Chapter 27
W hen we returned to the Drakhold, the castle was subdued. And when Yuliette announced that the king wanted me for dinner, I assumed I was on the menu.
Those suspicions intensified as I faced Lorcan across the empty dining room table. A fire roared in the hearth. Someone had replaced the carpet in front of it.
Vander stood in his usual spot inside the doorway, his face blank and his silver gaze locked on some indistinct point behind me. He’d knocked on my door an hour ago, bowed, and escorted me to the dining room, his only words a murmured, “Good evening, Your Highness.”
Rasimir sat at the head of the table. He appeared lost in thought, his green eyes unfocused. The dining room didn’t have a clock, but I imagined it ticking anyway, the seconds counting down until something, anything , happened.
Lorcan was as still as Vander, his hands resting on the arms of his chair. I’d waited in vain for him to speak in my mind—to offer instructions or reassurance. But he was silent.
I didn’t trust myself to catch his eye. Something in my face would give me away. Give Rasimir a reason to finally kill me.
Tick . Tock .
The silence stretched. The fire crackled. In the corner of my vision, Rasimir was as motionless as the statues outside.
Tick . Tock .
My heartbeat thudded in my ears. Maybe dinner was late. Any moment, servants would enter with platters of food and glasses of blood-wine. I let the vision play out, images of roasted meat and baskets of fresh bread spreading before me.
Duncan Bagley’s flushed face replaced the bread. Brown sauce pooled in the cut on his lip as he looked down at his bandaged hand with a bewildered expression.
Vomit burned my throat.
Tick . Tock .
The fire snapped. My vision blurred, Lorcan’s head a dark blob against the red upholstery of his chair.
“Family makes a man rich,” Rasimir said.
I jerked, barely managing to smother my gasp as I swung my head toward him.
He returned my regard with an easy smile and something that might have been wistfulness in his eyes.
“Most people long for money and power. In their minds, no one could have more of these things than a king.” Leaning toward me, he lifted a finger.
“But I’ll tell you a secret, Daughter. No one is richer than a man who loves his family.
By that measure, even the lowest pauper can set himself above a king. ”
The fire danced behind him, the writhing flames as erratic as my heartbeat. I’d never needed Lorcan in my head more than I did now. But he didn’t speak, and I didn’t dare look at him.
Rasimir straightened, his expression darkening as he gazed down the table.
“Discovering the Resistance among my own people has shown me to be a fool. Word will spread. Soon, every corner of Nocta will know a spy infiltrated the Drakhold. The gossips will talk of how the caladrius orchestrated an attack the night we sought to celebrate adding another member to our family.”
I stole a glance at Lorcan, who watched Rasimir with his usual cool detachment. All that time in the Everless, and we’d never spoken of what to do in the event Rasimir turned on us. We should have planned. But I could guess what Lorcan’s answer would be.
You need a mirror. Your face gives you away.
Rasimir pushed back his chair and stood. When Lorcan and I immediately followed suit, he looked between us.
“It’s clear to me now that our enemies fear our wealth and power. They seek to stop us from amassing true riches. Family. Children.”
My gut clenched.
“We must be united as one family as quickly as possible. The two of you will wed tonight. I’ve already summoned the court.”
Knowing it was coming didn’t make it any less of a shock. But my life depended on me playing a role, so I bowed my head as Rasimir turned to me.
“As you wish, Father,” I said.
“Does this please you?” he asked.
“If it pleases you, Majesty.”
He made a sound that might have been a laugh. With my eyes downcast, it was impossible to know for certain.
“It will please me to see my lineage secured.” His footsteps rang out. Peering through my lashes, I watched him move to the door. “Attend me, Prince Lorcan,” he said over his shoulder.
Lorcan left the table. “Of course, Majesty.”
Rasimir paused next to Vander. “Escort the princess to her chamber so she can prepare for the ceremony.”
“Yes, Majesty.”
Rasimir and Lorcan left. Vander’s eyes held a warning as he looked at me.
“Let’s go, Princess.”
T en minutes later, Vander pulled me into my room and shut the door behind us.
Don’t speak , he mouthed, his freckles stark against his pale skin. Hustling me to a corner, he produced feygeld and a knife. I bit my lip, my insides quivering as chunks of crystal hit the floor.
“This is fucking stupid,” he rasped a second later, the blue light of his magic gleaming in his wide pupils. Gripping my arms, he pulled me close. “Do you want this marriage?”
I blinked. “I don’t have a choice.”
“You heard Ruvien. We almost always have a choice.” Vander swallowed, his thick throat working. “I won’t lie to you, Corinthe. Running will be next to impossible. But if you’re truly opposed to the wedding, I’ll help you.”
“You will?”
He nodded. Then he lowered his gaze, his thick auburn lashes spiky against his cheeks. “I, um…” He cleared his throat. “I know what it means to be pressured into being with someone you don’t want.”
My stomach plummeted to my feet. “What are you saying?” I breathed.
Color stained his cheeks. He lifted his head, and the vulnerability in his eyes tore my heart in two.
“I’ve kept just one other thing from you,” he said in a low voice. “After I tell you this, know that I’ve told you everything. I swear it, Corinthe.”
“I believe you,” I whispered.
Vander drew a shuddering breath. “You know I’m a changeling.
What you don’t know is that the elven king’s daughter took me as a babe.
She raised me in her court, treating me like a favored son.
But I got older, and things changed. I grew tall…
and big. Even as a young man, I was more muscular than any elven warrior. ”
A sinking feeling spread through me, horrible suspicions forming.
“I won’t burden you with the details,” he said. “The elves aren’t like us, Corinthe. They can live tens of thousands of years in Veradorn before they fade. The way they think…” Frowning, he lowered his eyes. “She fancied me,” he rasped. “She made me fancy her. But after…”
Biting back a sob, I took his face in my hands. “You don’t have to tell me, Vander. You don’t have to say anything else.”
He captured one of my hands and held it against his chest. “Ruvien got wind of it. Sometimes I think he let himself get shot with that arrow. It gave him an excuse to gift me the claws, and I used them to rip open a door to the Everless.”
“Is that why the Everless is a ruin?” I asked, Ruvien’s words about broken doors ringing in my head.
Vander nodded. “I won my freedom. Otherwise, I’m not sure the princess would have ever let me go.”
Anger flooded me. “Did her father have anything to say about this? What kind of king allows that type of abuse?”
“Veradorn isn’t like Nocta. The princess is ancient, with her own court and attendants. I’m not sure King Alluin knows I exist.” Vander grimaced. “To be honest, I prefer it that way.”
Something fierce bloomed inside me. My fangs punched down, and my growl rumbled between us. “If anyone ever hurts you again, I will fucking kill them.”
His silver eyes went wide. “I believe it,” he rasped, and then I was in his arms, his mouth on mine and his hands in my hair. He plunged his tongue deep, this kiss just as commanding and possessive as his first one.
And he needed it, I realized, some deep instinct within me unlocking. Vander needed to be in charge. In control. Good. Fine. I could bend for him. He’d given me the most intimate part of himself. I’d gladly give him this.
And it was hardly a burden. I kissed him back, stroking my tongue against his.
Dragging the scent of rain and green, growing things into my lungs.
Moaning softly when he slid his hands down my back and gripped my ass through my gown.
He pulled me against him, answering my moan with a needy, masculine sound.
Heat built between my legs, the memory of his big, skillful fingers spinning through my head.
He pulled back, and we stared at each other, both of us panting in the tight circle of his ward.
“Fuck,” he muttered.
I licked my lips. “Was it stupid to kiss me again?”
Slowly, he shook his head. “No. I’m stupid about a lot of things, but when it comes to this, I think I’m pretty smart.”
Ordinarily, I would have smiled. But the ward was a painful reminder of what the rest of the night held.
“I have to marry Lorcan,” I said.
Vander tucked a lock of hair behind my ear. “My offer stands.”
My heart broke a little more. Rising on tiptoe, I kissed the edge of his jaw. “I’m grateful. But it’s not necessary.”
“You’re all right with marrying Lorcan?”
A sudden thought made me step back. “Yes, but…”
Amusement danced in Vander’s eyes. “You want to know if I’m all right with it.”
“Please don’t say my face gave it away.”
He tugged me against him. “The three of us have done just fine together so far. Nothing says we can’t keep doing that in the future.”
My cheeks burned, and my tongue suddenly felt too large for my mouth. “How would that work?” Immediately, memories of the previous night flooded me and embarrassment scalded my cheeks.
The look in Vander’s eyes sent more heat rolling through me. “I have a few excellent ideas.”
As much as I wanted to hear them, Yuliette was probably seconds from walking through the door with my wedding dress.
“I have to go,” Vander said, releasing me. “Don’t worry about the ceremony. Follow Lorcan’s lead.” He gathered the feygeld and broke the ward. Then he went to the balcony and slipped over the railing, his russet head dropping out of sight as his rain-and-forest scent lingered in my lungs.
A moment later, a tall woman with glittering scales brought my gown. A forked tongue darted between her lips as she curtsied. “I’m here to help you dress, Your Highness.”
“Where is Yuliette?” I asked.
The woman didn’t meet my eyes as she went to the armoire. “She won’t be serving you anymore, Your Highness.” The woman hung the gown and turned. Her hands trembled as she clasped them in front of her. “She had an accident.”
The happiness I’d felt with Vander vanished. Yuliette was dead. This woman was likely to follow in her footsteps. After Delphine, Rasimir probably didn’t trust anyone to serve me. So he’d rotate ladies-in-waiting. Attending me was almost certainly a death sentence.
“Thank you,” I managed to say.
The woman nodded. “Will you change your gown now, Your Highness?”
“Yes.”