Chapter 21
CHAPTER 21
L othar made his way to the top of the stronghold overlooking the port where the king had taken up residence. Unlike the convent, it had been built for defense and even the inside was composed of cold stone walls. Ulric’s private quarters on the top floor were no different, as spartan and forbidding as the rest of the building.
The guards recognized him and stepped aside without challenge. Inside, servants had laid out a hearty breakfast spread on a portable wooden table, but his appetite had vanished.
Ulric gestured for him to sit, then pinned a stern amber gaze on him.
“It appears you found something precious after you left the Trials.”
“I didn’t expect to. She’s not from this world.” The words tumbled out before he could stop them. “She was sent here, although she doesn’t know why.”
Ulric buttered a piece of bread, his expression thoughtful.
“How interesting.”
“You don’t seem surprised.”
The king shrugged.
“I wondered. There is something… different about her. Your brother told me that he had prayed to the Old Gods for help. It appears they may be taking an interest in our affairs.”
“But I didn’t pray for her.” His hands clenched beneath the table. “What if she wasn’t meant for me? What if she belongs with someone else?”
“The gods work in mysterious ways.” Ulric set down his bread and looked at him, his gaze uncomfortably penetrating. “Sometimes their greatest gifts are unexpected. Do you feel a mate bond?”
“Yes.” His chest tightened at the admission. “Yes. From the moment our eyes met. But after everything that’s happened, after what she’s been through-”
“You think yourself unworthy?” Ulric’s voice held an odd note.
He stared down at his untouched plate.
“I withdrew from the trials. I was almost too late to protect her when she first arrived. She deserves someone better.”
“Then perhaps you should trust in that, rather than questioning it. A mate bond is not given lightly.” Ulric’s fingers drummed on the table, an unusually restive movement for the king. “It’s rare. Precious. To reject such a gift out of fear…”
The king’s voice trailed off, his eyes distant.
“Have you felt it?” he asked quietly. “With Jessamin?”
Ulric’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t deny it. “We speak of your situation, not mine.”
But Lothar recognized the same fear in Ulric’s eyes that he felt in his own heart. The king wasn’t just giving advice - he was wrestling with his own doubts about worthiness and fate.
“My union with Jessamin was arranged for political reasons. Her father needs allies. I need stability for my people.”
The words rang hollow to his ears. He’d seen the way Ulric watched Jessamin at dinner, how his expression softened when she spoke. The king was lying to himself if he thought it was simply a political arrangement.
“And the Trials?”
“They are a way to give my warriors hope. Perhaps to strengthen our bloodlines against the Curse. I know it is not a permanent solution, but it is something. I will not endanger that hope.” Ulric’s voice grew harsh. “Not all of us have the luxury of following our hearts.”
The bitterness in those words confirmed his suspicions. The king felt the mate bond but was denying it, trapped by duty and obligation. Just as he was trapping himself with doubts and fears.
“What do you think I should do?”
Ulric sighed, looking suddenly weary.
“If you truly feel the mate bond, don’t waste time questioning it. The gods rarely grant such gifts. And when they do, only a fool would refuse them.”
He could hear the bitterness in the king’s voice. Here was a male who understood exactly what it meant to deny the mate bond, who lived with that choice every day.
“I’ve spent so much time trying to protect her, trying not to frighten her.”
“Perhaps she needs you to be honest,” Ulric said quietly. “With her and with yourself.”
He looked at the king, and saw the truth written on his face. Ulric knew exactly how he felt, and was making a different choice.
“A mate bond is not just about attraction or compatibility,” Ulric added. “It’s about finding the other half of your soul. The gods don’t make mistakes in such matters.”
The truth of those words resonated deep in his chest. Every moment with Jana felt right in a way he’d never experienced before. Since the moment he’d first seen her, he’d known she was his to protect and cherish.
“I want to tell her,” he admitted. “But she’s been hurt before. Trapped. I don’t want her to feel pressured.”
Ulric’s expression hardened and he stood abruptly, pacing over to the window.
“Then show her that you’re worth trusting. That your bond is worth exploring. Don’t let fear or doubt rob you both of what could be.”
The passionate response surprised him. He studied the tension in Ulric’s shoulders, suspecting that the king spoke from painful experience.
He pushed back his chair and stood, a newfound resolve settling over him. He wanted Jana - not just physically, but all of her. Her trust, her love, her future. He’d waited long enough.
“You’re right,” he told Ulric. “I need to talk to her. To tell her exactly what she means to me.”
Ulric nodded, his expression distant as he continued staring out the window. He took a step toward the door, then paused. He thought of the way Jessamin had looked at Ulric during dinner. Of the way Ulric had looked at her.
“My king?” He waited until Ulric turned. “Perhaps you should consider having a similar conversation with Jessamin.”
Ulric’s face went blank, but he caught the flash of longing in the king’s eyes before he masked it.
“I’ve seen how she looks at you. And how you look at her when you think no one notices. Perhaps your marriage was meant to be more than just a political alliance.”
“That is presumptuous of you,” Ulric growled, but there was no real heat in his words.
“Perhaps.” He shrugged. “But I’d hate to see you both miss out on something precious because you didn’t follow your own advice.”
He bowed slightly and left before Ulric could respond, hoping his words would sink in. The king deserved happiness as much as anyone, and Jessamin’s quiet strength would complement him well.
He headed back to the convent, filled with determination. The mate bond hummed inside his chest, drawing him towards his mate. But as he entered the courtyard, the sound of panicked voices brought him to an abrupt halt.
Servants rushed past him, their faces tight with worry. One carried a bowl of steaming water, another clutched herbs to her chest. They disappeared up the main staircase toward Jessamin’s quarters. Several of the Brides were huddled in the garden, crying.
“What happened?” he demanded, catching the arm of a passing servant.
“The queen collapsed after breakfast. She burns with fever.”
The servant twisted free and hurried away. He stared after her for a moment, then grabbed one of the guards.
“You need to alert King Ulric. Now.”
The guard hesitated. “But-”
“Now!”
The guard shot a quick look at his face, then bowed and sprinted toward the gates.
He hurried back to their room, knowing that Jana would want to know what had happened, needing to find her. But when he threw open the door, the room was empty. Their bed had been neatly made, her nightgown draped across the end.
Where had she gone? And why hadn’t she waited for him?
He stalked through the convent searching for her but there was no sign of her anywhere. His Beast stirred beneath his skin, responding to the rising panic in his chest. Servants scattered before him, their frightened faces barely registering as he searched room after room.
By the time he burst into the corridor leading to Jessamin’s chambers, his claws had emerged. Two of her servants blocked his path, shrinking back as his eyes flashed black.
“Please, my lord. The healers are with her.” The older woman’s voice quavered. “We know you are searching for Lady Jana but she isn’t here.”
His Beast snarled at the delay, but he forced himself to pause.
“Do you know what happened to Jessamin?”
The women exchanged a quick look, and then the younger woman leaned towards him.
“The healers think she’s been poisoned.”
A red haze clouded his vision. The timing couldn’t be a coincidence. Jana must have discovered something - someone - who didn’t want their plans revealed.
His nails lengthened into claws as he fought to maintain control. His Beast wanted blood, he knew he needed his human mind to find her. She needed him thinking clearly, not lost to mindless rage. But gods help whoever had taken her - when he found them, he would let his Beast have its way.