18. Raven #2
His jacket was slung over the back of the chair, and his shirt was unbuttoned to mid-chest, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. A lot of chiseled lines and muscles were on display, and after a rather slow appraisal, I raised and held my attention on his face.
A roguish grin delighted his lips as his gaze swept over me in return, his irises glinting like chips of ice in the light. Blessed the death god, he was an artful masterpiece.
Should I feel guilty for admiring Winter after having kissed Chace?
Similarly, should I be abashed for having kissed Chace after spending the night with Winter…um…extracting magic?
I hadn’t a commitment to either male, and I was still figuring out my feelings, and since neither had asked for any kind of promise or vow, I decided on “no.” No guilt and no shame.
“I like you in my sleepwear,” Winter said, his voice rough.
My shoulders slumped, and I shot my gaze to Neive. Neive quickly averted her attention, her cheeks flushing.
I sighed and pressed my lips tight. Of course I was wearing his clothing. Wasn’t that just death on a sickle.
In quick recovery, I squared my shoulders, raised my chin, and marched to the awaiting chair. “Thank you for allowing me to borrow them.”
Winter leaned into the table as if attempting to fold the distance between us. “Anytime. I also picked up a few items from Camilla today.”
“I saw.”
I’d left the canvas bag on the bed but had investigated its contents. Several pairs of much-appreciated underclothing. Based on Winter’s current state, I wondered if he had gone through the bag, studied and touched my new items.
The thought was something I didn’t really want to entertain, so I quickly shoved it away and took a seat.
Lucas laid a large cloth napkin in my lap, then he braced his hand on the back of my chair and leaned forward, bringing his face near my ear. “Would you like us to drag the drunk from your room so that you may enjoy your meal in peace?”
“The treachery!” said drunk exclaimed, to which I laughed. The disbelief on Winter’s face morphed into a grin as he jabbed a point in my direction, indicating my laugh. “There it is again. I like it.”
“He can stay,” I replied to Lucas.
Neive opened her mouth, and I raised a hand to stop the lady’s maid before she could give her objections sound. Winter was a royal, now a drunk royal, but I was an agent of the death god Thanatos. I was fairly confident I could handle him, even with some of his magic still crackling under my skin.
“But you should leave.” Winter tossed his hand high and wide at his side. His pointed stare pinned the two servants. “You have all offended me, and I wish the sight of you to be gone.” He dropped his forearms on the table and speared his attention on me. “The lady and I have much to discuss.”
Both Lucas and Neive tossed me a wary, questioning gaze.
“It’ll be fine. Go and enjoy the rest of your night. Any cleanup can wait until morning.” I patted the table, indicating the supper spread.
Lucas and Neive hesitated, as if determined to babysit their prince, but I stood and escorted them to the door.
“I’ll be fine. I can handle him.”
As the pair slipped out the door into the outer hallway, I noted one of the door guards stealing a peek into the room, zeroing in on Winter’s location. No doubt, gathering information that wouldn’t be kept privy. I quickly closed the door and returned to the table…and the prince.
I lifted my fork and began to eat. The rich aroma tickled my senses and set my stomach to growl. Seasoned vegetables on a bed of rice, garlic-butter steak, a green soup of sorts, one itsy-bitsy chocolate cake bite, hot tea, and a glass of amber poison.
Liquor, actually, but I would be forgoing any spirits in present company. Enough surprises had already packed my day. And Winter, more than ever, was primed for foolish surprises.
I pierced a slice of meat with my fork and lifted it to my lips. Paused. “So, I think it’s fair to say that the queen will soon know of your presence in my rooms.”
He dismissed the comment with a wave.
“This is serious. She’s the queen, and she doesn’t want you in here. In fact, she doesn’t want you anywhere around me.” I popped the meat into my mouth and chewed.
I probably shouldn’t have let those exact words slip. They went against my original plan on how best to distance myself from him, but today my focus had been a little less than sharp. And, well, I was slightly less concerned with the queen’s deal than I was about the Killian wanting me dead.
I swallowed hard.
Only, what if the Killian wanted me dead because I was failing to uphold my deal with the queen?
Well, reaping hell. At least the stipulation regarding Winter had been more of a request and wasn’t actually written into the contract.
If it had been, I probably would have been dead on day one of the deal.
“Her not wanting me to see you is bullocks.” He stretched his arm across the table, angling for my liquored drink.
For a flash of a second, I considered allowing the prince to push himself deeper into the depths of intoxication, but instead I gently pulled the glass out of his reach. His fingers dropped onto the table and stayed where they fell.
With a sigh, he continued, “There are larger issues at hand than her management of my social life.”
I bit down on my lip, fighting the grin that wanted to find life.
The issues the queen had with our fraternizing likely had to do more with my reaper status than anything else.
The queen saw me as a potential threat, and she was looking out for the prince.
Couldn’t blame the matriarch for protecting her family.
“What larger issues?” I took another bite, savoring the delicious flavors as they caressed my tongue and tantalized my tastebuds.
Staring at me with a lazy gaze, Winter huffed and drew his hand back to his lap, his demeanor sobering. “Valen, for one,” he deadpanned.
I choked on my food.
“What happened today, Raven?”
What indeed.
Winter might be a relative stranger, and he definitely wasn’t a reaper, so not privy to my task, but he had saved my life, and I his. When I’d been shot, he’d cared for my wounds and subsequent fever.
And after the incident with specters in the underground tunnels, I had experienced his magicked frozen cocoon, pulled him free, and returned him to the living. Our experiences bonded us on a unique, and hopefully trustworthy, level, so I told him.
I told him about my outing with Valen and the guards. About Valen’s crabby mood and how I was swept from their company by something other. I omitted any information about Chace and our…ah, exchange.
And I didn’t elaborate on what the something other was. Only that it was something that poked Valen’s bundle of unease. Winter didn’t need to know the name or purpose of the Killian.
I explained my visit to the infirmary, the vitals taken, and samples collected. They’d gathered swabs of my mucus and sweat, as well as a small vial of blood. Pumped me up with a vat of fluids for hydration.
“I don’t like it.” He squeezed his hand against the top of his head. “How do you know any of that was safe?”
“I’m not dead, am I?” I countered with a playful grin. “In fact, I feel better now than when I started the day.”
Something I believed Chace was responsible for, with his implementation of the collector’s eye on me…and his kiss.
Ugh. I needed to stop dwelling on that spontaneous exchange.
Winter shoved back from the table, his chair screeching against the floor. “But Valen—”
“Valen and I spoke after my visit to the infirmary,” I interrupted.
Since he was once a reaper, I suspected Valen was now many things. The kinds of things I didn’t want Winter digging deeper into. More so for Winter’s safety and not so much for the secrecy of reaper kind.
Shock lit his features. “You did? And…what was his reasoning for the bad attitude?” He leaned in as if to better hear my response.
“Did he have any information on this thing that tried to take you?” He hiccupped but forged forward.
“Did he give any indication that he may have created this thing, this monster that put you in danger?”
Again, not really in danger (half-truth), and not really a monster, but…
Wait. What? Created?
I cleared my throat and dabbed the napkin to the edge of my lip. “He apologized for his behavior and admitted to being overwhelmed by the demands thrust upon him by the Crown.”