Chapter 3
AMRI
I follow the beta, taking in his confident stride and how he moves with purpose without rushing.
There’s something … calming about walking in his wake.
Soft sunlight filtered through lush greenery comes into view ahead.
A solarium? I think that’s what this space would be called.
As the hunter ahead of me approaches a shifter hunched over a table set up with pots and a hand shovel, I can’t help but let my gaze wander.
A plant with giant leaves three times the size of my head climbs the trunk of a tree.
I want to run my fingers over the glossy leaves, but that might draw attention to my presence.
I follow the pristine brick path, winding my way through the lush foliage, while keeping an eye on the lion beta.
The clean scent of soil fills the air, and I take a deep breath as I settle in behind a palm of some sort.
The lion leans his hip against the table as the other shifter bends down and scoops a small pot into a large bag of dark soil.
As he brings it back to the table, he plops a tiny green plant into the pot and starts gently filling it in around the roots as he answers a question I must have missed.
“ Yeah, now Leonora wants to receive her guest in here, which normally, fine, great.”
Guest? Who is Leonora meeting? Finally, something interesting.
The shifter goes on, “But then she goes and says she wants everything done by hand because, and I quote, ‘magic messes with the plants.’”
My lips twitch with a smile at the annoyance in the shifter’s voice. The masked beta pats his back, his voice filled with kindness as he says, “You know how she gets sometimes.”
The shifter sets the newly planted cutting down a little too roughly on the table, the pot clanking loudly against the wood surface.
He gripes. “But this? We all know magic helps the plants. They like it. Yet here I am with dirt under my nails and a shitload of cuttings to plant, and I haven’t even gotten to the watering yet, not to mention wiping down the leaves and fertilizing and … ugh.”
He sounds like a whiny child, but the beta just pats his back again with a good-natured chuckle and says, “Her commands don’t have to make sense or be fair, we just serve and obey. You want some help?”
My focus draws to his left arm where his hand is in his pocket.
His triceps flex, cutting a muscular line to his elbow, and I’d bet his hand is clenched.
It seems this beta is a master of saying one thing while feeling an entirely different way about it.
He’s tense, or uneasy, or … something. I wonder if he’s scowling behind that mask.
The shifter shakes his head, waving off the lion’s offer as he says, “Nah. I’m sure you have your own checklist of things to do.”
The beta slides his other hand into his pocket and nods. “That I do, so I’ll leave you to it. ”
The shifter sighs, looking over the line of empty pots on the table before him. “Thank you, Askari”
Askari. I have a name. Now, if I can catch him without that mask, I can attach a face to the name.
I follow Askari as he leaves the solarium, observing the beta as we weave down countless hallways.
He pops his head into a library, asking a quick question to whomever is inside before moving on.
We walk through at least three rooms I’ve already searched, each seemingly holding no other purpose except to take up space and hold furniture.
Still, Askari weaves the occasional spell to remove the dust from a table here, fluff a few pillows there, dims or brightens the firelight in the sconces or fireplaces, cleans a rug that already seemed spotless to me, and a dozen other little tasks.
I frown the longer I watch him. It’s my job to be overly observant, and I realize there’s a tension underneath the casual way he goes about his busy work.
It’s like he’s going through the motions, waiting or wanting to do something else instead.
It seems Askari’s face isn’t the only part of him that is masked.
His posture, his voice, his movements, all convey a man content and happy in his place in life, but there are small signs of underlying urgency …
or tension? Does it have something to do with Malik?
Did Leonora do something to him after I walked away?
I grind my teeth against that thought as I continue to follow Askari through the palace.
Every shifter he passes greets him with a smile and kind words.
He places a gentle hand on the heads of those in their beast forms, offering them a soft word of greeting before moving on.
On more than one occasion, a shifter or two stops Askari with a request or complaint, but even those grievances are said with care.
Seems this beta is generally well-liked among the Leos.
As I follow Askari through yet another seemingly unused room—in one door along the west wall and out another on the east wall—the stone in my pocket gets warmer.
Leonora is close.
Sure enough, after a brisk walk down a narrow hall gleaming with gold accents, Askari strides through a set of open double-doors. Two masked hunters flank the entrance and nod their heads at the beta as he enters. I follow, the guards none the wiser.
Leonora sits on a padded stool with a large mirror before her, and a male shifter standing behind her.
The Leo goddess wears a surprisingly modest outfit; a gold sleeveless shirt with a V-neck that dips just below her collarbones.
The silky shirt is tucked into a pair of wide-leg cream pants with a thin gold belt threaded through the loops.
A chain hangs from her waist, down her left hip, and pools on the floor.
The pink-tinged morning light streaming through a window to her right highlights her flawless face, showcasing a light dusting of gold on her cheekbones and across her eyelids.
Malik is not at his customary place by her side. He’s not even in the room. Is that good or bad?
As Askari approaches, the shifter standing behind Leonora weaves his hands, gold light spilling from his palms as her long black hair floats into a complicated updo. Leonora purses her lips, tilting her head at her reflection. “Mm. No.”
The shifter quickly lets down her hair before trying another style, this time adding soft curls.
Askari kneels at his goddess’ side, bowing his head.
The stone in my pocket is so warm, I worry it’s going to burn a hole through my pants.
Leonora reaches out a hand, and as she strokes her fingernails into Askari’s hair, petting him, a rush of possession causes me to take a single step towards them before I stop myself.
What was that?
I force myself to stand still, hugging the wall as Leonora asks, “Is everything ready for my guest?”
Askari doesn’t move from his bowed position, and Leonora continues to pet him as he says, “Almost, my goddess.”
“Good. Good. It’s been too long since I’ve seen dear Circe, and I want everything to be absolutely perfect.”
Circe? The famed sorceress is coming here? I have a really bad feeling about this.
My beast thumps her tail. “Bad feeling? Circe is the sorceress, and Bodi and Rian are mated to witches whose coven is ready to join their fight. Suspicious? Yeah. I’d say so.”
I tune out my wolverine’s sass as Leonora continues, “You understand, don’t you, Askari? How I need everything to be just-so? How I want no more surprises ?”
Her nails dig into Askari’s scalp as she says that last word. I wince on his behalf, but he doesn’t even flinch. He simply says, “Of course, my goddess.”
With her free hand, she waves away the shifter still working on her hair. “High, tight pony, then go.”
The shifter quickly weaves his hands, and Leonora’s hair slicks into a perfect ponytail, the silky strands falling like black oil all the way down the center of her back.
With a feather-light touch, the shifter gathers her hair, smoothing it down.
There’s a reverent look on his face as he makes sure every hair is in place.
He nods, bows, then leaves. The two guards ignore him as he strides past, his back straight, his posture tall.
All the while, I’ve been taking notes. Notes of his white-blond hair streaked with grey, of his grey eyes, and the slight hook of his nose.
I catalogued the scar on the back of his right hand, and the way he walks with a shorter gate than would be normal for a male of his height.
I tuck all that information away, committing the shifter to memory as I have done to several others, because that one adores Leonora.
Pulling my attention back to the room, I slip my hand in my pocket and move the stone so it burns against a different part of my thigh.
Leonora curls her fingers, gripping Askari’s hair, yanking his head back.
He makes no outward reaction to her rough treatment, and she fingers his mask before pulling it away from his face.
She sets the porcelain lion mask on the cushion next to her, but I can only make out the edge of his profile from where I’m standing.
Leonora leans in, and the length of her ponytail falls over her shoulder.
I have the absurd desire to run my hands through it, and I shake it off with a rush of anger.
I’m not a Leo, yet her power affects me like this.
How do they stand it? Some obviously love the way Leonora makes them feel …
and I kind of understand. It’s a warm sensation, like pulling your favorite blanket out of the dryer and wrapping it around you.
The longer I look at Leonora, the more I want her to look at me , to see me, to smile at me, to touch me.