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Page 7

by Kali Argent


  “I shouldn’t have had to do it at all.”

  “No, I suppose you’re right.” Taking her hands, he stood, pulling her up with him. “How are you feeling?”

  “Tired.”

  She’d overexerted her magic during the summit, and moreover, she hadn’t slept well since that night. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the carnage, the devastation, and she knew it would haunt her for some time to come.

  “Go, rest.” Gently, he slipped two knuckles under her chin in a move she was becoming very familiar with, urging her head up for a chaste kiss. “I’ll make sure no one bothers you.”

  Though brief, barely more than a brush of their lips, his kiss sent tingles down her spine and tripped her heart into a wild gallop. Since their reunion, he’d been careful with her, contained. Under the circumstances, she didn’t expect him to whisk her away and tear her clothes off, but she wouldn’t mind a little less restraint from the shifter, either. Unfortunately, that conversation would have to wait for another day.

  “There’s much to do before the families arrive tomorrow.”

  “And there are plenty of people here to handle it. You don’t have to take on everything.”

  “It wouldn’t be proper.”

  “So stubborn,” Sion muttered under his breath, but he graced her with a smile and bent to press their lips together again. “You’ve already done more than enough. You notified the families, counseled the grieving, and have single-handedly arranged the grieving ceremony. It’s time to rest, princess.” He curled his fingertips around the curve of her jaw to cradle the side of her face. “You look better, but I know you didn’t sleep well last night.”

  “How could you know my sleeping habits?” She didn’t deny his accusation, but since they hadn’t shared a room since her arrival in Sommervail, she couldn’t see how he’d be privy to such information. Garrik certainly hadn’t told him as her brother refused to be within shouting distance of the Helios.

  Grinning, he swept the pad of his thumb across the top of her cheek. “Blood shot eyes. Dark circles. Erratic mood swings.”

  “I do not have mood swings.” She smacked him in the chest and glared.

  “Right.” His left eyebrow winged upward, disappearing into his auburn hair. “I stand corrected.” He swept his thumb across her lips when she started to argue again. “I promise to wake you if you’re needed.”

  Waiting for him had almost killed her, both physically and emotionally. Staring into his beseeching gaze, feeling his gentle touch, witnessing how he fought to be mindful of his every word, every action, she didn’t regret her decision. Their future together had only just begun, and there were so many things they had to learn about one another, but she couldn’t imagine facing forever with anyone else.

  Sion was her fate, her destiny, a reward for a thousand years of loneliness, and the missing pieces from a life she’d once thought of as whole. She could no more deny him than she could deny herself. From the moment he’d seen her in the entrance hall, he’d been trying to make amends for a situation he hadn’t even realized existed, but she’d already forgiven him. If he didn’t forgive himself, though, the guilt would eventually devour him.

  “Okay,” she conceded. “But just for a little while, and only if you promise to wake me if something important arises.”

  Taking her hand in his own, Sion gave her fingers a gentle squeeze and tugged her toward the library door. “I promise.”

  “Just for a little while,” she repeated as she suppressed a yawn, her eyes already beginning to burn with tiredness. “Maybe an hour.”

  He squeezed her hand again, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Whatever you say, princess.”

  After Sion walked her to her quarters, he kissed her lightly on the forehead and nudged her toward the bed before slipping out of the room to let her rest. More exhausted than she’d realized, Rya didn’t bother to undress or pull back the cream and gold blanket. Falling heavily onto the mattress, she tucked her hands under her chin and sunk instantly into dreams.

  Crimson stained her hands, her face, and her clothing, but not a drop of the blood belonged to her. As she ran, her ruined dressing gown caught on a branch of a nearby bush, ripping the pallid blue fabric in a jagged line above her knee.

  A gust of frigid wind whipped through the forest, making her limbs shiver and her lips tremble. Breath plumed from her open mouth in hazy clouds, and bumps rose over her skin. Her bare feet stung as they pounded over the frozen ground, and her ankles burned with tiny cuts from the thickets that surrounded the Forgotten Wood.

  Filtering through the barren canopy of trees, the moonlight barely illuminated her path, further hindering her escape. In the distance, ocelas bayed, their howls echoing across the night sky, but the hounds weren’t the only thing to be feared in the woods. Not on that night. The muffled sound of footsteps followed her in the darkness, interrupted occasionally by a male’s voice. He called her name once, twice, but she didn’t slow, didn’t look back to see who chased her.

  Her heart pounded against her breast bone, and her thoughts whirled chaotically, her mind filled with images of the carnage that bathed her home. She couldn’t think past her grief or her fear, couldn’t focus long enough to transport herself to safety. Even if she could, she didn’t know who to trust or where to turn for help.

  As the feelings of hopelessness and isolation descended, the scene shifted, and Rya found herself alone in the Forgotten Wood, wandering aimlessly, lost in the thick, swirling fog. Her heart still pounded, her legs felt heavy, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end. Nothing moved in the forest, and only the sound of her own erratic breathing interrupted the deafening silence. It was quiet, too quiet, yet instinctively she knew something within the fog watched her...stalked her.

  Pausing beside a knotted, gnarled tree, she pressed her hand to the wide trunk and closed her eyes. Breathing deeply through her nose, she tried to clear her mind and slow her pulse. Magic hung in the air, as thick and suffocating as the silvery fog. It strangled her, choked her, kept her on edge, so no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t summon the control she needed to transport. Black, cold, and unyielding, the magic wasn’t something she’d ever encountered before, but it scared the hell out of her.

  Somewhere to the right, beyond the twisted trees and tangled bushes, a deep, rumbling growl broke through the quiet. Snapping to attention, Rya spun toward the sound, gasping when a pair of glowing red eyes shined back at her through the darkness. Stumbling backward, her bare heel caught in the exposed roots of the tree, and she lost her balance, falling...right off the side of her four-poster bed.

  Her hip ached from the impact with the stone floor, but she gritted her teeth and pushed into a sitting position, leaning back against the raised bed frame. Sitting quietly, she pulled her knees up under her chin and clasped her hands around her ankles, trying to slow her pulse and calm her breathing. It wasn’t the first time she’d dreamed about that night, and she doubted the pain of it would ever truly leave her.

  Her dreams distorted the memories, twisted them. In reality, she’d run into the Forgotten Wood to escape the bloodshed at Clearwater Manor, but it hadn’t been an unknown foe who had chased her. It had been her brother, Garrik, charging into the dark to protect her. There hadn’t been any fog, no glowing red eyes from any fearsome beast.

  Nearly a thousand years later, she still didn’t know why it had happened, why her parents had needed to die. The royal sentries had ended Xander and Dayah Clearwater’s lives, but Rya didn’t believe they’d planned the attack. Not one of the four guards who had stormed into the manor and cut down her parents had stood to gain anything from their deaths. They’d been pawns, a means to an end, and completely disposable. Proven by the fact that they’d chosen to die rather than allow themselves to be captured.

  Unfortunately, with no further information, the tragic story ended there.

  As her heartbeat slowed, she inhaled once more, held it for a mo
ment, then released it slowly, breathing out the bitterness and resentment the memories aroused. The sunlight that floated into her room bathed the walls in the blue hues of early morning. She’d slept longer than she’d intended. There were still things that needed attending to before guests began arriving for the ceremony, and she didn’t have time to dwell in the past.

  Rising to her feet, Rya went about her morning routine quickly, showering, brushing out her hair, and changing into a simple brown and gold tunic dress that brushed just above the tops of her knees. The first shuttles would be landing soon, and she wanted to be in the front courtyard to meet the families from her Isle, but first she needed to find her mate, and according to her rumbling stomach, breakfast.

  After slipping into a pair of gold sandals and lacing the straps up to her knees, she slid her linguistic translator onto her right lobe, and fit the button-like transponder into her left ear. Tapping the side of the transponder, she spoke the command for the micro-processor to contact Sion, and waited. Within seconds, a muffled, rhythmic chirp began, the sound emitting from somewhere in the corridor beyond her quarters.

  Her eyebrows drew together, and her lips tugged down at the corners as she crossed her room and pulled the door open with a quiet creak. Following the beeps, she stepped out into the hallway, and stopped abruptly at the sight that met her. Propped up against the wall, legs splayed in front of him, head lolled to the side, Sion snored softly right outside her door.

  His auburn hair had come loose of its leather band, falling in a wavy curtain over his face. The sharp points of his canines peeked out below his upper lip, and his nostrils flared adorably with each inhalation. Beside him, discarded on the stone floor, his transponder blinked and chirped, but the noise had yet to rouse him.

  You look better, but I know you didn’t sleep well last night.

  How could you know my sleeping habits?

  Her heart warmed, and a tiny smile played over her mouth. Disconnecting the transmission, she crouched beside her mate and brushed the silken strands away from his face. At her touch, he jerked upright, his eyelids popped open, and a quiet snarl escaped him.

  Unfazed, Rya continued to smile.

  “Good morning, my darling. Sleep well?”

  “Rya?” Groaning, Sion scrubbed both hands over his face and pushed his hair back roughly. “What are you doing, princess?”

  “I might ask you the same. Why are you sleeping outside of my quarters?”

  All remnants of sleep vanished, and he ducked his head, looking sheepishly at her through his lashes. “I, uh, I didn’t know how far apart we could be without you getting sick again.”

  By the ancestors, if he was any more adorable, her heart would burst right out of her chest. “It’s less a matter of location and more about time. Come.” Standing, she held her hand out to him. “I’ll explain over breakfast.”

  After hooking his transponder around his ear, he reached for her hand...just as a door further down the hall swung open. Bounding to his feet, he bared his teeth as he swung his arm out, shuffling Rya behind him while he used his body to shield her from the perceived threat.

  Poor Fawkes stumbled to a stop in the middle of the corridor, a strange expression lining his face. His gaze slid past Sion to land on Rya, and he tilted his head to the side, his golden sheet of hair flowing over one shoulder. He appeared unaffected by Sion’s aggressive display—only mildly curious, as evident by the way his eyebrows arched upward.

  “Good morning, Vasera.” Fawkes nodded deeply, the corners of his lips twitching with obvious amusement. “I trust you slept well.”

  “Good morning, Fawkes.” Still trapped behind her mate, Rya peeked around Sion’s arm and offered a small wave. “Would you like to join us for breakfast?”

  “No.” Still partially crouched, Sion took a measured step back, pushing her closer to the wall.

  His desire to protect her was sweet, but completely unnecessary. Hoping to diffuse his hostility, she rubbed her palm in soothing circles across his back as she spoke.

  “Sion, this is my attendant, Fawkes Hollywell. Fawkes, please allow me to introduce you to my soulmate, Sion Jabari.” When Sion didn’t respond, she sighed and offered Fawkes an apologetic smile. “Well, yes, Sion is very pleased to meet you.”

  Sion grunted, but didn’t move out of his defensive posture. “Really, I’m not.”

  The ancestors save her from overprotective fools. “Sion, that’s enough. Fawkes is like family, and he would never harm me. Your behavior is unbecoming.” She jabbed him in the shoulder with her index finger. “You’re being rude.”

  “Perhaps I should seek out Garrik.” Fawkes bowed his head again as he backed away. “I can see you’re in good hands, but I’ll be close if you need anything, Vasera.”

  With that, he turned, shoulders back, head high, and strode to the staircase at the end of the hallway. As he descended out of sight, she swore she heard his laughter echo up the stairwell.

  Rya didn’t find the situation quite as humorous. Grabbing Sion by the elbow, she spun him around to face her, fisting her hands on her hips and glaring at him. “What in the stars has gotten into you?”

  Sion could practically feel her anger, but he didn’t have an answer, not one that would satisfy her. Hell, he didn’t have an answer that made sense to him. He’d seen the other male, a male he didn’t recognize by sight or scent, and he’d reacted to protect his mate. None of her reassurances had mattered. The fact that Rya clearly knew the stranger, had even claimed him as kin, hadn’t registered until the threat—Fawkes, she’d called him—had retreated.

  “He laughed.”

  Rya’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Of course he laughed. What else was he supposed to do when you’re acting like a...a...asshead?”

  “I wasn’t—” Pausing, he tilted his head to the side and snorted. “I think you mean asshole.”

  “No.” Her cheeks flushed, and the corner of her right eye began to twitch. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

  Because “asshead” made so much sense. The only thing funnier than the Xenons’ literalism was their attempts to understand and employ Earth slang. Since he didn’t want to fight with Rya, he said none of that and tried a different tactic instead.

  Curling his arm around her, he flatted his palm against the small of her back and pulled her forward until she molded against his chest. Then he bent his neck to rest their brows together as he sighed.

  “I’m sorry.”

  The words tasted bitter on his tongue. Every part of him rebelled at the thought of apologizing for keeping her safe, for protecting her—even if there hadn’t been an actual threat. Still, he understood the situation called for diplomacy, and he had, in fact, acted like a complete savage. In actuality, he wasn’t sorry for what he’d done, only that it had caused Rya distress.

  “You’re not,” Rya whispered, but the lines in her face smoothed as she relaxed into him. “Possessiveness and being overprotective are kind of...side effects of the bond, but I’ve never seen it in action. I should probably apologize as well, but like you, I’m not sorry.”

  Sion chuckled. “No one said this was going to be easy, princess. One day at a time, right?”

  He, on the other hand, had seen what the bond between soulmates did to a Xenon male. Even months after their initial meeting, Kai still had a difficult time controlling his baser instincts, especially when it came to Ivy’s wellbeing. With the added stress of her pregnancy, the king had turned into a neurotic mess. As a non-Xenon, Sion had hoped to escape some of the more intense reactions, but so far, that didn’t seem to be the case.

  But not all of his feelings were violent.

  Being this close to his mate, sudden desire lanced through him, burning away any vestiges of his former ire. Tilting Rya’s head up, he leaned in closer, but paused just before their lips met. “I’m going to kiss you now.”

  “I know.” Her gaze fixed on his mouth. “I’m not going to stop you.”

  “I know
,” he echoed.

  Sliding his fingers through her silky curls, he held her firmly but gently, slanting their mouths together in a hard, demanding kiss. When she gasped, he took advantage, delving between her lips to entwine their tongues in an erotic duel. She tasted sweet, like fresh berries with warm cream, and the scent of golden sunshine enveloped him until nothing else existed except the female in his arms.

  When she pulled away far enough to sigh his name, he nearly lost his damn mind. Stars, he wanted her, more than anything, but not yet, not like this. He’d have her, and soon, but she deserved better than some quick, hormone-fueled fuck against the wall.

  Never before had Sion denied himself in any of the pleasures life had to offer. When he wanted something, he took it, but with Rya, things were different. It wasn’t just about him anymore. It wasn’t about what he wanted, or even what he needed. From the moment he’d chosen to be with her, his priorities had shifted, leaving little room for anything other than her safety and happiness.

  So, he’d wait, and he’d do so not only because she was worth it...but because he wanted to be worthy of her.

  Choking back a pained groan, he eased away, creating some much-needed space between them. With her scent filling his head, the marginal distance did little to help ease his lust. Holy nova, he needed to get away from her, or at least get them somewhere more public. With witnesses.

  “Breakfast?” His voice didn’t waver, though his insides continued to quiver.

  “What?” Rya looked just as dazed as he felt. “I...uh...” With a deep breath, she pulled her shoulders back and clasped her hands together, clearly fighting to regain composure. “Yes, breakfast, of course.” She motioned toward the end of the corridor. “Shall we?”

  Her lips were swollen and glossy from their kiss, and a soft pinkness tinted the tops of her cheeks. She breathed a little too shallowly, and her pupils were a little too dilated, the onyx so large, it nearly blotted out the color of her irises.

  “Right.”

  “Yes.” Rya nodded absently.

 

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