CHAPTER XV #11
“I’ll alert the Knowledge crew.”
“Thank you.”
I hear the soft closing of a door behind us and grip his tunic tighter, fighting back the exhaustion of the night that is coming to claim my emotions.
“You,” I rasp against his chest.
It all makes sense now... the look of awe on Clair’s face before we left Red Falls, Alanna’s mention of the boys the first night in the Bulwark Plains… the damn Ancients woman in Marybeth’s tavern who laughed at me as she sat on Keane’s lap. He’s been using his summoning this whole time.
“Can you stand?”
“You,” I ball my fists and pound them into his chest.
Why hasn’t he said anything? Why has he kept it hidden? He’s always diverted whenever I asked about his summoning!
But the Shadow Oak is his.
The boulders from the Plains were his just as much as they were Daniel’s.
And by the look on Clair’s face before we left, I know without a doubt that he created something in that library to help bring me down the mountain.
Keane’s grip around my waist tightens again, his hands pressing against my lower back and flushing my chest into his.
He walks us to somewhere in the room and flicks a hand again, the feel of strong flames suddenly licking across the backs of my legs as the musky scent of burning wood fills my heavy lungs.
He holds me there, in front of a fire, and lets the flames warm my cold skin until my breathing calms with every inhale I take on his shoulder.
I breath him in, reveling in the smell of fire and pine and something else, something spicy, the mixture a perfect combination of campfire and cool, green woods.
“Can you stand?” he asks again, softer this time.
I lift my head slightly from his shoulder and look around for the first time.
We’re in a dark room of black and green, the granite walls sparkling around us from the firelight at my back.
The walls jut sharply for the sky above just as they do in the room used for court, the black masses opening up to the clear night sky with the moons shining brightly above.
A single massive pine stands proudly in each corner of the room, their limbs climbing up the walls as their heights disappear into the open darkness above.
A rich mahogany table sits in one corner directly to my left, the chairs surrounding it enough to seat our full traveling crew and then some.
A map of the Kingdom of Disce and its lands are etched into the full top of that table, every outline of a city complete with mahogany forests and rivers that run through all three Courts.
I can see the Greenstone Mountain of Bardot in one of the corners of that table, the wood hosting intricate carvings on top that perfectly resemble the Palisades above it.
Behind the table and carved into the black granite walls are shelves upon shelves hosting books that all have their spines broken and look well-read.
The bottom branches of one of the pines in that corner cuts across those shelves and weaves between the texts, adding a beautiful deep brown against the formidable black rock.
My eyes travel to the right, to a large four-poster bed made of more deep mahogany that sits under the clearing of the sky above us.
The bed is luxurious, fit for a King, and has black satin sheets and pillows mixed with a large emerald green blanket that’s thrown across the end of it.
It’s an intimidatingly beautiful bed, but it almost looks desolate and unused, just resting there in its loneliness.
To the right of the bed and following along the wall is a large opening in the room in which the black granite cuts out and forms a massive balcony. The city below looks breathtaking from this view, the shimmering lights from all the fires in the roads sparking against my heart.
Next to the balcony and moving slightly away from the room is what I can only guess is the bathing area.
That portion is sectioned off by an arch that is cut into the stone and leads to another hidden section of the room.
Next to that arch is a large armoire and dresser, also made of mahogany, both pieces complimented by a towering mirror that rests on top and reflects the dark bed directly across from it.
Following along the wall is where we stand now, the large roaring fire behind me embedded into the black granite.
The smoke rises through the stone and fans out into the open sky above, the cozy area complete with a settee and chair around it with multiple green and black blankets strewn across.
This is a man’s room.
A Warrior’s room.
Keane’s room.
I bite my lip and slowly pull back in his arms, catching his gaze on mine.
Keane watches me with an intense stare, noting my small reactions as I finally stop taking in his room. His arms shift under my thighs just slightly, his grip still holding on tight as I wrap my legs more firmly around his waist.
Ancients, he belongs here.
He belongs everywhere in Warrior.
The black and greens of this room coupled with the open ceiling and jutting pines…
Everything here compliments him so well… as does the serious glance he now sends my way. That brown stare is no longer cool and calm in its indifference, but instead thoughtful and almost vulnerable in its intensity, making me shudder under his gaze.
Keane parts his lips in an exhale and finally drops me down to the floor. His hands linger on my sides for a moment as I regain my footing, his steady grip falling away from my hips as I walk to the chair and grab the blanket on top to wrap around my shoulders.
“Storm?” I ask quietly.
A small caw reaches me from a corner in the room.
Stormfall is sitting at the top of the pine next to the large table, his yellow eyes holding mine from above in quiet affection.
I give him a small smile and wrap the blanket tighter to my front, then take a deep breath and look back at Keane and his intense eyes.
“I had him handled…”
Whatever Keane thought I’d say first, that was not it. His brows dart up in slight surprise before they relax in approval.
“I know it,” he nods.
I turn away from his stare, not wanting that approval. Another man’s hands were on me.
“I would have killed him if he didn’t back off,” I say quietly, looking into the fire.
Keane takes a hard step at my back, “I know that, too.”
“You would have had to deal with that, Keane. Deal with a Discerni Lord dead at the hands of a human.”
The Prince moves swiftly to stand next to me, his voice steady. “That rule is archaic and long past its life of being overturned, Alexis.”
Stormfall caws in agreement from his perch above. Keane reaches a hand out to my face and pulls my chin his direction, his voice going soft.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you.”
I sigh at the look of pity in his eyes, not wanting that, either.
His thumb reaches up to caress my cheek, “this isn’t pity, Alexis...”
I swear he’s a mind reader like his father.
“It’s just a deep sadness for a woman who may be lost to me because another man tainted this place for her…”
“I’m already lost to you,” I quickly pull my chin out of his grasp and turn back to the fire, “I became lost last night when you found out about Troy.”
Keane visibly stiffens next to me at the words, his voice going deathly quiet.
“Is that what this is, Alexis? Is that why you’ve been avoiding me all day?”
“How could I not!” I turn to him in desperation, “how can I expect anything from you after learning that? How can I welcome any touch from you when all I feel is a harrowing shame at the thought?”
Keane furrows his brows, his features turning cold as he takes a step
back.
“Ancients, Alexis,” he runs a hand though his hair, “fuck!”
He shakes his head in anger, his eyes on me so dark and cool that I have to look away.
He abruptly reaches for his tunic and throws it to the floor, stalking off to the other side of the fireplace where a small table holds multiple different decanters.
He quickly pours himself a glass of whiskey and then swallows the drink whole, dropping the empty glass on the table with a thud before he pours another.
He scowls at the drink and then places both hands firmly on the table in front of him, his head bowing low as he grips the wood hard.
I watch him from the fireplace in silence, watch his troubled features that mimic my own.
He leans forward with a heavy breath and closes his eyes, the tenseness of his body finally leaving on a deep sigh.
He runs a hand through his hair again and then reaches for a second glass, filling it to the brim with water before he turns back to look at me.
His brown eyes burn with an emotion that I have no name for yet, never leaving mine as he commandingly steps in my direction.
“It makes me sick to think of him with you,” he tells me with a hard look.
I blanche at the open honesty but nod my head all the same. It would make me sick, too, if everything was reversed.
“Not because you enjoyed it, Alexis,” he slowly makes his way to the fire, “but because I know he never truly enjoyed you.”
“I can guess, Alexis…” his voice turns cool, “I don’t like to, but I can ease that sick pull in my mind when I think of him with you.
He most likely kept your clothes on and met you in hidden rooms and spaces, and rarely ever kissed you with the passion you deserve.
His advances were probably quick to start and even quicker to end, little touches here and there that were stolen under the false pretense of having fun before he moved on. ..”
“But you deserve so much more than that, Alexis, and I find solace in the knowledge that he was never capable of giving you what you deserve. He didn’t and most likely still doesn’t recognize the being he had in front of him…
what the being of you demands. And I find solace in knowing that I will never treat you in that manner, that our touches have already been so much more than that. ”