Chapter 16
CHAPTER 16
S leep was a blessed oblivion—until it wasn’t.
The ability to nap anywhere, anytime, was a survival skill Rafe had learned early in his career with the Silent Wolves. Rest was never guaranteed during an assignment, so he grabbed sleep when he could to stay in top physical and mental shape.
That was until he’d been taken captive during the extraction of a valued asset in Eastern Europe. His captors had been rusalki—beautiful water spirits who had gone to the other side of the war. Then the nightmares had begun, night after night, dreams of drowning in a net made from the maidens’ sea-green hair. There was no wrestling with the creatures who dissolved at his touch. He might as well have tried to grapple a wave. Cold, dark water pressed in, robbing sound and sight, and choking every breath until his lungs burned for air. He’d wake up gasping, the pain too great to move. As a means to break his spirit, it had been an effective technique.
He’d killed three and escaped. It was only later that he learned he’d been captive for only two weeks. It had felt like months, and he hadn’t been able to sleep in a locked room since. The way station, with its graveyard and its cells, brought the dreams back with the force of a speeding truck.
Rafe lay awake, fully clothed and staring at the ceiling. The Silent Wolf shrink had claimed the dreams wouldn’t bother him unless they resonated with his psyche. The boundaries he’d put on himself. His isolation from the pack. His reluctance to share emotions. That self-repression was a means to cover up his guilt for disappointing his father, and his subconscious turned that guilt into strangling locks of hair.
Maybe some of that was true, maybe it wasn’t. Self-actualization took a back seat when job number one was staying alive, and survival was all about discipline and training. He knew how to be invisible, gather information, and cover his tracks. If he dropped a body on the way to the exit, he was quick and quiet. A Silent Wolf had no room for feelings. Maybe that’s why he took the riskiest assignments. They kept him too busy to think. Or hope. Or sleep, for that matter.
A faint scent teased him, one he’d noticed in the clearing where his kin lay buried. It was the animal stink of fear, as if the wolves had been helpless and aware right up until the killing blow. The stench of despair had followed him to this cell like a ghost. Or a warning?
Where was Izetta? If she was still among the Undead, she would have reached town. If she hadn’t …
He sprang to his feet, pulse thrumming, at the now-familiar beep and clatter of the door release. Lila stood at the entrance. The memory of their kiss rose like an exotic butterfly, lovely and utterly out of place.
A sudden warmth in his chest betrayed every hard lesson he’d endured. Discipline demanded that he shouldn’t be glad to see her. Wolf and fae didn’t mix. He knew that, and yet his body and soul disagreed.
“Come,” she said, her voice flat with weariness. “There is much to do before Lord Farras arrives tonight. ”
Even without the benefit of windows, Rafe’s internal clock said it was dawn. For a fae, it was the middle of the night. “You should be sleeping.”
“Like I said, there is much to do.” She stood back, indicating the hallway beyond.
Rafe paused only to pull on his boots. Wordlessly, Lila turned and led the way to the stairs, her usually straight posture ever so slightly wilted. Her light-blonde hair was carelessly braided, as if she’d left her chambers in a hurry. Fae were pathologically careful of their appearance—worse than any cat.
“Is something wrong?” he asked. He couldn’t decide if he was genuinely concerned or looking for an opportunity he could exploit. Maybe because he was confused, the question came out with a hint of sarcasm.
She slowed just enough to glance over her shoulder but didn’t meet his eyes. The outer curve of her gently pointed ears flushed pink.
“I require practical help, not questions,” she replied, then turned and quickened her pace. “Right now, my job is to prepare sleeping chambers for the lord and his men. This will take some time. He has exacting tastes.”
They climbed several sets of stairs and emerged in a hallway Rafe hadn’t yet seen. The walls were white and the floors a light oak. Judging by the view from the window of the stairway landing, they were several floors up. She entered the first doorway on the right, which appeared to be lined with cupboard doors. She opened and closed several before she found the one she wanted. It was stocked floor to ceiling with bed linens.
“Here, take these.” She held out a pile of sheets with one arm and rummaged in the cupboard for more.
As he reached to accept the stack, she grabbed his hand and pushed back his sleeve. There was a red welt where the silver bracelet touched his skin .
“What’s this?” she asked, setting the linens aside so she could take a better look.
He swallowed back a sliver of resentment that she didn’t already know the answer. “Silver irritates a shifter’s skin, especially something this tight.”
“Oh.” A flush crept up her ears. “That’s easily fixed.”
She cupped the right-hand bracelet between her palms. It immediately heated, at first a gentle warmth and then to an almost painful temperature. Rafe drew in his breath to protest, but then the metal shifted away from his flesh. A cool tingling ran all the way to his elbow. When she drew back her hands, the silver band hung ever-so-slightly loose and the skin beneath was whole.
“You should be able to slide your shirtsleeve beneath the bracelet,” she said, then went to work on his other wrist.
“Thank you.” Rafe couldn’t quite feel grateful—he was still bound by magic—but the absence of itching pain was a profound relief.
She stepped back, finished with his other bracelet. “I’m extremely sorry that happened.”
For an instant, Lila seemed plunged into embarrassed confusion. She closed her eyes, sucking in a breath before opening them again with a look of shaky resolve that didn’t convince him one bit. This was not where she wanted to be.
She picked up the sheets again, thrusting them into his arms. “No time to waste.”
“Don’t your servants take care of this?” he asked.
Her face lost all expression. “It is customary for the eldest unmarried daughter of the house to make the beds of the honored guests. I decorate the hall and plan the meal. That is the tradition of our noble houses. To do less is considered an insult.”
“You can’t magic the rooms ready?”
“No. That lacks the required personal touch.”
Rafe considered that. Werewolves were good at hospitality, but no female would tolerate someone around the cubs without sniffing them first. If nothing else, Galeeta seemed just as protective of her family. Something wasn’t adding up.
“What hold does this lord have on your kin?”
At that, Lila dropped a pillowcase and quickly bent to scoop it from the floor. “Nothing.”
“A two-year-old cub could lie better than that.”
“Fae don’t lie,” she retorted.
“Fae detect untruths. Not the same thing.”
With a frown, she placed the pillowcase on top of his load. “Lord Farras is an important ally with the ear of the king and a claim to the throne if the king dies without issue. It would not be wise to offend him.”
Rafe had figured that much out already. “And the soldiers who arrived here at the same time as me?”
The crease between her brows deepened. “Lord Teegar is a captain of the Royal Guard and a political rival of Lord Farras. Before you ask, I do not know his side of the story.”
Fear swirled beneath the studied neutrality of her tone. No wonder she was doing whatever domestic task was asked of her.
“So, that’s why you agreed to play hostess?” He followed her out of the room and down a long hallway to the guest bedrooms.
“It was not my preference, but yes,” she said quietly, raising a hand to indicate which room to enter.
It was a corner suite with views of the lake and trees. The stark white walls and plain black furniture were softened by gauzy curtains the shade of new leaves. She’d selected bed clothes and towels to match.
“What do you do when you’re not here?” he asked, setting the pile of linens on the bed.
“Architectural design,” she replied. “I have a job in the city.”
“I thought fae didn’t thrive there.” Whether he liked it or not, his curiosity was piqued.
“Most don’t.” She shook out the bottom sheet, letting it settle over the mattress. “It’s noisy and far from the forest. There’s talk about damage to ancient tradition from too many new ideas, and how human inventions make fae magic less relevant in the modern world.”
“So why leave?” He grabbed the other end of the sheet, helping her pull it tight.
For the first time, she smiled. “I like the new. Humans, especially. They’re tiny explosions of emotion and energy. Everything is so urgent to them.”
“Mortality does that,” he said wryly. So did unexpected kisses.
“It’s honest, even if it’s messy.” She began stuffing the feather pillows into embroidered cases. “Shifters have their own dynamic. So do the Undead. That’s why I love living in a multi-species building—there are so many different ways of being in the world.”
“Not everyone would enjoy that.”
“Their loss. It’s creative, and an opportunity to learn, especially about yourself. It’s hard to see your own blind spots until you get away from the familiar.” She tossed him the first pillow.
Rafe settled it among its fellows. Then he cast her a sidelong look. “I heard a rumor that the Forest Fae are leaving the city.”
Lila frowned. “They are. The court is leaving first.”
“A good Alpha would be the last to leave, but that’s just us,” he said under his breath. He caught the second pillow and patted it in place, wishing the future occupant nightmares.
In the few minutes they’d been talking, the bed had transformed into a cushioned oasis. Lila moved on to the rest of the room, setting out soaps and towels, toiletries and flowers. Though she added little to what was already there, every surface became a perfectly balanced arrangement. The clean scents of candles and fresh linens melded in perfect harmony, adding to a restful atmosphere. Thinking of his bare cell and sleepless nights, Rafe envied the future occupant with fresh savagery.
Lila completed her circuit of the room, rejoining him at the foot of the bed. Her furtive glance at the carefully piled cushions put a thousand inappropriate thoughts in his head. The bed looked so soft. So did she. Lila stood close enough that her scent overlaid everything else.
“If you love the city so much, why not go back?” he asked, talking so the moment wouldn’t end. His head filled with images of what he could do with her on that feather-soft mattress.
She glanced up at him, the gray of her eyes stormy. At first, he thought she wouldn’t answer, but then the corners of her mouth turned down. “I will when this is over. Right now, there will be consequences if I don’t stay.”
Clearly, he’d struck a nerve. And it was just as plain that she needed to talk, even if it was to her captive servant. He wavered a moment, his first instinct to retreat. She was fae, and this was enemy territory. He didn’t owe her a shoulder to cry on.
Except she’d shown him compassion. Believed him. Healed him. Probably saved his life. The very least he could do was listen.
“What consequences?” he asked.
“The king holds my father prisoner.”
“Ah.” That was an obligation he understood. No wonder she’d agreed to play a role she hated.
Lila scrubbed at her face, the gesture angry. “I shouldn’t have said that. It’s not your affair.”
“Who can help?”
“Lord Farras has the power to secure my father’s freedom.”
Rafe put a gentle hand on her shoulder and was startled to see her eyes glittered with tears. She ducked her chin, hiding her emotion until he pulled her close. To his surprise, she leaned in, letting him take her weight. The top of her head fit beneath his chin, the warmth of her hair like silk against his skin. A painful sensation rose in his chest, urging him to wrap her tightly in his arms.
“Lord Farras holds a lot of cards in this game,” he said softly .
She nodded, her body stiff as she fought back her distress.
“What do you want to do about that?” he asked.
No one had ever asked her before. As wonderful as it might be to have a say, the prospect terrified her. Action led to reaction, and Farras didn’t pull his punches.
She drew away from Rafe, missing the solid feel of him the instant she straightened. But she’d be a fool to listen to him, however sweet his words might be. He was her prisoner, not her friend, and as likely as not to betray her.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “This is not your problem.”
“No, it’s not.”
The frank answer caught her off guard. “Well?—”
“I understand, though,” he said, interrupting her. “The games of power. The obligation to family, even when that bond can hurt.”
She nodded, her throat too tight to speak.
“My father is a difficult Alpha,” he went on. “When we went hunting, he’d set traps. Not for our prey, but for me and my friends. They were no joke—a wolf could lose a paw or break bones. If we fell into them, he’d call us stupid and weak. If we escaped them, he’d accuse us of cheating.”
Rafe was trying to build a bridge between them, to show they had something in common. It was an old tactic to breed trust, but it made Lila feel a little less alone.
“What did you do?”
“When I got old enough, I left home just to put an end to the growling.” Rafe gave a short, bitter laugh.
“What are you saying?” His tale sounded awful, and she wasn’t sure of the point.
“The Alpha, my father, wanted to scare off the next generation. If their confidence was broken, they would never challenge him.” Rafe shrugged. “All too often, power is fear in disguise. The more you have, the more you fear it will be taken. The only way to keep it is to make the other guy fear you more.”
“What do you do?”
“Refuse to play the game.”
Lila shook her head. He might talk about walking away, but he was an Alpha, too. Maybe not by title, but that dominant spark couldn’t be lost or won. She would put down money that—given the chance—he’d attract a pack of his own.
“What about duty?” she asked with a tinge of sarcasm. “What about protecting the people you love? Isn’t that why you’re here? You came to save the day?”
Rafe pulled a face. “I didn’t say running was the final answer. It was all I could think of at the time. I’m not perfect.”
But he was, in too many ways. Lila felt easy beside him, utterly safe. That wasn’t wise. Nor was the sweet churn she felt in her belly when she studied his form. Unlike a fae, the werewolf had a raw beauty that drew her in a way no perfection could.
Maybe that was why she didn’t resist when his lips brushed her hair, then her cheek, and finally her mouth. She froze, her core suddenly weightless with surprise and desire. It left her giddy enough that she bunched her fists in his shirtfront, holding on before she fell.
He was warm—hotter than human or fae. His presence engulfed her, filling her senses as she leaned into the kiss, instinct taking over. His tongue slid against hers, demanding and definitely other . It was a taste she’d longed for without knowing it existed, wild and unapologetically male. Yearning thrilled through her like a kindling fire.
They broke the kiss just long enough to change angles, just long enough that she slid her arms around his neck. The move brought them closer, body to body, crushing her breasts against the wall of his chest. She gasped, aroused and sensitized as he stroked the curve of her back, then lower. He seemed to be trying different techniques, keeping what made her squirm with pleasure and discarding the rest.
Lila was acutely aware of the bed. It would be easy to discard every inhibition, to let emotion run away. Whether sincere or not, Rafe made her feel worthy of affection. That was a drug more addictive than any potion or pill.
A door slammed in the corridor. Lila jumped back, stumbling and catching herself on the footboard of the bed. Rafe moved to steady her, but she waved him away, glancing nervously at the bedroom door. Her hand went to her mouth, conscious her lips had to be swollen from such a bruising kiss.
Yes, she’d startled like a guilty teenager, but consorting with a prisoner was a deadly offence. She wished she hadn’t seen the look of hurt in Rafe’s eyes, but that was swept away by a rush of alarm as the door flew open.