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The Rogue King

Page 20

by Abigail Owen


  The few times Brand had been invited in, Ladon had preferred to conduct most of his business in that room. Something about the previous king holding too many secrets and, quote-unquote, not wanting to be like that asshole.

  The mix of warriors, advisors, and hangers-on who’d greeted Kasia on arrival lounged about the room in packs. Those standing scattered out of Brand’s path as he made his way across the room.

  At least his reputation still had some clout. Between Kasia and Arden showing no fear of him, he’d begun to worry he’d lost his edge.

  “Where’s Kasia?” Brand asked as soon as he could do so without yelling it across the room.

  Ladon slowly raised his eyebrows.

  Damn, had that been too proprietorial? Too demanding?

  “Resting,” Ladon said.

  It had been a long couple of days. Not to mention a long night. Unease on so many levels warred with a need that was all sorts of wrong. Something he acknowledged even as questions rang through his mind. Was she sore from his lovemaking? Did she want a repeat of last night? Because he sure as hell did, which was a big fucking problem.

  That’s all he’d had since he met Kasia. Problems.

  “Plus, she needed to have her hands healed,” Ladon commented.

  Brand frowned. “She said she was fine.”

  The king winced. “Then she lied. Her hands were sliced. Said she cut them up on one of your spikes trying to hold on when you were attacked.”

  Inside, Brand laid down a string of curse words. She’d said nothing to him. Not even a whimper of pain during the long ride here. The tips of those spikes were lethally sharp. She could’ve cut off her fingers.

  A dark anger—at himself, at Uther—surged through him.

  Ladon studied him more closely now. “Don’t worry. They were already starting to heal by the time you arrived, and Fallon will take care of the rest.”

  Brand schooled his features to neutral, an act which took more effort than normal. “I wasn’t worried. I…”

  What? Couldn’t stand the thought of her in pain? Gods, he’d sound like an idiot. One with designs on the king’s future mate.

  “I wanted to deliver your phoenix in good health.” Then Ladon’s words registered. “Wait. Who’s Fallon? What happened to Galen?”

  “Fallon’s also a healer, but he’s been in the colonies for several hundred years. His brother runs the enforcers you visited. He was here meeting his new mate when I took power.”

  Brand vaguely remembered that Finn had a brother. “I see.”

  Ladon grunted and stood. “Walk with me.”

  The rest of the entourage must’ve known what that meant, because no one stood and followed. Ladon led them out of the great room through a side tunnel Brand hadn’t explored before.

  Like the other tunnels throughout the complex, this one was gray rock, its walls still roughly hollowed out with spiraling grooves but worn smooth over time. Most of the tunnels were large enough to accommodate dragon shifters in their full-sized forms as long as their wings remained folded back, but not this one. This one was human sized. In fact, as tall as he was, Brand felt like the rock was pressing in on him from above.

  As soon as they were out of sight, they paused, listened a second, then Brand turned to Ladon right in time to get punched in the face.

  He landed on his ass, then glared up at the king as he rubbed his jaw. “What the hell was that for?”

  Ladon offered him a hand and pulled Brand to his feet. “You brought me a broken phoenix, asshole. Her hands were a bloody mess.”

  “So the punch was because…?”

  “She was in pain, and you didn’t notice.”

  Brand blew out a hard breath. “I’m already kicking myself that she hid it. No need to pile it on.”

  Ladon eyed him closely for a long second, then nodded. “Sorry.”

  “Whatever.” Brand shook his head. “Asshole.”

  That earned him another hard stare until they both broke. Grinning, they embraced as brothers.

  “Fuck, Brand,” Ladon said as they stood back.

  “I know.”

  “That was a big risk you took, bringing her here on your own.”

  Brand grinned. “Worth it.”

  Ladon clapped him on the shoulder, and they continued down the hall. “Who else knows about her?”

  He didn’t need an interpreter to figure out what his friend meant. He wanted to know how many creatures were already after their prize. Brand shrugged. “The doctor at the clinic who tipped you off had loose lips.”

  Ladon grimaced and ran a hand through his hair. “What’d you encounter on the way here?”

  “Wolves. Vampires. Uther.”

  “Fuck.” Ladon cocked his head. “That it?”

  Brand laughed. “I’d say that’s enough.”

  “Anything else?”

  “A hellhound.” It’d taken more than a day to separate that smoky scent from his and Kasia’s, but the taint of death underneath, sour and rotting, had given it away in the end.

  Ladon swore under his breath. “Dammit. Even Pytheios knows better than to mess with hellhounds. How did they get involved?”

  “No idea. Other than you and Hershel, I had no contact with anyone.” He crooked an eyebrow.

  Ladon took the hint and glanced around. “You already know about my source in Pytheios’s camp.”

  Brand nodded. “He’s remained useful?”

  “Yes. What about the bar you stayed at last night? Any of them need watching?”

  Brand shook his head at that. “Hershel’s got it under control.”

  Ladon nodded slowly. “I know you trust him, but—”

  “He practically raised me after Uther wiped out my family.” Brand glanced behind them and listened for a second, but no one else was anywhere near them. “If you hadn’t smuggled me to those caves and he hadn’t found me after that and taken me in, I wouldn’t be here. I trust him the same way I trust you.”

  Ladon held up a hand. “Okay.”

  A small amount of the tension riding Brand’s body eased. At least one worry was off his plate. Not the biggest worry, and not enough to make him relax around here, but that had more to do with being surrounded by so many shifters at once. That and Kasia, and the next step in plans he’d been carefully laying.

  “I know what you did for me out there,” Ladon said.

  Brand remained silent.

  “You brought me the key to victory, the key to eventual peace.”

  A boulder of protest settled in his gut. “I brought you a woman who, I should warn you, is determined to choose her mate for herself.”

  Now why the fuck had he felt the need to warn his friend? It couldn’t be the proprietary surge of emotion that seemed determined to wreck his plans for how this was going down.

  “I’ll bear that in mind.” Ladon grinned like he thought the idea of Kasia refusing him was amusing, and Brand tried not to knock the smirk off that scarred face.

  “Bringing her to you serves my own purposes,” he felt compelled to remind the man.

  Ladon sobered. “I know.”

  Good.

  Ladon turned left down another winding corridor. This one narrower with heavy wooden doors sporting numbers branded into the wood. He’d never been to this area before. Were they apartments? Guest suites? Large ones based on the space between doors. Ladon walked down to one and paused there to turn the iron knob. The door opened with a squeak of metal on metal as the hinges protested.

  This place was run-down, a legacy from the previous king who’d been weak. Thanatos had given everything over to Pytheios. Riches, resources, warriors. Even mates.

  Brand had worked with Ladon—providing intel, taking out minor players, and supplying resources like weapons and food from his non-dragon contacts—until Ladon had
taken that pawn out of the chess game permanently. A better king sat on the throne now.

  “This is your room for the time being,” he said.

  Brand pulled his thoughts out of the past and glanced around, taking in the room laid out by the natural terrain of stalactites and stalagmites forming a suite with a distinct bedroom, sitting area, and bathroom, decorated in blues and golds, though visibly faded and worn.

  “Kasia is next door.” Ladon nodded to the suite that was one more door up. “We’re fairly full here since Pytheios took our Alps location.”

  Brand wanted to protest, but given the reason, knew he wouldn’t get far.

  “Until I figure out what the best course of action is with you,” Ladon tacked on.

  That caught his attention. Brand turned away from his inspection of the room, head cocked.

  Ladon’s mouth flattened, his jaw working, and he suddenly appeared older than his years, the weight of the crown resting heavily on his shoulders.

  But what was there to decide about him? Brand had proved his loyalty publicly, which should have allowed them to move on to the next step in the plan—making him part of the Blue Clan.

  “You’ve proved your loyalty a hundred times over. No other dragon would have brought a phoenix to another dragon without guaranteed payment of some sort, and especially not a dragon like you. Not unless you were loyal.” Ladon held up both hands before Brand could speak. “As your friend, I already knew that, but now my Curia Regis know it, as do my warriors.”

  “But?”

  “We have a problem.”

  Brand crossed his arms. “The clan won’t accept a gold dragon who’s been rogue for five centuries?”

  Ladon snorted. “No. That would be your problem.”

  Okay.

  Ladon leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. “My informant among Pytheios’s people has demanded I turn you over to him as payment for his information.”

  Brand fisted his hands even as he kept his shoulders loose and his expression neutral. By habit, he’d already checked the room for smells or sounds that might indicate danger. No one else was anywhere nearby to take him away. “Why?”

  “So that he may retain the appearance of unimpeachable loyalty to Pytheios. You know he’s the reason I found you and Kasia in the first place. He risked his life to provide that intel.”

  Brand kept his fists balled tightly. “I see. What do you intend to do?” Because Ladon could swing either way. He did whatever got him results.

  “I’m still working that out.”

  Would slamming his fist through the rock wall show too much emotion? After helping Ladon take the throne, and after what he’d just done, he was to be payment to someone else? Because he was rogue, that made him expendable? Even to the one man of only two on the planet he trusted?

  Fuck that. Fury pumped through Brand’s blood in heated bursts of adrenaline.

  He’d take Kasia and—

  “I’m not going to turn you over,” Ladon assured. “Which is why I’m telling you this.”

  Anger continued to churn in him, though the heat turned down to a slow simmer. Brand narrowed his eyes as he worked to steady his breathing. “No?”

  “No. I’ll figure out another way to help my informant. I would never give you up.”

  “Yeah?” The words came out as a low growl.

  Ladon crossed the room and clapped a hand on Brand’s shoulder. “I trust you more than any man in my clan. That makes you my brother.”

  Brand hissed as heat manifested in his arm, feeling as though a red-hot poker were being jammed through the flesh between his thumb and forefinger. He held up his hand to discover an insignia as the intricate lines that represented the house of Ormarr formed, glowing white hot.

  Trying to keep things light, he glanced at his friend. “Ironic that my new king has an old Norse last name. There must be some gold dragon in you somewhere down the line.”

  Ladon shook his head at that.

  The glow on Brand’s hand faded, leaving the black design etched into his skin for all to see. After almost five hundred years as a rogue, abandoned by his people, Brand Astarot had a clan. Only now, unlike the day he’d been born, the mark on his hand did not match the one on his neck.

  XI

  They sure treat a phoenix well around this place.

  Kasia had been escorted to a private room. The cave system housed deep within the mountain of Ben Nevis, where the Blue Clan lived, turned out to be a massive home for all the dragons, with suites built into the rock like a honeycomb network. Soft white lights, which gave the appearance of natural sunlight, originated from a balcony window she had yet to explore and lined the ceiling.

  Built and designed into the natural caverns, her favorite part was the matching en suite bathroom that boasted a spa tub, large enough to swim laps in, sunk into the floor, lit from below like her own private pool.

  After a long soak in the tub and changing into the clothing provided to her, she felt a million times better. Granted, the clothes they gave her were also frillier than her typical jeans and tank top. The most casual outfit she’d found in the closet involved slim fitting black capris slacks with silver embroidery along the hem and pockets, and a deep blue cap-sleeved silk blouse that displayed way more cleavage than she was strictly comfortable with. At least she’d found a pair of silver ballet flats among the collection of stilettos. No way was she torturing her feet with those contraptions.

  She’d picked up a book from a pile that had been thoughtfully provided, but mostly to kill time until something else happened.

  The sharp rap of someone knocking on her door disturbed the serene silence of her cave bedroom. Kasia gratefully hopped up to answer it.

  No peep hole in the door. That seemed like a bad idea.

  “Who is it?” she called through the heavy wooden door.

  “Brand.”

  Finally. When he hadn’t shown up while she was with the healer, or when she was brought to her room, she’d figured he was doing a download with the king, or Ladon as she’d been asked to call the man in line to be her mate.

  But then she’d waited hours.

  His room was next door, she’d been told, and Brand was the only person she knew here. While she’d been treated with kindness, she could use seeing a familiar face. With a smile, she swung the door open, doing her best to ignore the eager hopping of her heart. Harder to ignore when Brand ran his gaze over her and suddenly everywhere he’d touched her last night flared to strung-out life. Meanwhile, the sight of him in a new pair of jeans and black T-shirt was doing wicked things to her, heating her up.

  “You combed your hair.” He’d also pulled the sides back. She’d never been into longer hair on men, but she found Brand’s worked for him. She grinned and resisted the urge to reach out and muss it back up.

  Tawny eyes, a predator’s eyes, stared back at her, but with a distance that hadn’t been there before now.

  Growing more irritated with his attitude, Kasia proceeded to have a conversation with herself, filling in Brand’s part for him.

  “What do you think of your new digs, Kasia?” she rumbled in a deep bass, her attempt at a Brand impersonation. She even pretended to have bulging muscles, lifting up her arms to pretend to stand like him.

  In a falsetto, she answered her own question. “This place is intimidating and ostentatious, Brand, but I think I can look past that. Thanks for asking.”

  Another round of Brand in fake low voice. “I only want you to be happy, Kasia.”

  The real Brand half sighed, half growled. “Kasia.”

  She ignored him, continuing her part in squeaky voice. “Awwww. You’re such a teddy bear, Boo-boo.”

  “Boo-boo?”

  The disgust lacing his voice had Kasia bursting out laughing. “My imaginary Brand likes it when I call him Boo-boo.”


  Brand’s jaw clenched. “No, he wouldn’t.”

  “You don’t get to dictate what my imaginary Brand likes or doesn’t like. I’ve known him longer than you.”

  “But—” Brand cut off his own argument and shook his head. “I can’t believe we’re talking about this.”

  Kasia shrugged. “You brought it up. I was having a lovely conversation with you.”

  “What’s your point?” Brand finally grumbled.

  “My point is, whatever your problem is, don’t take it out on me.”

  “I don’t have a problem.” But he wouldn’t look her in the eye.

  “Right. That’s why you’ve been doing your best impression of a silent stone statue since we got here.”

  “What do you want from me?” he asked in an even tone that implied some sort of patience, as though she was acting like a petulant teen and he was the righteous, put-upon male. Granted, antagonizing him on purpose sort of fell under the bratty teenager heading, but she just couldn’t stand the distance he’d put between them.

  It made her feel lost and small. She was fully aware how crazy and slightly pathetic that sounded, even in her head. “You promised to help me settle in.”

  Crap, I’m turning into a whiner.

  He gave his head a single shake. “No. I promised not to dump you here, and I’m not.”

  A need to break that distance surged through her. Before he could say anything, Kasia stepped in to him, kissing those harsh lips, tasting him again.

  Whoa.

  She gasped and yanked back as a flutter of pain tinged the pleasure piercing her core. She stared at Brand with wide eyes.

  Not now, dammit. She couldn’t have a vision now.

  “Are you—?”

  Her sight blacked out, and she nodded quickly.

  “I’ll go get Ladon.”

  She shook her head. “I haven’t explained my visions to him yet. It would be…” Wrong. “I need to figure out if I trust him first.”

 

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