Chapter 54
Fifty-Four
Waking up in Fieran’s bed came with a lot of feelings for me.
Some of them were purely physical. My head rested on the hard, broad warmth of his shoulder.
My hand drifted over his bare chest. I’d found his physical contact comforting the night before, but waking up to it was something else entirely.
Harsh light streamed in through the windows, the curtains jerking in the breeze.
Fieran had one arm draped protectively over my waist, and when I started to pull away, his bicep flexed beneath me, pulling me a little closer. His hand traced absentmindedly down my hip, even though he was still half-asleep.
I wouldn’t have pegged the manipulative bastard for a cuddler.
I eased out of the bed and out of his grip. He stirred, still reaching for me.
I touched the ring he’d threaded onto some once-priceless chain, dangling now between my breasts.
Marrying him might well be the clever choice, but in the cool light of day, I felt ashamed of my raw need and vulnerability. I’d had sex with men before; I’d never been needy.
And yes, he’d unspooled his secrets for me, too. But he was a liar, a charmer, a manipulative bastard.
He might also be the kingdom’s best warrior, the mortals’ champion for freedom, the future king we needed.
Fear was complicated, and so was…whatever I felt for him.
I studied his bookcase, finding a complete set of compendiums, one for each of the nine clans. No. Eight.
There was no book of Clan Amber dragons.
He had known what dragon would choose Ander. He’d studied them. Why wouldn’t that book be here?
I glanced over at him, still sleeping in the bed, his arm thrown wide as if he were waiting for me to come back into bed and snuggle my head into his side. I opened the drawers of his desk, moving quietly.
No book.
I moved to his wardrobe, searching beneath his soap-scented tunics and the cloaks that still carried the scent of dragon smoke. There was nothing—and then the ring glowed between my breasts with throbbing warmth, and a secret compartment popped open.
I stared down at it, then looked over my shoulder at him.
Sneaky little mortal, indeed. His accusation wasn’t wrong.
I shifted aside letters, a few trinkets, and a tattered stuffed crow. My heart seized on that last one, realizing he’d not only kept some childhood toy, but also hidden it.
There was a Clan Amber compendium with an ancient cover I’d never seen before, the gilt half worn off the edges of the pages. I lifted it free.
Wearing his tunic, which hung loose on me, I stepped out into the hall and headed down toward the common room that had once been forbidden to me, hoping to find Kiegan.
But as I walked past an open doorway, I sensed movement. “Cara?”
He came to the doorway just as I reached it, the two of us almost collided. He froze, something unreadable flickering across his face. Nervousness, maybe? It was always hard for me to read him, given how different the two of us were.
He stepped back into the room. “I was just looking through those dragon books. What are you doing here?”
“It used to be my home too,” I said tartly. The sharpness in my tone was an obvious tell that I felt guilty about waking up in Fieran’s quarters.
“I know. I wish it still was.”
His gaze flicked to the tunic I was wearing.
I touched my hair, which was hopelessly tousled. “It’s not what it looks like.”
“Wouldn’t care if it was,” he assured me.
Neither of us seemed convinced by that statement.
“The books,” I said, somewhat desperately, thrusting the one I’d just stolen ahead of me like a shield. “Do you have any idea which dragon might be yours?”
He gave a small shrug. “I think I’ll be lucky to get a dragon at all.”
“You thought no one would choose you at the ceremony, and yet Fieran chose you first.”
He gave me a baleful look. “I wonder why that was.”
“You were a good choice. You rose in the Trials. Of course one of the dragons is going to choose you. I think maybe Ironheart would be a good fit. He hasn’t chosen anyone in a while, but he’s always drawn to the more…special shifters.”
“Special,” Kiegan repeated dryly.
“I don’t have any brilliant ideas for how to draw Ironheart. But you’re solitary like he is, and kind, and driven by your conscience.”
He blushed. I couldn’t believe he actually blushed. “I don’t think so.”
He stood and shoved the other books into my hands, as if he wanted to get me out of there before I could possibly compliment him again.
I took them but didn’t leave. “Do you want me to go? Or is it okay if I stay here? If I don’t talk?”
“I didn’t say you can’t talk,” he said gruffly. “Of course you can stay. As long as you’re sure Fieran won’t murder me for having you in my room.”
“No,” I assured him, then added, “Well…maybe we should move to the common room.”
He scratched his enormous unshaven jaw as we walked out to the couches together.
“Any idea which dragon might claim you?” he asked after a moment, as I flipped through the new book, searching for Lightbringer. “Or rather, which one you’re claiming—since it seems you’re in control.”
“I’ve never said that,” I protested. “I’m not like Fieran, always scheming.”
“Aren’t you?”
“I do have a theory,” I admitted.
I flipped through the books. There were no mentions of Lightbringer. But there were torn out pages.
“Hmm,” Kiegan prompted.
“I’m still working it out,” I murmured, fingering the torn edges of the pages. Why would Fieran have torn them out of his own collection?
“I think he needs to marry me for his plan,” I said slowly. “To protect me, yes. But also for something else.”
Kiegan leaned forward, his protectiveness flaring. “You don’t want to marry him?”
I had no interest in answering that question, or even asking it within myself. Fieran and I certainly didn’t know each other well enough to be bound forever. But a marriage could be temporary. It could serve us both.
And beyond the practical reasons, I couldn’t deny the pull between is.
“Relax, Kiegan. If I did marry him, it wouldn’t have to mean anything. It would just be pretend.”
He sat back, skeptical. “Is that how it works in the mortal world?”
“Are we not romantic enough for orcs?” I shot back.
He snorted. “No. Gods know I’m not the result of a love match. Or a mated bond.”
I wanted to ask more about that, but I knew he wouldn’t talk. It was obvious from the way he held himself, guarded and steady, like a wall no one wise would try to breach.
But I wasn’t wise. Only clever. Eventually, I’d tear down Kiegan’s walls.
Still, I couldn’t let myself get distracted. I was on the verge of figuring out something important. “All the pages about Lightbringer are missing. I’d like to know who ordered the purge of those records.”
Kiegan’s brow furrowed. “What are you thinking about Lightbringer?”
“I don’t know much about her. But I have a feeling she’s supposed to be my dragon.
I think Fieran wants to marry me because Shadowbane and Lightbringer are mates—and maybe us being married will help bring her into this world.
I thought I’d damaged Fieran’s plans by going to Clan Amber—but what if I didn’t? ”
Kiegan’s head snapped up, his attention fixed on something behind me. I cut myself off.
Fieran stood in the doorway.
I couldn’t read the look on his face.
“You were too young. But did someone else manipulate my dragon mark?” I asked. “To make me the vessel for Lightbringer?”
He looked as if I’d slapped him. Something heavy plummeted in my chest.
“Cara, you clever, cursed mortal,” he said quietly. “What have you done?”
“Is that the reason I’m marked?” I asked, though it was impossible. He’d been a child when I was born. Still, I touched the mark on my skin, trying to make sense of it all.
“The mark is real,” he said, glancing at Kiegan. He was clearly unwilling to speak freely in front of him and perhaps unwilling to say too much even in front of me. “I can’t tell you the rest until you’re fully protected from the queen’s enchantments. You’ve figured out far too much on your own.”
“I’m sorry I’m not as stupid as you hoped,” I said crisply.
“Far from it. I’m delighted by how clever you are. I just wish this revelation had waited until you could protect it from her.”
I couldn’t shake the feeling that something terrible was bound up in this marriage vow. Something to do with Lightbringer. “Why are all these pages torn out?”
“To protect my plans,” he said simply. “Clearly, that hasn’t been enough when it comes to you.”
The knowledge that I couldn’t hold back the queen from whatever I’d uncovered—and Fieran’s evident fear that I might unravel all his schemes—set something uneasy burning in my chest. “I just need a moment to think. And then…we should go through with it.”
He nodded, clearly understanding my reluctance to say the word wedding. “I didn’t want it to be like this.”
“I just need a moment,” I repeated.
Whatever anxiety was written across my face, I saw it mirrored in Kiegan’s.
A wild hammering at the door, accompanied by a shout, made us all jump. Fieran headed for the door like a bolt shot cross from a crossbow, touching his shoulder; he drew his sword at the same time as he threw open the door.
Ander strode through without waiting for an invitation, chest heaving like he’d run the whole way from the palace. His dark hair was damp, eyes too bright, taking us all in at a glance until they locked on me.
“The queen has ordered us all to the arena,” Ander said shortly, voice rough. The words crashed through the room like another blow on the door. “Dress for court.”