11
Celestine arrived late yet just in time to see Darcen finish his dinner. Again, at the same table as our enemy.
She sat down and stared at her food.
Meront assessed his sister. His jaw rocked vigorously as he chewed. “Eat, Celeste.” A gentle command, but one all the same.
Celestine glared at him. It didn’t last long. As their blue eyes clashed, his softened. So did Celestine’s expression. She sighed and slowly carved into her turkey before delivering a small piece to her mouth.
Sipping his water, Meront watched Darcen leave the prayer hall.
I finished eating and waited until Celestine had taken a few more mouthfuls. Then I said, “I looked for you today.”
“I didn’t want to be found.”
“I guessed as much.”
She set down her cutlery. “I’m not the best company right now.”
“Your broken heart doesn’t scare me.”
When she looked at me, I immediately regretted my poor attempt at making her smile.
Darcen’s decision had darkened her blue eyes. They were swollen, red-rimmed, and murky like an overcast sky. It hurt to see, but I didn’t look away as I reached for her hand. I held it tight, then brought it to my mouth and kissed it.
A tear left her eye. She swiped it before staring at her dinner again. Quiet, she said, “I just feel stupid.”
“You don’t need me to tell you that you’re not stupid.”
“No, but I just…” Her shoulders slumped. “We’ve been friends since we could walk, and I’ve known for almost as long how things must be.” Picking up her fork, she stabbed at her vegetables while saying, “For him, at least.”
Though that was true, neither of them had known they were fated until they’d kissed.
When I said as much, she explained, “But I could have let it be. If I’d just ignored it, then I wouldn’t feel so…” Frustrated, she hissed, “So fucking horrible.”
Darcen had to feel the same. Maybe it was unfair of me to assume, but I couldn’t help it. He certainly seemed to be faring much better than Celestine.
Meront twirled his cup in his hands, over and over, as he watched his sister struggle to eat more. I wasn’t sure whether his silence came from a place of anger or concern. Perhaps both. When Haynes dropped onto the bench beside him, he stiffened.
As did Celestine.
Haynes drummed his hands on the table and grinned at Meront. “We’ve been given permission to hunt tomorrow.”
Meront placed the cup down. “How many?”
“The usual.” Haynes stole a piece of carrot from Celestine’s plate. But he paused with it before his mouth. “Except we need to take a youngling.” Rolling his eyes, he tossed the carrot into his mouth and mumbled, “Training.”
Celestine’s lowered head didn’t keep Haynes from noticing her sullen state.
He finished chewing and frowned. “What happened, Princess?” With a glance at me, he asked, “Did we get more bad news?”
Darcen had wisely kept from telling all of his friends, then.
Meront elbowed Haynes. “Leave her be.” He rose and dragged our plates over the table. “Take these for me. I’ll meet you in a bit.”
Haynes gaped at the dishes, then at Meront, eyes wide as the prince set our cups atop the plates. Meront clapped him on the shoulder, and Haynes finally left.
“Kind but unnecessary.” Celestine pushed up and stepped free of the bench. “I’m going to bathe and read anyway.”
As she walked to the back of the hall, I called, “Want help with the tub?”
She shook her head and disappeared into the shadows shrouding the doorway.
To my surprise, Meront accompanied me upstairs to the west wing. Save for Priestess Mala, who inclined her head in greeting before exiting the sitting room, the wing was empty.
When I was certain she was gone, I confessed, “I don’t know what to do. I feel so helpless.”
I wished I’d only been referring to Celestine and Darcen. Since leaving the safety of my room this afternoon, I’d constantly ensured my hair covered the scratches adorning the side of my neck. While bathing, I’d braced for the sting when quickly washing them.
I hadn’t been relieved to feel no pain at all.
Afterward, I’d obsessively touched the deep angry grooves in my room—almost as terrified as I’d been hours prior with the wolf who’d given them to me.
“There’s nothing you can do.” Meront climbed the sitting room steps to the library. “He’s rejecting her, and that’s that.”
I scowled. “Harsh.”
He sat upon a table. “Yet true.”
Noting the rigid set of his jaw, I walked up the steps. “Are you mad at her?” I then asked, “Perhaps at Darcen?”
“You might think me unfair but…” He sighed and dragged his hand through his hair. “Both.” His hand stayed within his hair as he eyed me. “Honestly, I’m more bothered that I let you go into that cupboard with the beast prince.”
Stunned, I just muttered, “He’s a wolf.”
“Evil is what he is.” Meront’s hand met his thigh with a slap. “He could have hurt you,” he said. “Or worse.”
He had no idea.
I prefer my enemies alive and worried.
I turned away as the memory of Voran choking me, scratching me, and brushing my blood over my panicked pulse tried to consume me yet again.
“You were so scared, Ayla.”
If he only knew how scared I was now. He couldn’t. He’d do something foolish to help me that would only make things worse. He’d get himself injured or killed or put in the sea cells, and I would remain indebted to the evil prince.
Days ago, I would’ve been hideously thrilled to know Meront’s moodiness had been caused by guilt. After all that had happened, I was mostly just annoyed.
So much so that I rolled my eyes and lied. “If he was going to hurt me, he would have done it before then.” Gripping the stone railing, I looked down at the sitting room, but stopped my eyes from roaming to the cupboard. “He wouldn’t do it in a cupboard in a room full of people.”
“You cannot be certain of that.”
“No.” I turned back to face him. “But we cannot be certain of anything right now, can we?”
Meront’s brows dipped low over his cobalt eyes. His lips parted, then closed. He rolled them between his teeth as his hands clenched the table edge.
Tingling discomfort gnawed. The type that often visited when Meront was near. Unable to stand it at the moment, I walked to the bookshelves I’d climbed. It was strange to realize that little more than a week had passed since Celestine had left me hanging from those shelves.
Since Prince Voran’s shocking arrival.
Stranger still was that, with each passing day, my evenings had become less clogged by thoughts of Meront. Over the last few nights, not even Celestine’s engrossing books could dissuade my mind from wandering to the Valadorn prince.
To that kiss.
My fingers fluttered from embossed spines and danced toward my throat. After the events of today, that kiss would be the farthest thing from my mind. Instead, I’d likely spend the night fretting about a debt I could never repay and how he might have me attempt to do so.
“I am now certain of one thing,” Meront said—right behind me.
I almost jumped. Having forgotten what we’d just been talking about, I asked as I turned, “What?”
He stepped so close that my back met the shelves, and said low, “I’m certain I don’t want anyone to kiss you.”
“Oh,” I breathed.
He was bergamot and musk. Heady and familiar. But when he clasped my hand in his and gazed down at it, that discomfort returned.
And it wasn’t pleasant.
“Did you kiss him, Ayla?”
I was thankful he wasn’t looking at me. He would have seen the color draining from my face before I could decide on telling the truth or dancing around it.
“It was a game, Meront.” My response sounded meek rather than soft. I loathed it almost as much as I loathed saying, “We all played.”
His eyes rose to mine. That vivid blue seemed to dull as he searched my gaze—my entire face. “Haynes said you did, but I didn’t believe him.” He frowned and stepped back. “Didn’t want to believe him.”
Not knowing what to do, I lifted a shoulder. “It seems unfair to treat me differently. As I said, you played too.”
“I didn’t kiss the enemy.”
Maybe I should have lied. His behavior after Featherfall made it clear he wouldn’t have believed me. But he’d have wanted to, and perhaps that would have been enough for him to pretend he did.
“No.” I failed to trap the blistering response. “You sat there and presumed he’d just terrify me instead.”
“Did you like it?” he asked.
That wasn’t anywhere near the realm of things I’d expected he’d say next. Shocked and mildly sickened, I shook my head and made to leave. “You should know better than to think I’d enjoy kissing someone so heinous.”
Except I had. I really, really had.
Meront grabbed my wrist.
I halted and stared at his hand. Before I could scowl at him, that hand slid down to my own. “You’re right.” His fingers glided over my palm, then linked with mine. I met his eyes as he said, “I’m sorry. I just…”
I swallowed. “Just what?”
He tugged me back to him and cupped my face in his other hand. Tendrils of dark brown hair were cast back from my cheek.
“I wanted to be the one who kissed you in that cupboard.” He lowered his head and whispered, “Maybe it’s what I deserve for being so cowardly. Goddess knows if I’d had the courage to do what I wanted before that stupid game, then we wouldn’t have even played.”
Anticipation swelled as we both stood there, our mouths an inch apart.
“Meront,” I rasped, unsure how to close the gap and kiss him just like I’d imagined countless times.
“Can I kiss you?”
Not expecting him to ask after he’d already taken my face and hand, I frowned. My heartbeat became sluggish. Breaths slipped between my lips too fast. Our eyes locked.
Perhaps whatever he saw in mine made him warn, “I’m going to kiss you now.”
Unable to speak, I just nodded.
Then he stilled my head by putting his mouth against my own.
He immediately opened it. His tongue swept inside. A shocked noise left me, and I gripped his wrist. He took that as permission to plunge his tongue deeper before kissing my spread mouth.
I didn’t know what to do—how to keep up—as he kept using his tongue between open-mouthed kisses. So I just let him do as he wished until our lips became really wet, his body pushed mine against the bookshelves, and his hands began to drift down my body.
Then I turned away.
I sucked in a gulp of air, and as it rushed from me, so did breathless words. “We should stop before we’re caught.”
Meront turned my face back to his. He kissed me once more. Just lips this time. “Better than I dreamed,” he murmured.
My smile shook. I rose onto my toes to kiss his cheek, then left him in the library.
I locked myself in my room. Against the door, I rubbed my lips and questioned why that kiss hadn’t felt anything like I’d dreamed.