He shot her a menacing look, keeping a firm hand on her shoulder as he turned to look at the doors. She made an attempt to stand, but he held her in place, grabbing the hilt of his dagger in such a way that she was able to clearly see the movement.
“Ri Bleddyn,” a warrior called from the doorway, “they’re here.”
“Good,” Bleddyn replied. “Send them in and have the servants dismissed from the kitchen.”
The door closed and Bleddyn stepped back, finally releasing his grip on her. He still held his dagger and continued to loom over her. A few moments later, the warrior re-entered the room and disappeared into the kitchen.
“You are going to greet our visitors,” Bleddyn said, “and then you are going to go upstairs to our chambers, where you will stay for the remainder of the night. Unless you wish to make me resort to violence.”
Ciara swallowed hard. Now isn’t the time to strike out, she told herself as she slowly got to her feet. Not while you have no real means of defending yourself. She would be certain to remedy that situation later. The hall doors swung open and confusion filled her as she stared at the two men striding into the room. The visitors weren’t from the island. That much was clear.
The taller of the two was dressed in sleek, richly colored fabrics, his dark red shirt and black pants having an undeniable sheen to them even in the low light. His polished black boots gleamed and his dark blue waistcoat had elaborate embroidery and beadwork that she knew would have cost a small fortune. The shorter, more robust man at his side was dressed in more muted tones of green and grey, his clothing oddly foreign to her eyes. As the men drew closer, she vaguely recognized the finely dressed man as one of the three young princes of Kelnore, though she wasn’t certain which one. Her gaze flitted between the two strangers while she struggled to make sense of their arrival.
“Regulus,” Bleddyn said with a respectful nod toward the prince. “I trust your travels were well?”
“Long, but well enough,” Regulus replied, pausing to gesture to the burly man beside him. “Kyros Pecus of Dineum. Kyros, this is the Ri of Seabhac that you have heard so much of.”
The two men exchanged a greeting before Bleddyn turned to her. “My soon-to-be wife, Ciara of Arth.”
Regulus gave her a wicked smile. The look on his face as his gaze traveled up and down her body made her want to vomit. And Bleddyn had the gall to complain about Niall, she thought, defiantly refusing to meet Regulus’ gaze. Bleddyn was showing her off to the men before her like she was some prized plaything, nothing more.
“Ciara,” Bleddyn said. “Regulus and I have business to discuss. I wouldn’t want to bore you with it. Why don’t you go ahead upstairs?”
He framed it as a request, but the tone of his voice made it clear that it was a command. She gave him a frigid smile before fixing her gaze on the hall doors and brushing past Regulus and Kyros. A warrior opened the doors for her and she slipped out into the empty entryway. She glanced around, relieved to see no more unexpected guests in sight.
There were a few more warriors standing outside the front doors and their gazes lingered on her, but she dutifully made her way to the staircase. Her pulse raced as she climbed the steps, but Bleddyn was a fool if he thought she was simply going to go to bed like an obedient child. He was up to something and whatever it was, she doubted any of it was good.
Once she reached the top of the steps, she didn’t turn right to head for their chambers. Instead, she made a left, breaking into a jog as she made her way down the hallway. For once, she was grateful for the ridiculous slippers she always wore of late, the soft soles silencing her steps. She didn’t stop until she reached a small door tucked away into the wall at the end of a long hallway. The door opened up to a narrow flight of stairs that would lead her down into a cellar below the kitchen. She’d found it only a week ago, not thinking much of her discovery then but immensely grateful for it now.
She stumbled her way down the dark staircase. When she reached the bottom, she unlatched the door that led into the cellar. The large space was damp and cold, making her shiver as she crept through it, trying not to soil her gown. Stores of vegetables and salted meats along with barrels of wine and ale lined the walls and she was thankful for the one lone lantern that had been left lit.
There were no noises from the kitchen, but she waited a few moments in the doorway regardless, making certain that she was alone. The fire burned low and cast long shadows across the walls as she crept through the space to the door that led into the Great Hall. The room that had been full of activity not even an hour ago was eerily silent and she caught herself holding her breath. Once at the door, she pressed her ear against it, straining to hear the men inside, but their voices were too low. She grimaced, about to pull away, when she heard Regulus’ shouts.
“For the gods’ sakes, be patient, Kyros!” he yelled as she pressed her ear back to the door. “You can’t just slit a powerful man’s throat and expect no consequences.”
“My brother departs in three days,” Bleddyn replied, his voice raised as well and laced with fury. “That should be more than enough time to come up with something convincing. I want him dead before he leaves these walls.”
Ciara covered her mouth to muffle her gasp as she staggered away from the door. Her stomach roiled and she briefly closed her eyes, barely able to believe what she had just heard. Bleddyn is going to kill Niall, and Regulus is here to help him do it. Though there had, at times, been tension between Pern Coen and Kelnore, the two countries had been at peace for years. What in the blazes was the Kelnorian prince thinking, agreeing to commit such an atrocity? Unless his father doesn’t know?
She gulped down her breath, trying to stay quiet. None of it made any sense. And who in the blazes was his companion from Dineum? She shook her head, swallowing hard. She needed to get upstairs before Bleddyn found her missing. There would be time to puzzle over the bizarre scenario once she was safely in bed.
She raced out of the kitchen, her chest tight as she dashed across the cellar and back up the dark stairway. When she reached the top, the hallway was empty and she forced herself to keep to a brisk walk in spite of the prickle she felt in her scalp. Once she reached their chambers, she pushed the door open, sagging against it as soon as she was inside. The room was empty, with no sign of Bleddyn.
Hurrying over to her bedside table, she opened the drawer and rummaged through it. It was here, she thought, her mouth growing dry the longer she looked. I know it was here. Unless he or someone else already found it somehow. When she latched onto the dagger from Niall, her panic ceased. Pulling out the blade, she placed it on top in the drawer before pushing it closed.
Sinking down onto the bed, she hung her head. She felt like she didn’t even know the man she had heard in the Great Hall mere moments ago. Part of her wondered if she had ever really known him. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to suppress a shudder. Bleddyn’s actions had moved beyond justifications and excuses. His approval was something she was no longer so certain she wanted to earn. She couldn’t stay. She wouldn’t. And she would be damned if she would sit back and let him kill his own brother. Whatever Niall was, whatever he had become, he didn’t deserve to be murdered in cold blood.
Chapter 12
Willing to Give
“You know, cousin,” Regulus said, toying with his dagger while the blade sat on the table in front of him. “I’m beginning to think that this sorceress of yours is little more than a myth.”
It was well past dinner, into early morning. Bleddyn had sent Ciara up to bed hours ago, and he hoped his earlier threats had been effective. The last thing he needed was her causing trouble. Bleddyn, along with Regulus and Kyros, awaited the arrival of Fiadh in the Great Hall and the two Kelnorian men had grown more and more impatient by the hour.
Bleddyn glared at Regulus, but the other man only continued to languidly fidget with his weapon. “She’ll be here soon.”
Kyros snorted, but a dark look from Regulus wiped the smug loo
k off the mainlander’s face. At least Regulus is able to keep the mercenaries under control, Bleddyn thought as he studied the men sitting across from him at the long table. He’d had some leeriness entrusting his youngest cousin with his coin and enlisting him to hire the men from the mainland, but Regulus knew what his reward was if they were successful—and what the cost would be if they failed. Regulus was the youngest son of Emperor Alekos and as such had only been granted a minor landholding in the province of Primun, one that paled in comparison to what his older brothers had received. In return for his aid, Bleddyn had promised Regulus a large tract of land in Blaidd, and he was confident that Regulus’ greed would ensure his loyalty. Regulus glanced at the door, muttering something that sounded distinctly like a curse, and Bleddyn’s stomach tightened.
Where are you? he asked Fiadh, using the mental link to reach out to her. It had been a strange thing to get used to at first, but he had grown more accustomed to it as the days had passed.
Keep your Kelnorian kin on his leash and tell him to be patient, Fiadh replied, her tone sharp.
Bleddyn didn’t even bother with a snappy retort. It was Fiadh. She would arrive when she was ready and he’d learned that sometimes it was simply easier, not to mention safer, to let her have her way.
“The stories always spoke of Wynne’s beauty,” Regulus said with a crafty smile. “Tell me, is this Fiadh of yours the striking image of a goddess?”
Bleddyn only barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Hardly. But what she lacks in beauty, she makes up for in sheer power.”
“I can hardly wait to see it.”
There was an edge to Regulus’ tone, one that Bleddyn felt certain his cousin meant to use to intimidate him, but it didn’t have the desired effect. He could easily put Regulus in his place. When they were boys, Regulus had held a sort of hero worship for Bleddyn, always tagging along with him and his oldest Kelnorian cousin, Fabian. Regulus had always been trying to prove that he was as tough as the older boys—not that he had ever succeeded.
Bleddyn itched for more wine as the silence in the room grew thicker, but he needed a clear head to deal with Fiadh. He couldn’t afford to muddle it with drink. The fire in the hall began to burn lower while they waited, allowing a chill to enter the air. Regulus and Kyros talked among themselves and Bleddyn’s thoughts drifted to Ciara as he stared into the flickering embers. He blamed Niall for her sudden outbursts. His brother had always brought out her worst attributes. But soon, he won’t be able to influence her any longer, he reminded himself. She’ll have no choice but to rely on me.
He was saved from further musings by the opening of the hall doors. Bleddyn got to his feet but Regulus and Kyros merely looked on with interest as Fiadh strode into the room. She was dressed in her usual muted tones of grey and black, with two of her ravens perched on her shoulders, one on each side. Three warriors of Seabhac trailed behind her, and Bleddyn noticed the way Regulus’ eyes lit with interest the more he watched her. She strode across the room, her sharp brown eyes seeming to take in everything at once. Through their blood bond, Bleddyn could feel the darkness that swirled around her. It was both alluring and intoxicating. The more he was around it, the more he found himself drawn to it, needing it.
“Fiadh,” Bleddyn said, pulling out a chair and motioning for her to join them. “I trust your journey was well?”
“Slow,” she replied as she took the seat. “No thanks to your insisted escorts.”
Bleddyn struggled to ignore the jab, silently wondering if she had taken her time on purpose.
He looks as reliable as a young stag in rutting season, Fiadh said, her lips curled into a sneer as she fixed her gaze on Regulus.
He’s loyal, Bleddyn replied, and easily manipulated.
“Regulus,” Bleddyn said, clearing his throat. “Fiadh of Seabhac. Fiadh, my cousin, Prince Regulus of Kelnore and his… associate, Kyros of Dineum.”
“A pleasure.” Regulus leaned back in his chair with an arrogant smile. “I’ve heard so much of Bleddyn’s sorceress.”
Fiadh stiffened and Bleddyn shot him a warning look.
“I belong to no one but Cigfran,” Fiadh said, narrowing her eyes. “Let’s make certain that is perfectly clear.”
In typical Regulus fashion, he maintained his smirk and simply shrugged. “My apologies. I’m afraid I made assumptions based on Bleddyn’s exotic northern beauty who he managed to capture and keep within these walls. I’d hoped he might share her, but he seems as possessive as always. More’s the pity.” He paused, waving a hand in Fiadh’s direction. “Well, let’s see it then.”
Fiadh’s mouth down turned. “See what?”
“Your power,” Regulus answered, crossing his arms. “What else do you think we’re sitting here giving up sleep for?”
Fiadh narrowed her eyes at the prince before cutting Bleddyn a sidelong glance, her cheeks flushing.
I am not some plaything that is here for your amusement, she snarled. Or theirs.
Humor them once and I will make certain that you never have to do so again, Bleddyn replied, fighting the urge to hold his breath. Regulus was often volatile if he didn’t get his way, but so was Fiadh. They’re mainlanders. They’re fascinated by the supernatural. They just want a good show.
A good show? Fiadh’s disgusted scoff echoed in Bleddyn’s thoughts. I will not let you or them treat me as if I am some freak, here for your entertainment.
“Well?” Regulus drummed his fingers on the table with an impatient huff. “Do you have some mystical power or not?”
Fiadh’s face contorted with anger and she pinned her gaze on Regulus, her eyes dark with rage. Regulus stiffened, his face growing pale as his eyes widened. Silence filled the room, the darkness that swirled around Fiadh growing, and Regulus swallowed hard.
Moments later, she leaned back in her seat with a cold smile. “Is that enough for you, Your Highness?”
Regulus’ chest rose and fell rapidly. “Yes,” he mumbled as he averted his gaze.
I will make certain that you hardly have to deal with him, Bleddyn told Fiadh as she fixed Regulus with a murderous scowl.
You had better, she replied. Or he will find himself losing all chances of siring a dynasty.
“Regulus and Kyros have twenty men hiding outside the castle and forty more moving up from the south,” Bleddyn said, eager to turn the topic of conversation to more pressing matters. “Once Niall is dead, taking over Castle Clogwyn should be a swift and easy task.”
“Conquering is always easy.” Fiadh stroked one of her birds, the raven nuzzling into her touch. “Maintaining control is another matter entirely.”
Regulus shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he watched Fiadh’s interaction with her bird.
“My men are up to the task,” Kyros said, lifting his chin.
Fiadh raised a brow, leveling him with a disbelieving, almost bored look, but she stayed silent.
“The assassination will take place two days from now,” Bleddyn continued. “For now, we’ll continue on as we have been and use the feast in honor of Niall tomorrow to lull him into further complacency. It’s late; best if we all rest while we can.”
At Bleddyn’s command, two of his warriors escorted Regulus and Kyros out of the Hall and to their rooms but Fiadh lingered, waving her own escort off. She waited until they were alone to speak, once again stroking one of her birds.
“You will have more trouble than just your brother,” Fiadh said as soon as the doors swung shut. “You have a traitor among you. Another one who bears the mark of the Wolf.”
Bleddyn frowned. “One of Niall’s warriors? Or his advisor?”
“Cigfran has not yet made that clear.” Fiadh paused, furrowing her brow. “But you cannot trust Blodwen’s niece either. She’s too unstable in her loyalties.”
Bleddyn stiffened, clenching his jaw. He would have her, Niall be damned. She was meant to be his. Niall hardly deserved such a beauty. Bleddyn hadn’t worked so hard to achieve that end to giv
e up so easily.
“She will yield to me,” he told Fiadh, squaring his shoulders.
“She is not a wise choice for your Banrion.”
His muscles tensed and he raised his brows. “Are you offering?”
“Don’t flatter yourself,” Fiadh sneered. “It’s hardly becoming. It is a warning, one that you would do wise to heed considering that it comes from something more powerful than even I.”
“Ciara will do as she is told. I will see to that, one way or another.”
“Be sure that you do. I would hate for a woman as weak and pathetic as her to be your downfall,” Fiadh said, getting to her feet. “I assume that you’ve arranged the private quarters that I requested?”
“Yes,” he said, motioning to the lone warrior standing by the doors. “You won’t be disturbed.”
“Then I will see you in two days.”
She turned and walked away. Though her back was to him, he still heard her parting words as clearly as if she were standing beside him. You’ll need more than luck to pull this off, she said. Forces rise against you even now. Ask yourself how much you will be willing to give before this is all over.
He didn’t respond, watching her step through the doors with the warrior and disappear from view. He glanced down at the black mark on his palm, running his thumb across it. It had been difficult to hide from others, Ciara in particular. Sooner or later, he would have to answer her questions regarding it and she would learn the truth. If she was going to take her place at his side, she would have to understand that she had to put away the life she knew and the lies that she had been raised with.
He traced the mark again, feeling a palatable whiff of power as he did so. How much was he willing to give, indeed.
Chapter 13
Loyalty of the Wolf
Ciara had no idea what time it was when Bleddyn finally came to bed, only that he slipped in beside her at some point in the middle of the night. Knowing the truth about the man lying next to her made sleep impossible, and she was exhausted by the time the first hints of dawn broke out over the mountains. Bleddyn rose early, claiming some sort of urgent business with Regulus. Ciara smiled demurely as he dressed for the day, telling him that she understood. He appeared particularly pleased with her compliance.
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