by Kali Argent
Sion couldn’t speak for everyone, but he’d been thinking along those lines. He tried to remind himself that Elder Meadowlark had led a very, very long life, and he’d seen things Sion couldn’t even fathom. Old, jaded, and set in his ways, the elder refused to see reason, and he made life hell for those around him.
But things were changing. A stirring in the people of Xenthian, a spark that couldn’t be contained. The elder could change with them, or he could perish, and frankly, Sion didn’t care which. When the Dreamweaver had crash landed on the beaches of Sommervail, all he’d cared about was finding a way off the planet. Neither he nor Ivy had expected to find their soulmates. They hadn’t set out to galvanize the populace into the current century.
The longer he stayed, the more Xenons he met, the more he wanted to help. They’d been manipulated for too long, even if they hadn’t known it. They deserved the truth, and they deserved to find happiness, wherever that may be. He’d been resistant to the idea of fate, soulmates, and even Rya herself, but even in the beginning, a small part of him had realized he fought a losing battle.
Clutching Rya against him, Sion closed his eyes and breathed in her warm scent. In short time, she’d become his everything, and he couldn’t even remember what life had been like without her, let alone picture a future without her in it. Everyone deserved a chance at a future, the future they wanted, not one chosen for them by a group of archaic, narrow-minded fools.
He hadn’t set out to start a revolution, but he’d damn sure see it through.
CHAPTER EIGHT
“Thank you all for meeting with us.”
Ivy stood in the center of the library, dressed in a knee-length, long-sleeved dress that looked more like an oversized blouse. At her feet, her pet, a piglet she’d named Hamlet, bounced and squeaked, rubbing his head against her ankles every few seconds.
Sion rolled his eyes at the little monster.
The bekshin had been considered a delicacy on Xenthian—up until Ivy had used her new powers as Vasera to declare them a protected species. One minute, they’d been dinner, the next, Ivy was giving them away as pets to anyone she could corner. Tiny bovine with short snouts, spotted fur, and two tails, the pigs were fairly adorable. Still, Sion had been extremely grateful when Rya had politely refused to take one of Hamlet’s brothers or sisters home with her.
Ignoring the bekshin for the moment, Ivy spoke to those gathered, waving her hands around in animated motions that caused the hem of her dress to slide up her thighs. Normally, Sion wouldn’t notice such a thing, but he could barely contain his laughter each time it happened and Kai growled.
“Ivy, dove, come sit.” The king patted the back of Ivy’s favorite, squashy chair near the window. “Please,” he added when she glared at him.
Sion sat on the overstuffed sofa situated between two of the towering bookshelves, Rya tucked protectively against his side. She seemed in relatively good spirits given the circumstances, though a brilliant bruise in deep hues of blue and purple had blossomed across her left jaw. Each time he saw it, he wanted to kill the bastard who’d given it to her all over again. Worse, every time he asked her if she needed anything—food, water, ice, a nap—Rya smiled, touched his cheek, and gently refused.
It drove him mad.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked again, earning him a quiet giggle.
“I’m perfectly fine.” Rya tucked a flyaway strand of hair behind her ear and cuddle closer to his side. “It’s just a bruise, my darling. I’ve had worse.”
He didn’t want to think about “worse.” For the second time since he’d arrived on Xenthian, he’d been overpowered, locked away, and someone he cared about had been hurt because of it. He hadn’t been there to protect Ivy from Wyn Nightstar, and he’d allowed himself to be conned away from Rya, leaving her open to an attack. Granted, she’d handled herself well, and had he not distracted her, she might have walked away untouched.
He’d been called away to escort Ivy to the library because Kai supposedly had a meeting with Elders Meadowlark, Ashgrove, and Blue. In a hurry to get back to Rya, he’d let his guard down, and as a result, he hadn’t even made it to Ivy’s quarters before being bashed in the back of the head and magically sealed into a supply closet in the east corridor. Thankfully, his attacker hadn’t taken the time to remove his transponder.
It damaged his pride to have to use the device to call for help, but the cavalry had responded quickly, freeing Sion from his makeshift prison. Much to her displeasure, Ivy had been secured in a sealed room with every manner of protection Elder Blue could summon. Not knowing who else to trust, Kai had left Fawkes and his own attendant, Lorcan, to stand guard over his mate.
“…ironic that Elder Meadowlark requested a meeting when that was the excuse used to lure Sion away in the first place,” Ivy was saying when he finally dragged himself out of his own head.
“I disagree.” Standing apart from the group, Jericho Sundale leaned his back against the wall and folded his arms across his chest. “I don’t think it’s ironic or a coincidence.”
Sion had no problem following the train of thought. “It was poor timing.”
The Vasere nodded. “Kai was meant to be in that meeting.”
It had been amusing to see the look of pure rage on Elder Meadowlark’s face when Kai had refused to speak with him. The elder couldn’t know what had transpired, though. He’d only use is against them as evidence that the Court should remain in a position of power. Of course, no one else could know about the incident, either. Not sentries, citadel staff, and especially not their guests from other Isles.
Sion didn’t know what they’d done with the body of the imposter, and honestly, he didn’t care. By the time he’d returned from tending to Rya’s injuries and changing into a fresh uniform, his clone had disappeared, and the library had been scrubbed clean. The only thing that truly concerned Sion was that no one seemed to recognize the male. At least, no one in their immediate circle.
Elder Blue had foregone the meeting to deal with Elder Meadowlark, a task from which no one had attempted to dissuade him. Sion didn’t know exactly how he felt about Torren Blue, but he knew he liked him a hell of a lot more than he did Tak Meadowlark. If proven trustworthy, Torren could be a powerful ally, but Sion wasn’t prepared to take him at face value just yet.
“…have to consider the possibility,” Tira finished, looking around the room for confirmation, or maybe validation.
Damn, he really needed to pay attention.
“I admit it’s suspicious that Finn chose not to attend this meeting,” Kai said, his brow marred with deep creases, “but that doesn’t mean he had anything to do with the attack, either here or at the summit.”
Ah, Finn Silveroak, Vasere of the Northern Isle. The male was a self-important dick with a giant chip on his shoulder. However, Sion agreed that as much as they might wish it so, disliking the guy didn’t make him guilty.
“Where are the Snowdens?” Sion asked, only then realizing there was no representative from the Southern Isle in attendance.
“They left this morning,” Rya answered, her tone quiet, subdued. “They’re taking Lasha’s body back to their island for a proper burial.”
Sitting on the edge of his seat, Garrik leaned forward, his elbows resting atop his knees, and his hands dangling between his legs. “So, what do we know?”
Everyone turned to look at Rya.
“Oh, well…” Straightening, she clasped her hands together in her lap and stared down at them, her nose wrinkling adorably as she thought. “Sion received a message that he needed to escort Ivy to the library, and he left. I wanted to speak with Fawkes, so Tira tried to contact him—”
“And Garrik,” Tira added, glancing toward the other captain. “No response.”
Garrik scowled. “I didn’t receive any communications all morning.”
Tira mirrored his expression. “Come to think of it, neither did I.”
“Someone get in touch with the other
captains,” Kai commanded. “Find out if any of them were able to receive or send communications this morning.”
“Right away.” With a perfunctory bow, Tira hurried out of the library with determined strides.
Once she’d left, the focus of the room returned to Rya.
“What happened next?” her brother urged.
“Well, that male pretending to be Sion came into the library. He looked just like Sion, even the same clothing, and he was…eating bread.” She said that last part as if embarrassed to be including such a trivial detail. “He tried to get me to leave with him, but I wouldn’t go.” Holding her hands out, she splayed her fingers and shrugged. “You know the rest.”
There was one question Sion didn’t have an answer for that he’d been wondering about all morning. “How did you know it wasn’t me?”
Rya worried her bottom lip between her teeth, and her cheeks flamed bright red. “He called me leelan.”
Sion stared back at her blankly. “What?”
“It would mean something like ‘beloved’ to you,” Garrik explained with a derisive snort. “Did he touch you?”
If possible, Rya’s face turned even redder. “Um, he grabbed me.” She twisted her fingers together in violent, agitated movements. “And he, uh, he kissed me.”
Sion was on his feet, snarling and growling, his upper lip curled over his fangs.
“Sion!” Kai barked. “Sit down.”
Garrik snorted again. “What are you going to do, kitten? Kill him again?”
Then everyone began talking at once, some trying to calm him, other demanding he sit down and get control of himself. It was all just a barrage of noise, indistinct, barely penetrating the roar of blood in his ears. All except one quiet, faint voice that penetrated through his swelling rage.
“Sion.”
Just his name. No demands. No requests. Just his name.
His anger didn’t ebb entirely, but looking into Rya’s wide, beseeching gaze, he felt his control returning, the reintroduction of rational thinking. Taking several deep breaths to compose himself, he sank back into his seat, his arms automatically going around his mate. As much as he wanted to storm out of the library and lay waste to everyone who had even looked at her wrong, she needed him more, and he’d be what she needed.
“Come here, princess.” He pulled her into his lap, tucking her head under his chin, and just breathed, letting her scent calm him. “I’m okay,” he assured her. “I’m okay.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault.” If he thought about that asshole kissing his female, he’d lose it all over again. “Someone talk. I don’t care about what.”
“You said the guy who attacked you was eating,” Ivy supplied helpfully. “So, he must have been in the kitchens. I’ll go talk to the attendants.”
She even started for the door, but Kai caught her around the waist, halting her progress. “Oh, no, you won’t, dove. You’re staying right here where I can see you.”
“Do I need to remind you that I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself?”
Kai didn’t budge. “You’re not going.”
“I’ll go,” Jericho offered, pushing away from the wall.
Ivy snorted. “You’re a dick,” she said bluntly. “What makes you think they’ll tell you anything.”
“I’m a dick.” Jericho sounded pretty proud of the fact. “They won’t have a choice.” The he simply vanished.
“Kai?”
“It’s okay, dove.” Kai stroked her hair with his free hand while keeping his other arm securely around her waist. “He didn’t mean it.”
Sion wasn’t so sure, and Kai didn’t look at all convinced by his own words. They needed answers, though, and if a little intimidation was what it took to get them, Sion wouldn’t be sorry for it.
“When need to find out who the male was.” Garrik looked down at his hands as he spoke. “At the very least, we should be able to discover which island he calls home.”
“Sion, did you get anything from him?” Ivy tapped the side of her nose. “Do you remember?”
He’d been a little too focused on ending the male to worry about scents or anything else helpful, but he nodded to show he understood and closed his eyes. Rya’s scent had been the strongest, a fragrance he recognized on an instinctual level. There had been something else, though, something unfamiliar.
“Cold,” he muttered. “It wasn’t a smell exactly, or it was, but vague. Like water. But it was cold.” Helix consisted primarily of jungles, and he didn’t have much experience with ice or snow. “Dirt. No, not dirt exactly.” He opened his eyes and twisted his mouth into a grimace. “Stone, like the ones that line the courtyard.”
“The Northern Isle,” Ivy surmised, and she didn’t appear shocked by the revelation. “It’s the only island covered in snow.”
“Not, necessarily,” Garrik interjected. “There are mountains in the northwest region of the Eastern Isle. They’re covered with snow and ice this time of year.”
“What about the prisoners? The sentries who attacked the summit?” Sion hadn’t heard news on them, one way or the other. “Are they talking?”
“No,” Kai growled. “They literally haven’t spoken a word.”
“I’m not even sure if they can,” Ivy added. “It’s strange.”
First Ivy had been nearly kidnapped from the summit, then Rya from the library. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to get to the females, but Sion couldn’t imagine who or why. There was a connection there, something dancing just beyond the fringes of his knowledge, but he couldn’t grasp it. True, they were both Vaseras, rulers of their respective Isles, but his gut told him that wasn’t the commonality they shared.
“Wait.” He kissed Rya’s forehead when she looked up at him. “He was me. I mean, he looked just like me, right? How is that possible? What would he need for that kind of spell?”
Granted, Sion knew very little about magic, but it stood reason that becoming another person, especially another species, would take some serious power.
“It’s a complicated process,” Rya confirmed, “but it would be easier if he had a drop of your blood.”
Absently, Sion touched the back of his head where he’d been hit, wincing at the dried crimson that crusted his hair.
As though reading his mind, Rya shook her head. “No, it would have taken time, planning. He’d likely already assumed your appearance when he attacked you and took your clothes.”
“How much time?”
“A couple of days at least.”
He’d been injured during the attack on the summit. It hadn’t been serious, but Rya had insisted he be treated, and he’d wanted to make her happy. “The medic.” Sion snapped his fingers, trying to recall the female’s name. “Redfern. Something…Lena, Ana, Ashley, Ansley.”
“Paisley,” Ivy supplied, rolling her eyes. “Paisley Redfern.”
Damn, that hadn’t even been on his short list of possibilities. “Whatever. She’s the medic who treated me after the summit.”
“Yeah, but that doesn’t make her guilty.” Pursing her lips, Ivy at least pretended to think about it, but her skeptical expression never changed. “I mean, it could have been anyone. Another medic. A member of the staff who tossed out the soiled bandages.”
“It literally could have been anyone,” Sion admitted, but he didn’t like it. Not having someone to blame meant having no one to fight. “I bled onto the floor.” He’d been working to link the male who’d attacked Rya to some nefarious conspiracy, but maybe it was simpler than that. “The male, the dead one,” he clarified with zero inflection, “he could have lifted my blood from the great hall and carried it out on his own. Hell, maybe this isn’t related to what happened at the summit at all.”
Even as he spoke the words, he knew he didn’t believe them, and judging by the looks he received from those around him, neither did anyone else. The timing was too perfect for it to be coincidence, but he couldn’t see the connection. T
he attack on the summit had been political, or so he’d assumed. A faction of Xenons protesting the introduction of outsiders to their society and raging against the changes happening on their planet, he understood. He didn’t agree, but at least it made sense. The attempted kidnapping and subsequent assault on his mate didn’t fit that pattern, not in any way he could see.
“So, what do we do now?” Garrik asked no one in particular.
Sion didn’t have a solution, but he’d gladly take suggestions. He was damn tired of talking. It accomplished nothing. “We bust heads until those assholes in lockup tells us what they know, because I’m not going to sit around and wait for someone else we care about to be hurt.”
A shadow descended over Kai, and he held tighter to Ivy, his free hand resting protectively on her rounded belly. “I concur.”
A heartbeat later, Tira materialized at Kai’s side, her hair falling in wild waves around her face while her eyes flashed with a dangerous light. “I spoke to all of the captains except for Roe Silveroak. Apparently, he and Finn left for the Northern Isle an hour ago.”
It didn’t surprise Sion, but the news did bump Finn Silveroak to the top of his very short list of suspects. In fact, the Vasere was the only name currently occupying said list, and not just because of his sudden departure. He’d been steadfastly against the dismissal of the Court of Elders, and several of the sentries who’d attacked the summit had been identified as hailing from the Northern Isle.
“We need to speak to the prisoners.” Helping Rya to her feet, Sion stood as well, prepared to beat whatever information he could out of the sentries.
“You can’t.” Tira’s expression turned murderous, and the translucent markings that snaked up her neck and across her left cheek glowed with a faint, blue light. “They’re gone.”
“What the hell do you mean ‘they’re gone?’” The holding cells were warded against transporting and all other manner of magic. “Where were the guards?”
“Doing their jobs!” Tira shot back. “Three of my sentries are dead, and the prisoners are gone.”
Anger burned in his stomach, making his temperature rise and his skin crawl. He needed someone to blame. Something to fight. He couldn’t just chase the wind and hope to catch smoke.
