Chapter 4
EVANDER
Iglare back at the latch on what is to be our mate’s room.
“Oh Leo,” I bellow as I race down the worn, circular, stone stairs to his office—part pantry, part office, with a desk piled high with papers that I’m sure are from Kieren’s grandmother’s time.
“Leo?” I say into the empty space and pivot to the kitchen.
There are two cooks here today, both from our home.
I’m not sure where the head chef is? The cooks and other staff take turns coming over.
They incline their heads to me. I’m the right wing of the prince—not something my family thought would ever happen to anyone in our line.
But fuck, there are worse things than being destined to be in a thunder with the prince of Crest Wing.
“Have you seen Leo?”
The two chefs look up at me like I’ve lost my scales.
“Leopold—have you seen him?”
“Not in the last ten minutes, sir. Have you checked the dining room?”
I wave my thanks and dart through the kitchen to enter at the side of the dining room. Leopold’s straightening forks on a table set for four. Four.
“There you are, Leo.”
His head snaps to me.
“Leopold, you’ve put the human in our mate’s chambers.”
“Because that’s where your mate should sleep.”
“Really? You’ve hired dozens of potential mates over the years. Are you just trying to push this one on us out of desperation? I felt nothing.”
The Ancestral’s eyes flick to the ground in front of my feet, then scan up my body. The male knows I’m lying. It’s why I didn’t shake her hand. But that doesn’t matter. “She hasn’t met all of you yet. Or touched all of you yet. The ceremony will decide.”
“It’s preposterous—” I cut myself off because what I think matters not. Having respect for the Ancestral of a prince—that matters. Fuck, he deserves more respect than an actual king. I’m sure he’s seen some shit over the years. Plenty of shit. And a hell of a lot of it has come from us.
“She’s the one. You will see.”
“A human?” We’ve had other humans, though most of our mate candidates were shifters.
“A human.” He nods and polishes another fork. “Did you tell your guest about dinner?”
“I told her.”
Leopold blinks at me. “And did you tell her how to find her way?”
“No. If she’s the magical mate, surely she’ll be able to scent out dinner with her human nose.”
“Very well. I suppose it will be good to have a mate who hates and resents you when the time comes.” With his white gloves on, he places a well-polished fork next to the light blue china plate.
I look Leopold up and down. Kieren’s family Ancestral. Not every dragon family is lucky enough to have one. They are a blessing but also a pain in my ass. I cross my arms over my chest. Shit, he’s right, of course. “I will find her.”
“Good, because I haven’t given her a tour yet. We can hold dinner for you to do it.”
“A tour of all of Cloud Rift. Are we going to be eating at midnight?”
“The essentials, Mr. Slate.” He straightens a plate.
“Mister now? I will give her a tour, but you will owe me when you turn out to be wrong.”
There’s a flicker of a smile as he turns away. In all the years I’ve lived in the palaces of Crest Wing, I’ve never known Leopold to be so positive before.
He turns and raises his eyebrow at me in a you’re-still-here way.
“I’m going.” I exit the dining room through the main door and head out into the foyer.
I take the stairs two at a time. Actually, letting her wander around Cloud Rift without a tour, and without signing the NDA, isn’t the brightest thing I’ve done.
I pass each of our suites: Roark’s at the top of the stairs, then mine, and finally Kieren’s, and across the hall from the prince is the room we all avoid like the plague.
I give a firm knock on the door.
“Come in,” her sweet voice sings.
I open the door, and her face is crestfallen when she sees it’s me.
“Not who you were hoping for? Well, we can’t always get everything we want, Tiger.”
“No . . . again.” She pulls herself together. “I’m no Tiger. Never have been, never will be.”
“I see.” One of the last candidates whom Leopold brought to the house just about ran to my bed when I gave her a nickname: Pumpkin. I still fail to see the appeal in being compared to a squash. But then I don’t understand females. Kitten, maybe. “You’re more of a Kitten, then?”
“No, but I don’t like the sudden downgrade. Honestly, I was hoping you were Percy. With my clothes.” She pulls on the ends of the robe.
“Isn’t there a full selection of clothes in the wardrobe? Put something on from back there.”
“Those aren’t my clothes.”
“But they’re perfectly good, new clothes.” Clothes that have never been worn but replaced a number of times.
She crosses her arms over her chest, and I’m not an asshole, but I’m also not dead. The woman has a nice chest that plumps right up when she holds her arms that way. I cock my head at her. Her delicate eyebrows have furrowed at me. There’s no way this woman is our mate. She’s infuriating.
“Why do you have a closet full of woman’s clothes? Are they brand new? Whose are they?”
Ah, is that a bit of jealousy in her? I try not to think about my dick hardening in my pants, but the blood rushing there has taken away my ability to come up with a suave lie quickly. “Well, one never knows when someone might need a complete set of light blue clothing.”
“Do you provide light blue clothing for all your employees?”
“Of course. Why would you be any different?”
“Really?” Her brows have dropped. But now it’s almost like I can see her thinking. How much money would that cost? Why light blue? Will everyone be wearing light blue?
“If they are in the way of your own clothes, we can have them removed.”
“I . . . yes, I would like them removed.”
“Do you not like light blue?”
“It’s a fine color. But I tend to wear more . . . darker colors. Things that hide the dirt and, well, things better.”
“Things?”
“You know, black is more slimming.”
I flick my eyes down her toned body. There’s nothing she needs to hide. The curves I can see under her robe are all lovely. “Could you wear something from the wardrobe tonight, and then we can get the rest removed in the morning?”
“Oh, yes. Ah, dinner. I’ll be right back.” She pivots and the robe billows behind her.
That’s the thing. We’ve had a lot of candidates come through here.
And while none of them have worked out, we’ve had a lot of fun.
One of us at a time—never all three. We can’t ever share until our mate appears.
One of the rules. One of the many rules of our realm.
Not sure what would happen. Probably a curse from the fae and our dicks would fall off.
But if Raine can ever stop being so darn obstinate, I wouldn’t mind having a little fun. Perhaps a gag to keep her from talking.
I sink to the edge of the bed and stare at the washroom door. To her credit, it’s not long before she comes out in slim trousers and a silk cami blouse with a tonal jacket over it. It’s business to the T, but it fits her beautifully and shows off her amazing curves.
“Is this appropriate for dinner?”
“Yes.” It’s more appropriate for going to court.
But then, she’s going to have quite a bit of that with meeting Kieren for real this time.
And then there’s the question of whether Roark even shows up.
But I’m sure dear old Leo has had something to say about that.
The left wing will have to show up at some point.
“First thing.” I start to offer my arm but then change my mind and swing it in an arc to point at the door. “Tour. Leopold wanted me to give you some basic directions so you don’t get lost. There’s plenty to see, but a proper tour will have to happen later. If that’s okay with you?”
“That’s more than okay with me. What I’ve seen of Cloud Rift Castle is impressive. The mosaic in the foyer downstairs. The subtle use of color, the depth in the foreground shading. It’s a masterpiece that you walk on.”
I nod. “The mosaic in the foyer? The first question people new to Cloud Rift ask is usually whether the golden dome is real gold.”
“Oh, I guess that makes sense. It’s designed to catch the attention, and it does. But when artisans are called to put that much effort into a floor, it . . . it just makes me want to study every last inch to see what the designer and architect were trying to say.”
“Yes, what there is to say.” I have to stop myself because if ever there was a candidate who needed to sign our NDA, it’s Miss Fischer.
Cloud Rift is a story, the story of Kieren’s ancestors, the great queen who gave up her powers to have the portal built to the human world.
To the fae that . . . well, I don’t think she’s going to be able to pick up on the story.
Not the way the dragonets who are marched through the castle twice a year do.
They all know the story. Point to the mosaic and say look at her wilted wings.
Or then look up at the panels of the tapestries.
Calling out each part of the story. Miss Fischer couldn’t be that clever, could she?
“Well, let’s head upstairs for a quick tour of some of the upper floors. I have a feeling I know where your bags are.”