29
I hurried up the stairs—too fast to know someone waited for me atop them.
“Where have you been?” Arms crossed, Meront eyed me over the bridge of his nose. “I looked for you everywhere yesterday afternoon.”
Not everywhere, I thought. Thank Goddess.
“Maybe I didn’t want to see you,” I said, and moved to the wall to pass him.
He caught my hand in the hall. “Just give me a few minutes.” Thumb stroking my knuckles, he attempted to disarm me with his most dazzling half grin. “Please.”
I frowned at our hands, then took mine back. “I’m busy, Prince.”
“Unless you count climbing bookshelves, lazing about on armchairs, or wood-wandering…” A brow perked. “You’re never busy in the afternoons.”
If he only knew.
But he didn’t, and it needed to stay that way. Whatever he wanted could have him finding me tucked away in the east wing. Or worse—in Voran’s room now that the priestesses had indeed ceased watching us like hawks.
So I followed the golden prince into the west wing’s empty sitting room.
He crossed the large strip of red carpet to stand by an arched window. Facing it, he said, “I had a feeling you’d be upset, but you must try to empathize with Darcen.”
“Darcen, perhaps one day.” I stopped several feet behind him. “When my friend has moved on. But you…”
At that, he turned to me. An incredulous laugh spilled between his tight lips.
“She’s your sister, Meront.” It shouldn’t have needed to be said. “Your twin sister.”
“Exactly.” He pointed at his chest. “I know what Celestine needs better than most, and she needed this to end. But Darcen didn’t have the fucking heart to do it, Ayla.”
“Because maybe he wasn’t supposed to.” As his features cleared of anger, I shook my head. “Except that didn’t occur to either of you, did it?” Taking a step closer, I hissed, “Bonds are fated, and Darcen gave a weak attempt at rejecting her for that very reason.”
“He couldn’t have her.”
Humorless laughter joined my words. “He didn’t even try.”
“You know his father won’t let him, and Celestine’s a princess. She cannot be kept as a lover. Even if she wanted that, our parents would never allow it.” Again, he stabbed his chest. “I wouldn’t allow it.”
Dryly, I said, “You decided all of this without even letting your parents know.”
“Them knowing wouldn’t change a fuck—” He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Enough talk about them.” Gesturing to me, he said, “I want to talk about us, and how to get rid of this barrier you’ve put between us.”
Stunned, I spoke before I could think of a gentler response. “There is no us.”
“Ayla, there’s been an us for some years now. We’ve just been too scared to acknowledge it.”
“I did acknowledge it, Meront. While you did whatever you wished, I did nothing but adore you.”
His brows leapt. “And now you don’t?”
“Not in the same way,” I said softly.
“Because I shared Alixa with my friend to help him?”
I wasn’t sure what was worse—that he genuinely believed he’d done something good or that he couldn’t understand why I thought he hadn’t. I bit my lips to keep from laughing and turned to leave. “How righteous of you.”
“Ayla.” My name was a burst of shock. “What has gotten into you?” He caught my arm. “You’re never this…”
“This what?” I pressed. “Unforgiving?”
The Valadorn prince chose that moment to step out of the shadows cast by the stairs and enter the sitting room. As he did, he eyed Meront’s hand on my arm.
I shook him off.
Noticing Voran, Meront shifted his glower to him. “You shouldn’t be here, wolf. We’re in the middle of a conversation.”
“Excellent.” Voran lowered into the chair behind Meront, an elbow on the armrest. “It has been an exceptionally dull morning, and I could use the…” As his midnight gaze crawled to me, he dragged a finger beneath his mouth. “Stimulation.”
Though those thickly drawled words fluttered my stomach, the growing glow in his eyes locked my spine.
Voran indeed should not have been here. In this sitting room. Near me. Not while someone else was. Yet he had every right to be. I tried to remind myself that as I glanced at Meront, who’d edged back to keep the wolf prince in view.
Mercifully, he paid my silent panic no mind. Wearing an almost comical expression, Meront surveyed the Valadorn prince. “You’re even stranger than they say.”
Voran lifted his hand from his chin and grinned. “I would hate to disappoint.”
The sight of that forced smile weakened my knees. Wolfish. Devastating.
Terrifying.
Perhaps Meront thought so too, as he said without removing his gaze from Voran, “Leave, Ayla.”
I should have, but something about Voran’s demeanor had me hesitating. Had me thinking it would be unwise to leave these two princes alone together.
Before I could decide what to do, Voran’s eyes slid to me. “Do you always do as the golden prince says, little bird?”
“Bird?” Meront guffawed. “She’s a princess, and you’ll address her as—”
“Meront,” I warned. “It’s fine. Let’s just go.”
He looked at me, ready to argue. Whatever he saw on my face made his mouth close, and his jaw clench. Sweeping a hand into his hair, he pointed at the prince with the other as he walked backward on the carpet. “You shouldn’t be here.”
Voran tilted his head. “You seem to enjoy repeating yourself.”
“I meant you shouldn’t be on this fucking isle,” Meront growled low.
“Couldn’t agree more,” Voran sighed more than said and tossed his leg over his knee.
I trailed Meront from the sitting room. But each step caused a sharp prodding in my stomach, as if I was doing something wrong. When he reached the short flight of stairs, Meront turned, and I took the opportunity to look back without him noticing.
Voran’s finger was clamped between his teeth.
It stayed there even when I dared to throw him a soft smile, and those sharp prods became sinking stones as I headed up into the hall.