Chapter 8 #2
“Morden is an excellent hunter. The best in our pack. He waited until I was walking the grounds one day and then he came out of nowhere. I think the shock of seeing a wolf startled the guards. They didn’t react swiftly enough to stop Morden.
He had killed both of them before they could do a thing about it.
” I hefted my dagger and glared at it for good measure.
“I stole this off one of them and we fought our way out of there. I had never… I had never killed before that day. It was… horrible… I didn’t think about what I was doing at the time.
I just followed Morden’s instructions and fought as hard as I could.
I knew Kaeleron would come after us. I knew we had to be fast. We made it to the waygate before Kaeleron could stop us.
I had heard someone talk about them, so I knew how to use it.
I wasn’t sure it would work. But it did. ”
I drew down a shuddering breath and held it, biting my lip and thinking about my parents, about everything I had lost and how much more I might still lose.
Tears filled my eyes and I hated myself for using the pain of losing my parents like this, but I needed Sylvan on my side. I needed him to believe me.
“I was so afraid,” I sobbed, my hand shaking as I looked at the dagger I held. “I was so afraid he would kill Morden and take me back to the castle. I knew what he would do to me if he caught me. I knew he would… he would… he would hurt me.”
I put emphasis on that word as I flicked a glance at Sylvan, letting him read into what sort of pain would have awaited me, sure he would imagine my punishment would be something brutal and sexual—that Kaeleron would have chosen to break me in that manner.
“He will not hurt you again,” he said as he rose to his feet and rounded his desk to my side. His hand came down on my bare shoulder, close to Kaeleron’s mark, and I looked up at him through my tears, fighting the urge to shake off his touch. “You are safe now, Saphira.”
Was I?
I wanted to laugh in his face.
He drew a gold-edged white handkerchief from his pocket and offered it to me, his expression grave.
I took it and dried my tears as I nodded, acting grateful, luring him under my spell, and when he was thoroughly entangled in that web of sympathy and anger over how I had been treated, I played my hand.
Sniffling, I said, “My friend… Luthryn said she was brought here. That I would see her here. Danica. A wolf… like me. Younger. She has chestnut hair. He said she was brought here. I want to see her. I want her to act as my handmaiden. I need her close to me. Luthryn promised we would be together. Wolves don’t do well alone.
We’re a pack species. If she could be my handmaiden, that would be a great comfort to me. ”
Sylvan’s hand slipped from my shoulder, his expression growing pensive as he towered over me. I let a tear spill down my cheek, snaring him again. His gaze tracked it, softening a degree, and he sighed.
“That request might prove difficult.” His grave tone almost had me snarling.
I pushed to my feet, fighting to keep the bite from my voice as he denied me. “Why?”
“Well, you already have a handmaiden.”
“Danica is the one I want for that position, not some fae I don’t know.
If I’m heir, and you’re merely steward, surely you cannot refuse me?
” I tried to gentle my tone and let more tears spill, hoping he would believe the sharp edge to my voice stemmed from being upset about everything that had happened to me and afraid, rather than the anger roiling in my veins.
“I need my pack. I need my friend. My wolf instincts… I want her as my handmaiden. Luthryn promised, and I won’t settle for anything other than her being handed over to me. ”
Nerves rose as I waited for him to react to me demanding such a thing. It wasn’t like me to be so forward—so demanding—and my wolf instincts weren’t sure whether I should feel cowed or bare my fangs in triumph, in a show of power so reminiscent of an alpha.
Only I was a female.
I feared he might put me in my place as I stared him down, back rod straight and chin tipped up, fighting to hide my urge to tuck my tail between my legs and cower like a good little female in the face of a male with power.
“I understand. Instincts can be powerful things, and Luthryn did promise her to you, and of course I would not want you to be uncomfortable. If your comfort requires the presence of this wolf, I will arrange for her to join you.” He dipped his head.
“Your brother, the former heir, will be disappointed, but I will see to it she is delivered to your quarters.”
I frowned at him. “Why would he be disappointed?”
Sylvan casually waved a hand, his tone matter of fact, his whole demeanour making me want to growl and claw his eyes out as he blithely said, “She was to be the first of his concubines.”
As if turning my young friend, a female who was nowhere near to maturing and had no knowledge of carnal desires, into a whore was something perfectly acceptable and nothing to be bothered about.
“I’m sorry?” I snapped as my temper slipped its leash. I glared at him and flexed my fingers around the dagger. “Did you just say that my friend—my pack mate—was destined for the bed of that male when you knew I would be arriving soon after her? Did you honestly think I would be okay with that?”
I knew my eyes had changed, glowing blue with my wolf side and my anger, when he looked as if he was considering backing off a step and the hand he had so casually waved through the air came to face me, as if it could halt me if I wanted to attack him.
“We did not know you were the other female Luthryn had secured.” A reasonable excuse, but not one I wanted to hear, and he knew it.
He added, “Luthryn, the idiot, clearly thought to surprise me with you after his failure to retrieve you the night of the auction. He most likely thought he would gain my forgiveness with such a foolish act. Had I known you were the second female, I would never have promised your friend to Lorien.”
“Good,” I bit out. “Deliver her to my room immediately.”
“Lorien will be upset—”
“I don’t give a shit!” I barked and squared up to him, letting him see all my rage and my dark need to carve Lorien to pieces for so much as thinking about laying a hand on my friend. “I’m the heir now. Danica is now under my care. Make it happen.”
He nodded.
And gods, it felt good bossing someone around.
A little thrilling.
A girl could get used to wielding power like this.
Especially one who had spent her whole life doing as others ordered.
“The second thing I want is access to the library. I want to learn more about this court and my people, and my breed.” I loosened my grip on the dagger.
“As you can imagine, this has all been a bit of a shock. I think if I can read about the Summer Court and the seelie that maybe I can recognise something of myself in this place and the people. And maybe I might find out how I came to be. At the very least I might learn something about this male you claim is my father.”
Sylvan regally bowed his head again. “Of course. It is understandable that you know little of this world and the seelie, and that you would like to know more about your father. If it will set your mind at ease, and help you believe I told you the truth and you are the daughter of Sylas, then of course I will show you where the library is. It is on the floor above us, and you can use it as much as you want. Come, I will take you there.”
He gestured to the double doors and I turned for them. Before I reached them, they opened for me, and no guards stood on the other side of them. That tang I now associated with magic laced the air, telling me Sylvan had used it on the doors.
I followed him up a level, keeping step beside him, refusing to walk behind him.
He led me down the wide corridor on that floor, to a tall set of double doors. Would the library here be as beautiful as the one I had made my home back in Falkyr?
Sylvan opened the doors for me, arms stretching outwards at his sides and his palms against the wooden panels as he entered ahead of me.
The library before me was impressive, and ridiculously grand.
The vaulted ceilings glinted with gold reliefs and dripped with enormous chandeliers that hung almost as low as the floor on the upper levels that surrounded the open central space.
Bookcases filled with tomes and scrolls lined the walls around the reading area, the pale stone columns between them supporting the upper level, where gold balustrades lined the walkway.
Those columns continued upwards, ending in arches that provided support for the ceiling.
More bookcases had been set into the walls on the second level, and there were tables and seating up there too.
They matched the gilt-framed teal couches and armchairs that filled the reading space before me, clustered around golden tables.
At the far end of the room, huge arched windows reached from floor to ceiling, heavy pale turquoise curtains opened to reveal them and the view of the trees and the garden.
It was lovely, but it was nowhere near as beautiful as the library in Falkyr, with its glass dome and the huge fireplace to snuggle up next to with a book.
I stepped further into the room, taking it in.
“Might I suggest you begin in this section over here. It contains a history of this court and the seelie.” Sylvan crossed the room to the bookcase near the stairs that swept upwards to the second level, stopping near one that had been filled with gold-capped scrolls.
“Thank you.” I went to him and canted my head, reading the spines of the books that had writing on them.
He nodded and left the room, closing the doors behind him.
I ran my fingers over the leather folders and bound books, plucking some from the shelves to flick through them, scanning the entries for dates that matched the time period Kaeleron had said he had become king.
Only I hit a snag.