Chapter 6 Razik
Razik
“Do you ever sleep?” Wren grumbled as she languidly stretched beside him in bed.
Sitting against the headboard, he glanced down at her as she pulled the pillow over her head to hide from the sunlight.
He didn’t bother responding. She already knew the answer to that.
The sheets slid down with her movement, revealing bare skin.
They’d fucked last night, which wasn’t uncommon.
They’d simply both needed to relieve some tension, and the Source bond between them allowed them a deeper connection.
Sometimes it was just more convenient to take care of each other’s needs, and that had been the case last night after the Esbat Festival.
But fucking was all it was. Nothing more.
There was nothing exclusive about their arrangement, and they each took other partners when they wanted.
Except for the other Cadre members. He drew a line there, but that was at Wren’s request because they spent so much time with them.
She didn’t want the others to know she’d requested the boundary, afraid of offending them, and Razik was fine with that.
It was the least he could do when she’d willingly bound herself to him as his Source.
Besides, he didn’t particularly care who he offended.
Snapping closed the book he’d been combing through, he slipped from the bed, making his way to the bathing chamber. “It’s about time you woke up,” he called, looking back over his shoulder. “I’ve been wanting to go down for breakfast for the last hour.”
Wren rolled onto her back, propping herself up on her elbows. Long brown locks slid over her shoulder as her navy blue eyes locked on to him, clearly unimpressed. “Last I checked, you didn’t need me to escort you around the castle.”
Razik ignored her, pushing the door to the bathing chamber shut behind him.
He splashed water on his face, cleaned his teeth, and took care of other needs before going to the dressing room.
He dressed in his usual black pants and black tunic, the Cadre crest embroidered on the chest. Boots and weapons were next, and by the time he re-emerged in the bedchamber, Wren was out of bed and slipping on her own tunic.
“Put this in the laundry,” she said, tossing her Esbat cloak at him as she made her way to the bathing chamber. While he’d been in uniform last night, she’d been in the festival garb, enjoying the celebrations.
He waited impatiently for her to get ready, taking the ridiculous time females needed to do whatever they did in the mornings.
He’d been put on the team in charge of Cethin’s security last night, and as much as it had irked him, he couldn’t argue with the logic.
There hadn’t been any more attacks—phantom beings or otherwise—since the one at the castle a few weeks ago.
A large celebration was the perfect opportunity to strike, especially with so many Fae gathered in one place.
More than that, if the phantom beings had appeared, he’d be needed with his dragon fire, which is why Wren had stayed at his side the entire night as well.
Of course, nothing dire had happened, and it had put him in a sour mood that he’d had to spend his evening watching the arrogant king rather than doing…
anything else. And somehow, the bastard had still managed to get himself sliced up.
Cethin had played it off, but Razik was trained well enough to recognize a stab wound when he saw one.
How none of his guards had seen what had happened was still a mystery to him, but everyone had been on high alert the rest of the evening.
For no reason.
It’d been hours of watching females and males alike swoon over him. Watching him give smiles and polite conversation in return. Watching everyone get drunk.
It hadn’t been all bad, he supposed. After the king had fucked off back to the castle with a random female, they’d been relieved of their duties.
He’d met up with Jarek, Fallon, and the rest of the Cadre at a pub, where they’d toasted Valric and drank in his memory.
They’d done so a few times since his death, but today Tybalt was supposed to be appointing a warrior to fill the vacancy.
Today it would feel more final as they all moved on without a trusted member of their family.
The bathing room door flung open, and before Razik could say a word, Wren sighed dramatically. “Yes, yes, I know. I take too long, but I’d like to remind you once again that I do not need an escort through this castle.”
Razik sent her an unimpressed look, and she only smiled brighter before she pushed past him.
He followed her through the sitting room and out to the hall.
Everyone in the castle appeared to be moving slower this morning.
Despite the tired faces, the staff all had smiles, clearly having enjoyed themselves at the festival.
Normally, he’d go back to Tybalt’s estate house for breakfast. Magdalena made the best pastries he’d ever had, but with the Cadre meeting later this morning, it made more sense to simply stay here.
“Are you staying for the meeting today?” he asked Wren as they descended a set of stairs.
She scoffed. “No. Your meetings are boring,” she replied airily. He huffed at her response and glanced down to find her smirking up at him in amusement. Then she elbowed him in the side. “Someday you’re going to realize it’s okay to smile every once in a while.”
He did smile. When it was warranted. Which was rare.
“Then what are you going to do today?” he inquired, turning the last corner that would take them to the dining room.
She shrugged beside him, keeping pace. “Go help assist the Fae who are choosing to relocate into the city for a while. There’s so few of us left, that…” She shrugged again, trailing off. “I feel like I could offer reassurance or something. Maybe—”
Wren cut off abruptly as they entered the dining room, both of them pausing mid-step.
The table was laden with the usual breakfast offerings, but it was still fairly early for Avonleya.
He preferred to be the first one down here so he could be finished when everyone else showed up, and usually he was.
Granted, he was later than usual, but he’d thought he’d still be fine considering everyone had been at the festival last night.
Which is why neither of them had expected to find a female sitting at the table.
Her midnight hair flowed around her shoulders, and she wore a black long-sleeved top. Amber eyes swirling with smoke narrowed on them, marking her as an Ash Rider, but what was she doing here by herself?
Recovering from the momentary surprise, he said nothing as he made his way down the table to his usual chair. He’d seen Cethin leave with her last night, but he hadn’t realized she was the Ash Rider. Had Cethin actually done something useful for once in his life?
“Hello,” Wren ventured with a tentative smile because that was who she was. Kind-hearted to a fault. She didn’t see it, but people took advantage of that. Or they had before she’d become his Source. He’d put a stop to that shit real quick.
“I’m Wren,” she continued, reaching for the bowl of fruit and waiting.
Apparently she was going to wait forever because the female didn’t say a godsdamn word. Only continued to watch them.
“That’s Razik,” Wren went on because she also babbled when she was nervous, which was clearly the female’s intention. “Are you one of the Fae who are relocating here?”
Of course she wasn’t. Ash Riders had Avonleyan blood in their line somewhere that gave them their gifts. Wren knew this too, but she was trying to make some kind of conversation for whatever reason.
Razik slid a hotcake onto her plate along with two sausage links, and when she peered up at him helplessly, he poured some syrup on the hotcake too. Then he said, “I believe Orson and Riggs were tending to the Fae today. If you’re still planning to accompany them, you’d best take that plate to go.”
Her shoulders sagged with relief as she pushed to her feet. “Yes, I had better do that.” She gathered the plate and a fork, Razik adding a hard-boiled egg to the other food. He’d been taking a lot of power from her lately. “Send a message if you need me?”
He nodded and returned to filling his own plate as she quickly left the room. Feeling the other female’s eyes on him the entire time, he didn’t even glance at her. Not until his plate was full and he’d shoved a piece of ham into his mouth did he settle back in his chair and make eye contact.
She was still staring, her plate clean and empty.
She hadn’t touched any of the spread. Those swirling eyes narrowed again at his attention.
He took a bite of his orange scone. If she thought silence was going to unnerve him, she was sitting with the wrong male.
He relished the silence. Fuck, he wished every meal was like this.
And that was how the next fifteen minutes passed in blessed silence. Maybe the gods had finally stopped punishing him.
Or not.
Cethin appeared a moment later, looking a little flustered. His silver hair wasn’t tied back like it usually was, and his clothing was wrinkled.
“My apologies for being late. I lost track of time,” he said to the female. Silver eyes flicked to Razik in a glare before going back to her. “Have you been waiting long?”
She stayed silent, and Razik smirked. See? He could smile when things were actually amusing.
Cethin sighed, taking the seat across from her. “We both know how the not speaking thing works out, tiny fiend.”
“Don’t call me that,” she ground out from between her teeth.
Cethin wasn’t fazed. “As discussed last night, until you grace me with your name, I’ll call you whatever I please.” He glanced at Razik once more. “You didn’t offer our guest any food?”
“Your guests aren’t my responsibility,” he said simply before taking a bite of his eggs. “But beyond that, she was waiting here before I got to the hall, so the rude one in this situation is you, your Majesty.”