Chapter 71
RAINE
“I’ve never wanted to hurt Leopold the Alder family Ancestral until today,” Roark growls.
I place my hand on Roark’s chest. “Are you okay?”
“Are you okay?” he echoes back to me.
“I’m better now that I’m warm. I’m a little scared about what I’m going to find down there.”
“No need to be scared, my Duchess. I would never let anyone hurt you.”
I twist my lips. Except for the three of them. They hold my heart. I’m obsessed, and the line between reality and my dreams keeps being challenged.
“I’ve dreamt of this day, bringing you down to the hoard. Although, my dragon didn’t think about how you might find it drafty.” Roark’s thumb traces over my lips. “Are you ready, Duchess?”
He takes my hand in his and leads me down the first few steps. The scratches give the stairs traction as we descend. Kieren’s behind us, and when Roark and I are down ten steps or so, Evander pulls the thick wooden door shut behind himself. The thud echoes down the stairs and back at us.
It’s a long way down, and the wide stairs are worn and smooth in the middle.
It’s down far enough that when I turn and catch Evander’s brown eyes behind me, I can only barely make out the door above.
And the floor below isn’t something I can see yet.
With each step of my foot, tension builds in my chest.
“You doing okay, Duchess?” Roark asks, his silhouette long and drawn out in the light of the single bulbs strung every twenty feet.
“Yeah,” I say, but I’m definitely not feeling it. The draft blows my hair around my face. It’s eerie, but I trust the guys. I have to.
“Not much longer, Raine,” Evander says, his voice light on the wind. But Evander’s right. The bottom of the stairs appears, and the side wall widens the deeper into the earth we get.
When I hit the bottom step, I turn to Kieren. “I’m glad I don’t have to climb back up right away.”
“Oh, there’s another way to get out.”
“Prince?” Roark’s rough voice is deadened in the moist air.
“Only if she wants to.” Kieren takes my hand and leads me around the corner.
I’m not prepared at all. I don’t know what I thought a dragon hoard would be, but stacks of golden bars on a bookshelf; golden crowns, cups, and jewelry on stands; sparkling diamonds on display; and crystal chandeliers that aren’t crystal but diamonds, artfully hung? That wasn’t it.
“Whoa.” I try to close my mouth.
“Whoa, good?” Evander asks.
“It’s impressive.” It’s more than impressive. It’s so much it’s overwhelming. My brain’s having a hard time wrapping itself around how amazing it is.
“But?” Evander asks. He’s so perceptive.
“It’s not what I imagined. I figured there would be, I don’t know, a mound to sit on.”
Roark lets out a good belly laugh.
Evander shakes his head, and Kieren pinches the bridge of his nose.
“Come here, Duchess.” Roark takes my hand and leads me quickly past the golden bars, past a room with a glass door, and down a wide corridor. “This is my portion. How a hoard should really look.”
It’s a tall mound of gold with a well in the middle. Roark picks me up, climbs up the side of the mound, and places me on the side of it. It’s about as comfortable as you would think. Golden doubloons flow over my arms. A coin with a Roman emperor on it lands in my palm.
“Fuck, look at how perfect she looks. Damn.” Roark shakes his head.
“You might be onto something. Roark’s a bit of a traditionalist.”
“I can see that.” I hold the coin up. Roark’s eyes flash, and I put it back down. I try to stand, but the gold shifts under me as I do. It’s like trying to walk in a metal ball pit. Not easy at all.
All three of them are frozen, staring at me.
“Can you give a girl a little help?”
Kieren takes my hand and helps me down. “Come here. I have something else to show you.” Kieren pivots to Roark. “If you don’t mind?”
“I’ll allow it. She’s going to like it, so . . .”
Kieren lifts me up by the waist, turning me into the shallow edge of the pile.
A round ruby in an unusual setting catches my eye.
I scoop it up, looking at it. It’s mounted with a golden stem like it’s a mushroom.
There are even diamonds mounted around the edge that look like the white spots on the red mushrooms.
Kieren takes it from me, holds it up to Roark.
“Damn straight,” Roark says.
Kieren slides it onto my ring finger.
“Oh, I . . . I can’t take this.” The size of the ruby and the diamonds . . . The ring has to be worth at least half a million dollars, if not more.
“If the ring fits, it’s yours. You don’t insult a dragon when they give you gold. You have to take it, Raine,” Evander says.
“Oh, I . . . I didn’t know.” Then again, there are so many things I don’t know about dragons.
“Well, now you do.” Kieren kisses the top of my head. “This was great and all, but I want to show you something else.” He pulls me back down to the glass door. “I had this put in not long ago.”
“You had this put in?” Roark growls.
“Roark installed it. Mostly so his dragon wouldn’t eat the installers. I hope you like it.” Kieren pulls open the glass door. It hisses, and dry temperate air hits me: 68 degrees and around 45 percent humidity—the perfect calm in a stormy world for art.
“You have more art down here?”
“Just some recent acquisitions.” Evander laughs.
My eyebrows shoot up. “Recent? I’ve opened all the crates from earlier this summer.”
Kieren smirks at me. “These were purchased even more recently than this summer.”
“Oh, I didn’t think you had bought anything.” I cock my head. Is it true? Are they the anonymous buyers of all the Monets this summer and fall? I’m more than curious about what he’s talking about. But there are five easels, each of them with a lightweight canvas fabric over them.
I’m shaking because there’s no way these are the anonymously purchased Monets, right?
They would have just put them in the collection, not down here in their hoard.
I turn from Evander to Roark, and my gaze lands on Kieren.
His smile consumes his face. And in my heart, I know there’s no way these aren’t the auctioned Monets.
“Ready?” Kieren asks.
“Yes.” I’m trembling inside. Is it the guys all telling me they love me, or is it the paintings? Or lying on a bed of gold? It’s all so nuts, parsing through it all makes my head swell.
Kieren pulls the fabric off the first painting. And my jaw drops. Water Lilies, one of the rare sizes. This one sold at auction in Paris in late August.
Then he pulls the cover from the next one, and the next one. Another, another. One of his rare paintings, Camille on Her Deathbed—it’s been privately owned for a long time and has rarely been seen. It’s an intimate painting of Monet’s dying wife.
“Kieren!” I don’t know if I’m going to laugh, cry, or swoon.
Roark moves behind me, grabbing me around my waist, and I lean back into him. Definitely swoon. I can’t speak for a long while.
My eyes flow from the painting to Kieren, and my chat with Wren flashes back. “I owe my sister a fancy dinner.”
“That can be arranged,” Evander says. The environmental factors in the room deaden the sound.
“It’s all so beautiful. Hauntingly beautiful. So personal. It’s almost too much to look at.” Do I mean the paintings or the guys? Because they’re staring at it with such love. “It’s a wonderful addition to your collection.”
“No,” Kieren says.
The muscles in my cheeks drop from a smile to puzzlement. “Really, it is. I suppose this does make the collection a little heavy in impressionism. But I certainly don’t mind.”
“That’s not what he means, Duchess,” Roark says behind me.
I turn in his arms, staring up at his blue eyes. My heart’s in my throat. “What does he mean, then?”
“These aren’t part of our collection. That’s why we have them down here. We don’t want anyone else to see them.”
“Oh, okay. Did you buy them for a museum, then? That’s a very generous and thoughtful endowment. I’m sure you can get a good tax write-off and—”
“This is Switzerland. That’s not what we meant. These aren’t part of our hoard. They’re yours. ” Evander hands me some papers from a side table near the door. I flip through the ownership and authentication documents. My name is embedded at the top of all of them.
“I . . . I own five paintings by Monet?” There’s no way.
I can’t afford rent in New York City, let alone the security it would take to keep them safe.
I’m laughing internally. Where would I hang each of them?
That one would fit next to Kate and Chanda’s bunk beds.
And that one could hang by the key table.
But that’s it. I don’t think we have wall space for the rest. Though I could lend them to museums.
No . . . no, what am I thinking? I can’t keep these. I turn away from Roark to Kieren. He’s the mastermind behind this, I know it. “I can’t keep these.” I hand the papers to him. “I have no way of keeping them safe. I don’t even own a wall. Taking possession of them would be irresponsible.”
Kieren smiles. “We thought of that already. Look at the last page.”
The last page in the folder is a trust, with my name at the top. A multi-million-dollar trust. “No . . . no. I can’t.” I hand him the papers back.
“Duchess, we want you to have them.”
“But I can’t accept it. Did you give this to all your past candidates?” Not that I like to think about them. Not that I’ve really asked about them.
“No, Raine. We’ve never . . . There’s never been anyone like you. We’ve never broken the rules before,” Kieren says.
“I’ve never told anyone I’ve loved them before.
No female, not the way I love you.” Evander takes the folder and puts it back on the table.
“We set this up before we realized that we don’t care about the lightning.
You’re our mate. You’re part of our thunder.
When we mate, the paintings will belong to all of us, if that makes you feel better. ”
My chest fills with relief, though I can’t take my eyes off the paintings.
“Don’t sigh too quickly, Raine. Our hoard is your hoard,” Kieren says.
“But . . . you have commitments.” I’m reaching for him. Even as I’m calling out their duties, my chest hurts. And I wish I could be greedy, keep them all for myself.
“We do. And I don’t care about them anymore. You are our commitment. I’m committing to you.” Roark wraps his arm around me. He pulls me back to his chest and presses a kiss to the top of my head.
“We’ll find a way to do both. And there’s still time for the lightning to happen. It’s only October.” Evander winks at me. “And you’re planning a Halloween spectacular for the village children.”
“Spectacular? I got some decorations and candy.”
“Anything with your touch turns special.” Evander tilts my head and kisses my lips. He tastes of cremira, the spicy chocolate drink.
Roark and Kieren step into us. I’m circled by them. Encompassed by them. I’ve never felt so loved, wanted, and treasured. I’m not part of the thunder, not yet. But I can feel it coming. It’s like an itch I can’t reach.
Kieren kisses me next, and I’m dizzy when he pulls back, his blue eyes glowing in the dim light. “I love you, and we’ll figure this out.”
I nod. Because there’s a lot to figure out but nothing that can be done but wait. My eyes flick to Roark, but he grabs me by the waist and throws me over his shoulder. “I want to see how fantastic you look naked on top of my hoard.”
I grip his sides, the ruby and diamond ring sparkling on my hand.