“You seem to know a lot about my family and the fae who live on the courts in the land I grew up in.”
“I make it my business to know things like that.”
“You told me you're the king's bodyguard. A sailor told me you're also an assassin.” Her head tilted. “Who have you killed?”
“We can discuss names at another time,” I bit out. I felt no shame for my actions. I was never one to kill indiscriminately, but I didn't like the touch of judgement in her voice. “You'll one day realize you'll do anything to protect those you love.”
“Like Merrick?” Her eyes narrowed with cunning. “How can you love him yet kiss me?”
I wasn't going to discuss this with her. “I asked if anyone identified your skill.”
“No.” Her lips thinned. “Yours is elemental aegis.”
“Astute of you.”
“I'd like to lay claim to that astuteness.” She tapped her temple. “But one of the sailors told me.”
“Someone's been talking.”
“Don't kill him,” she said with pretend dismay. “I kept hounding him for information, and he reluctantly shared a few tidbits.”
Hounding him for information about me ? How intriguing .
“I'll keep your wishes in mind.” I cleared my throat and gestured to the items on the table. “Tonight, we're going to determine your skill.”
She glanced that way. “Good luck with that.”
A collection of crystals lay scattered across the table’s surface, and I approached them. “It's common for a wizard to use tools like this to help narrow down a person's abilities.”
“How?” She came over to stand beside me, her hand stretching out but not touching.
The crystals glinted in the moonlight shooting through one of the windows. It gave us enough light to see what we were doing and enough for me to watch her face. While some might suggest she wasn't even near beautiful, all I could see was how she radiated.
I gestured toward the low wooden table where I'd laid them out in order, each one a potential path we could explore together. “These will help us test where your skills might lie.” She stood too close beside me; it was all I could do to keep my voice steady.
“What’s Erisandra’s skill?”
“Glamour crafting.”
“What does that entail?”
“It’s a form of illusion manipulation. She could, theoretically, make a hallway appear like something else entirely. A building, perhaps. She could make someone hear sounds that aren’t there. Or even hide objects by masking them with something else. Honestly, though, she doesn’t use her skill often. She once told me it wasn’t worth developing fully because she couldn’t see where it would be of value. ”
“It’s probably a good thing that she hasn’t developed the skill. Imagine the havoc she could wreak if she used it all the time.”
“Exactly.”
She turned her focus to the stones. “There are only five here and you think they're going to do what my brother and others couldn't?” She had every right to be skeptical.
“These belong to a wizard, and they're only a few of the crystals they might use to test someone. I didn’t want to overwhelm you all at once.”
“Kind.”
“Not really.”
Reyla leaned closer; her brow tight as she took in the arrangement. At least she wasn't smirking or snarling any longer, though she only mirrored my behavior. “Are these yours?” Curiosity lit her voice.
“You think I'm a wizard?” I turned to lean my shoulder against the wall beside the narrow table where I could better watch her. And where the light breeze skipping through the room made it easier to avoid catching her scent. “I’m fae. Pure fae. Wizards craft simple spells and light candles.”
My mocking tone made her smirk. She rolled her eyes, resisting the urge to taunt me back. “Not the ones I've heard of. They can be quite deadly. Maybe you haven't yet met your match.”
Oh, but I had—in this woman.
“What wizards have you heard of?” I asked.
“My friend had an encounter with one once.”
“And they lived to tell the tale? ”
“Tempest is quite powerful.”
To kill the Bledmire king, she'd have to be. “Avoid wizards,” I said, though I couldn’t tell her why. “None will act in your best interest.”
“Are there wizards at Evergorne Court?”
“No.”
Her lips spread wide in a fake smile before smoothing. “I enjoy living, which means I’ll avoid wizards. Have no fear of that.” Her hand flicked to the crystals. “So, pure fae man, are you saying you're much too sophisticated for pedestrian wizardry?”
I liked the sparkle of mischief in her eyes, how she teased me.
I liked her , and the thought surprised me. I wouldn't trade Reyla’s feistiness for an ocean of perfect, compliant maidens. She was a firestorm trapped inside the skin of a woman, and I only felt alive when I was with her.
There was no denying I craved this woman, but this was much more than sexual. I wanted to share all her smiles and taste her horig cakes, to lounge in a meadow on my back with her in my arms and stare at the stars. To shove off my worry and fear of what might soon happen and just be. Her. Me. With nothing else between us.
My feelings were bounding down a hillside with no way to stop, and there wasn’t a fucking thing I could do about it. I was succumbing and almost welcomed it.
I forced my thoughts and emotions away, locked them down tight, and focused on why we shared this tower room together this evening. “The pale, glassy gray crystal is called fulgurite.” I wouldn’t normally bother to discuss the properties of each, but I wanted to point out what they could tell us about this complex woman too close beside me. “You've used your magic to create lightning, so I expect this crystal will hum or glow in response to your power since it can pulse and magnify a bolt's intensity.”
“I’ve used my finger lightning a few times, but I can’t see how it might make much of a difference in my life.”
“If channeled, use of electricity could do a variety of things. We'll address them if you show more than rudimentary skill in that area.” I pointed to the burnished gold stone with shimmering flecks. “This one could indicate an affinity for light manipulation or solar power influences.”
“I've used my finger to light my way in the dark, but manipulating solar influences doesn't sound like big powerful fae magic to me.”
“Imagine being able to harness the ability of the sun.”
“It's a huge, fiery ball.”
“Exactly.” My lips twisted up in a real smile, and hers joined in as if we were friends. People who trusted one another.
There could be no trust between us.
“The black one is obsidian,” I said. “If it glows or hums when you shoot your tiny beam of lightning at it, this could mean you have an ability for shadow magic and in a few lucky fae, nullification.”
She lifted her finger and lit it, then blew out the light, smirking. “Watch out there, Lore, or I'll nullify something I expect you treasure above all else.” Her finger pointed toward my groin.
I adored how she called me Lore. No one else had for a very long time. “It would take more than your fingertip to nullify that, Wildfire, but you keep dreaming that you'll see it, let alone get close enough to ignite it.”
“Keep taunting me, and you might change your mind about that.” She directed her scowl at the remaining crystals. “Get this over with. I've got a bed to lounge in, perhaps with someone special.”
The time was coming when Merrick's knowing smirk would grate through me like the dullest blade, but it wouldn't be this night.
“Amethyst is the purple stone. If you ignite it, it means your power could include mental projection or emotional influence.”
“That might be interesting. I'd like to influence a few people. Although, I don’t need manipulated enemies. I need friends. All I have are you and Merrick. Lord Briscalar, perhaps.”
“You see me as a friend?”
“Don’t push it.”
“You’re the one who mentioned it.”
She shook her head.
“You’ll have many friends.” They wouldn't be able to resist her. And if they did, well . . . I wasn’t above making sure it happened.
“And the last one?” She waved to the green stone with dark gray swirls.
“Malachite could show us if you have the ability to manipulate plants.”
“I suppose that would be great if I was a gardener. ”
“Imagine making trees move at your will, branches whipping through the air, or controlling vines.”
“I'd prefer to avoid vines, if that's alright with you,” she said with a shiver. “Someone used vines to . . .”
“What did he do to you?” I growled.
“He's dead. He won't coil his nasty vines around my wrists and ankles to pin me in place any longer. He can’t drain me.”
“Who. Fucking. Drained you?” I stormed toward her, my hands lifted, and my fingers curled into claws. I latched onto her shoulders and glared down at her. “Tell me!”
Her eyes widened, and she must've responded instinctively, because she lifted her hand and shot a bolt of flaming lightning right at me.