Chapter 29 Lowell
Lowell
“I canna believe Ditch found you on the Mount,” he said, seated across from Thane’s desk not long after moonset. “Had you told her she’s yours?”
“Nay.” The king leaned back in his chair, whiskey untouched, eyes shadowed by a restless light. “But she figured it out.”
“Well? Is the claiming as good as they say?” Lowell asked, half jesting, half curious.
He wasn’t convinced matehood was the apex of existence. Not after his nights with Meera.
A shapely, ireful witch who made him high with fury and near fucking.
Their evenings of talking, quarreling, and heavy petting had left him panting after her like a stag in rut. But…she wasn’t his mate. Under the full moon last night, he’d kept his beast leashed and fulfilled his duties with Straegan.
So why do I still want her so much?
“My mate bears no claiming mark upon her neck,” Thane said, glancing toward the window, where the morning’s sea fog pressed thick against the glass.
“She dinna surrender?” Lowell raised a brow. Few females resisted Thane’s legendary prowess.
“Nay. She foiled my plans and bested me.” He shifted in his seat.
And again. “Her loyalty to her kind makes her surrender impossible.” Lykae revered loyalty, and Thane couldn’t hide the admiration in his words.
“But I’ll find a way to have her. Nothing will stop me.
” Whatever had passed between king and witch had only deepened his fixation.
“My mam used to say that finding one’s mate is like discovering an interlocking soul.
I thought her fanciful. Yet each minute with my witch proves her right. ”
Lowell bit back a disrespectful quip about mass delusions. Lykae were taught matehood as a religion; no wonder they found transcendence in it.
Did he believe certain scents were more attractive than others, perhaps one above all? Aye. Had his own parents found great happiness together? Aye.
Yet this fated bond still made a lone wolf like Lowell scratch his head. The only way to understand it was to experience it. Sounds religious to me.
“It’s a fever in me,” Thane confessed. “Each time I breathe, I scent her. If I sleep, I see her eyes.” He certainly looked changed. Lighter, less jaded. For an immortal frozen into one guise forever, that was saying something.
And still, interlocking souls sounded like nonsense to Lowell. He’d rather wrestle with practical issues—like how to unite two realms at odds. “I’m used to solving problems for this kingdom, but I canna solve this one. The Wiccae hate us. You and your mate are a war waiting to happen.”
“They doona know us. And we doona know them. Can you no’ win Meera’s confidence?”
Lowell said, “She refuses to trust me explicitly.” Probably because she knew his pack would always come first. Of course it would. No doubts on that score. None.
After all, she wasn’t his mate.
“A problem all around then.” Thane tapped a clawed thumb against his glass. “There are rogue witches who might sell information about the coven.”
Lowell nodded. “I can reach out to them. They also might give us a way to contact Akelarre directly and negotiate a truce.”
“Go over my mate’s head?” Thane huffed a laugh. “Few things could enrage her more. Still. All options remain on the table.”
A knock interrupted them.
“Enter,” Thane called.
A Lykae page stepped inside. “My liege, an incubus by the name of Inkletter Scribe requests an audience.”
Thane leaned forward. “A demon visitor to the kingdom? That’s Arctos’s friend, the spy.”
“The verra same,” Lowell said.
Thane steepled his fingers. “I scent intrigue.”
“Aye,” Lowell agreed. “And mayhap he knows something about any demon halflings that are new to the kingdom.”
“Just so.” Thane gestured. “Send him in.”
***
Thane
The tall incubus moved like ink poured from a well—deliberate, smooth—and yet he was impossible to read. “My liege, thank you for receiving me.” He gave a grave nod, a proud male’s bow.
“You should thank Arctos,” Thane replied. “I want to know what has happened to my friend to make him so quiet.”
Inkletter parted his lips, then hesitated.
“Best to tell me now. No force in the Skein will keep me from finding out what you’re holding back. Lykae curiosity’s a powerful thing, and Arctos would tell me anything anyway.”
“That is true,” Inkletter allowed. “But I cannot reveal a patron’s details.”
“I could wring them out of Ravinelun with a single scroll,” Thane said dryly. “But never mind that. We doona get demonic visits often enough here in Craigdúr. Tell me the reason for yours.”
“I hear you’ve found your mate and that you might be having difficulties. I can assist.”
Thane and Lowell exchanged a look. “That so?” Thane murmured. “Interesting how word travels. The castle must have a leak, which does no’ often happen.” Pack dynamics demanded loyalty. Has to be Jastorgh.
“I make it my business to know the state of kingdoms. Yours, Thane of Craigdúr, lacks its rightful queen. I presume you seek a way to claim her. I have information that could help.”
“For a price,” Thane guessed.
“For a fortune,” said Inkletter matter-of-factly. “You rule the wealthiest territory in the Skein.” He named a brow-raising figure.
Thane’s smile deepened. “Convince me my monumental purchase will be worth it.”
“I know of a Sorceri queen who can help you divine a way to be with your mate, despite every obstacle. I will sell you her name and location.”
In the Skein, a queen wasn’t only a ruler. Among the magically inclined, a queen was a sorceress or witch who possessed the most skill with a particular ability. “Why should I trust the information of a Sorceri? They’re the maddest of immortals.” And one had already rocked this kingdom in the past.
“Great gains dance with great risks,” Inkletter replied. “And you need her. The sorceress and the mate.”
Thane turned to Lowell. “What say you? Shall we wager on this incubus’s word and hope I doona find myself wed to a leech like our friend Arctos?”
Inkletter scowled, the first crack in his unflappable composure. “You knew?”
“Aye,” Thane said easily. “Arctos and I have drained many a tankard together. For all that the Skein is our only world, it’s a small one.
” He smirked. “I doona know which of you blundered worse. You for botching the intel or him for trusting it. What a cock-up!” No one despised vampires like Arctos.
Inkletter said simply, “Yes.”
“I’m surprised he hasn’t dispatched her to the Helter for the monsters to feed on. That’s what we used to do to enemies—let the place torture them for us.”
The downside was creating more undead. Now Lykae never neared the Helter.
Thane’s chest tightened at a memory. Unless to seek out death in its River of Hell.
Inkletter said, “Do you want the information, or shall I sell it to one of a hundred other buyers who will leap upon this opportunity?”
“I hope I live to regret this, but you’ll have your fortune. Now tell me where this Sorceri creature dwells.”
“In the Helter.”
Silence fell like a sword.
Thane leaned back in his chair, laughing once. “With the monsters I just mentioned? O’ course she does. And for a bit more gold, I suppose you’ll trace me there.”
“I’m no transporter. Nothing could move me to enter that place. I approached its borders recently, and the malevolence there made even a scholar like me believe in true evil.”
“But I should stroll in merrily?” Thane asked, though he’d already decided he would.
“I am not aching for a mate. I need no worlds bridged.”
To Lowell, Thane said in Gaelic, “There’s game within those wilds. We’ll have to travel there anyway if the harvests come in light this year.” Craigdúr had its cattle and game, but would that be enough to feed everyone?
Lowell responded in the same, “A bloody adventure calls then. I’ll gather warlairds.”
Inkletter said in flawless Gaelic, “No, you will not.”
Thane sighed, then switched to English. “Should’ve known you’d be versed in all the Skein’s languages.”
“Yes,” Inkletter said. “I have three conditions for the knowledge I sell.”
“Canna wait to hear them.”
“When you meet the sorceress, you must tell her that a warlock named Baelor the Unraveler sent you. You must bring the oldest gold coin you possess. And you must go alone.”
Lowell crossed his arms. “Out of the question. The king of Craigdúr will no’ wander into a death pit without me.”
Thane shrugged, resolved. “Interlocking souls, my friend.” The very air inside his study had shifted, the ancient pull to his mate overruling all logic. “One day you’ll understand.”
Outside, thunder rolled over the swelling sea.