Chapter 39
Vivian’s Point of View
Rule thirty-nine: Do not approve the request for sexy nurse uniforms.
You’d think a castle occupied by some of the most powerful leaders in all the realms would run smoothly while I slept.
It did not.
Why?
Because politics are the worst.
I’ve been sitting in our makeshift headquarters for hours, and my legs are starting to cramp. The room is slightly bigger than Need’s sitting room, which I suppose is a silver lining.
Thankfully, there’s coffee. Though at this point, not even sweet, life-saving caffeine will be enough to salvage my mood.
I’m pretty sure Morgana is feeling the same, since she’s sitting across from me, and her face has subtitles. Her expression is locked in pure, unadulterated exasperation.
Some things have been moving steadily. Last night, both the staff (because I refuse to call them servants) and the freed prisoners elected representatives to speak for them.
Carys, the staff representative, is the sweet girl I spoke with yesterday. The freed prisoners elected Varian, the dragon shifter.
I’m not sure if that’s because he and I are already on speaking terms, or because he’s, you know… a freaking dragon.
The moment Sin and I arrived at headquarters, Damien explained the importance of establishing a chain of command. I listened with rapt attention while sipping my first coffee and eating a chocolate croissant.
Everything he said made a lot of sense, and I gave him a grateful thumbs-up for taking the time to break it down for me.
Of course, I assumed everyone would be answering to either Morgana or Ragna, because they’re both experienced leaders who know what they’re doing.
Nope.
Not even close.
Apparently, no one is eager to listen to a thing if it comes from the mouth of a former or current Council member.
Last night, Ragna tried to organize housing for the freed prisoners with Varian.
She needs to get an idea of the available space in the barracks for when her own army joins us.
The staff may have been able to help as well, but both Carys and Varian outright refused to do a thing until I signed off on the order.
They have steadfastly argued that they listen to me and me alone.
A tension headache builds behind my temples as I scan the frustrated faces at the table.
As always, Sin is beside me, and our chairs are practically glued together. Ragna sits at my right, wordlessly communicating with Morgana.
When did those two become besties?
Their interactions aren’t nearly as odd as the ones happening on the far ends of the table. On one side, Damien and Magnus whisper and throw covert glances at Varian.
They frown as they do it.
Varian sits with Carys on the opposite end, and he looks smug every time they glance his way.
Magnus shakes his head at Damien, and his slitted eyes widen.
I rub my temples, feeling grateful that at least no one has been openly hostile.
For now.
The tension hangs thickly in the air, and everyone looks on edge. Except, of course, for Arianna. She’s lounging next to Morgana, looking like she’s having the time of her life.
I suppose the chaos goblin in her is enjoying this budding animosity.
Still, I’m relieved that she isn’t leaking any darkness. I’m pretty sure it only happens when she’s not doing so good. A part of me was worried that she might have a hard time coming back here after everything she went through.
She catches me staring and makes a face before mouthing, “Stop being so obsessed with me.”
Before I can come up with something clever to say, Damien finally turns away from Magnus and gets back to business, “We’re making great headway on searching the castle. We should be finished later today.”
My heart skips a beat. “Did you make it to the secret passage I told you about? Remember, Nymara isn’t allied with Need, she’s–” I start, but he’s already shaking his head.
Magnus continues, “We have looked. And while we found the prisoner you noted, there is no sign of the girl. The prisoner you mentioned appears to be under some kind of powerful sedation. We have transported him to the infirmary. Rosie is working to counteract the effects.”
Varian frowns, looking thoughtful before noting, “I suggest we refrain from telling anyone that Nymara is the daughter of Need. That knowledge will only put a target on her back.”
Reluctantly, I nod in agreement. Nymara and I aren’t exactly friends, but she risked everything to help me. I can only hope Need didn’t get to her.
“Speaking of people who are missing, the Fates are gone,” Ragna adds.
I whirl around to face her, instinctively reaching for Sin’s hand. I haven’t forgotten Clotho’s warning that her sisters want his soul.
My chest tightens at the thought that they could be anywhere, just biding their time to hurt him.
Sin has been mostly quiet, content to let me work through problems, and occasionally offers suggestions. But at my pulse of fear, he leans in and brushes his nose across my neck. “It’s all right. Breathe. I’m sure Clotho took her sisters somewhere they won’t be able to cause problems.”
His beard brushes the sensitive underside of my neck, and I swallow, trying to hide the heat that pulses through me in response.
Time and place, Vivian. Get a grip, I mentally urge myself.
“But,” he continues, no doubt feeling my arousal through our one-sided bond, “If you’re worried, you could always complete our bond. Then you’d always know I was safe.”
I jerk back at his taunt and narrow my eyes at him. “Nice try. And not a chance. I’m not condemning you to death.”
A sharp pain spears through my chest, and I ignore the exhaustion that clings to me.
Clearly, my body is just adjusting after two weeks of stress.
It’s definitely not a side effect of having a crumbling soul that is draining me from the inside out.
Sin’s eyes darken. “You’re going to give in, kitten. I’m not letting you sacrifice–”
“Can you two stop fighting and get a room? The sexual tension is making me nauseous,” Arianna groans, slamming her coffee mug onto the table.
“We’re not fighting!” Sin and I snap back at the same time.
It’s true. We aren’t.
We spent the night wrapped in each other’s arms, neither of us willing to give in. And even though we were still having a disagreement (not a fight) about the whole soul thing, having him close was everything.
Twice, I woke up in a panic, and he rubbed soothing circles on my back, telling me I was safe until my eyes drifted shut once more.
That’s not what people do when they’re fighting.
Then, this morning, he kissed me like he wanted to devour me, before asking if I was ready to be his again.
I laughed, knowing exactly what he was up to, and reminded him that a part of my soul was still intertwined with his. So, who I belonged to really wasn’t in question.
He hummed thoughtfully as he got out of bed and slowly stretched in the morning sun. He’d stripped off his shirt at some point in the night, and my mouth went dry when I took in how the light played off his muscles.
He smirked, definitely knowing what he was doing to me, when he innocently asked, “You’re right, you’re mine, kitten. But don’t you want me to be yours?”
That’s when I realized this isn’t even a disagreement.
It’s a game.
And from the barely restrained desire that has yet to leave Sin’s gaze, I’m pretty sure it’s going to be a heated one.
Game on.
Varian clears his throat and stands, returning me to the present.
“Well, this has been a productive meeting. I’m going to relay our next steps to my people.
” He gives Ragna a curt nod. “We’ll move to the barracks as ordered and update you about space.
” His warm amber eyes meet mine. “I look forward to working under you.”
Sin stiffens beside me, and I’m trying to figure out if there was a sexual undertone to those words.
But I’m distracted when Carys stands and gives me a small, amused smile. “I’ll keep you updated as well. Thank you, Vivian.”
They both nod and stride out of the room.
An awkward silence hangs in the air until Damien decides to break it. “You know, Red, if Sin is pissing you off, you can always crash with me and Magnus tonight,” he offers with a wink.
Magnus gives him a horrified look, and in the next moment, there’s a slight pulse of red light. Damien’s eyes go comically wide, as his eyebrows fizzle out of existence.
I mirror his shock when I snap my attention back to Sin. “What did you do that for?”
He shrugs nonchalantly, and I glare at him, not impressed with how he’s treating our friends.
The corner of his mouth lifts, and his eyes twinkle with amusement.
Exasperated, I resist the urge to throw my hands into the air, because for some reason, Sin likes my anger.
“You can’t just go around zapping people, Sin,” I scold.
I try to stay cool and collected as I do it, but I’m starting to be concerned. He’s been a little extra aggressive with others.
“He shouldn’t have flirted with my mate,” Sin grumbles, his sole focus remaining on me.
He watches me like the rest of the world is barely an afterthought, and it causes my breath to catch.
His possessiveness should probably bother me.
Instead, a small lick of heat travels to my core over the way he’s openly claiming me.
Sin’s smirk grows.
I wrench my attention away from him. Clearly, I am not the picture of healthy relationship preferences, because I am definitely liking this too much.
Still, Sin should at least apologize to our friends.
Before I can tell him so, Magnus interjects, “I’m sorry to say, little enigma, that your lord of frowns is well within his rights.
You didn’t have time to see the effects of a completed mate bond before you left the Shadow Realm.
But, at least for shifters, when we first solidify our mate bonds, we become fiercely possessive, at least for the first few months until the bond settles.
Damien’s words would have gotten him killed in my home realm.
I can only imagine the inclination is even stronger in Destroyers. ”