by May Dawson
“In secret,” he said.
I turned to Duncan. “And were you and I…?”
He snorted.
“I guess I’ll rely on Azrael, then,” I said dryly. “Our past can remain a secret you’d desperately like to forget. No matter how much it matters now.”
“I wish I could fill in more details,” Azrael said. “You always kept your own secrets.”
I raked my hair back from my face with my free hand and heaved a sigh. The manacles attached to my other wrist clattered.
“I was surprised by what you did to Raile,” Azrael said, which I hadn’t expected.
“Why’s that?” I asked, my voice sharp.
“You two seemed to genuinely like each other. You knew each other from the time you were kids. You were furious that Herrick was trying to force you into marriage, but Raile....” Azrael trailed off.
“I liked Raile? That doesn’t sound like me.” I frowned, trying to picture it. “Anyway, how could I like someone who tried to force me into marrying him?”
“I thought the two of you used to have some kind of plot,” Azrael said. “I tried to get you to tell me, but you never trusted me…not completely. You said your secrets with Raile didn’t belong to you alone, so you couldn’t share with me.”
I buried my face in my hands. “Great. Fan-fucking-tastic. This secret-keeping shit is for the goblins. I would literally kill someone for a timeline, or possibly for the chance to go back in time and slap myself.”
When I glanced up, the three of them were staring at me; Azrael looked concerned, but Tiron was smiling.
“Past Alisa really fucked this up, huh?” I asked.
Duncan snorted at that. “I loved what you did to Raile.”
“What did I do to Raile?”
“At the engagement ceremony, you enchanted a hobgoblin to look just like you. It must have taken an incredible amount of power to control the hobgoblin through the ceremony from your hiding spot behind the thrones.” There was a glow of pride in Azrael’s eyes.
“What did that accomplish, besides royally pissing off Raile?” I asked.
“Oaths don’t work here like they do dirtside, where you all break them so lightly,” Azrael said. “Magic binds us. Make a promise, and you better keep it.”
“Better yet, don’t make any promises,” Tiron murmured.
“So Raile was really engaged then to the hobgoblin?” I asked.
Azrael nodded. “You released it back into the wild. Raile was bound to it—he couldn’t marry another.”
“Not that he would,” Duncan said in amusement. “He’s always been mad about you.”
I scoffed. “He just seems mad to me.”
Of course, he claimed that I was the reason.
Duncan yawned. “As fun as it is to recall the string of broken hearts Alisa’s left behind—”
“Is there anyone else I should know about?” I demanded, suddenly concerned.
“Just the three of us,” Azrael said, and the frank acknowledgement of how much I’d hurt him made my chest ache.
But all I said was, “At least I never did anything to Tiron.”
He smiled to himself, and I asked, “I didn’t do anything to you, did I?”
“No, princess. We never met.” Tiron was the only one who said princess sweetly; at least I didn’t have a history with him. “Sadly for me. Everyone else knew you before, and all I have are the stories.”
Duncan snorted at that, and even Az couldn’t hide the flicker of amusement across his face before he rubbed his hand across his temples as if Tiron’s sweet nature gave him a headache.
“Personally, I’m thankful to have one person in this world I haven’t pissed off. The stories are probably bad enough.”
The conversation turned to how we might be able to escape in the middle of the sea, but eventually Tiron leaned over while Duncan and Az were talking and whispered, “Their stories aren’t all bad. As much as they might pretend they are.”
“Oh?” My brows arched, and I would’ve liked to pursue that line of thought more. What else had Azrael and Duncan said about our past? But Tiron just nodded, since Duncan was staring hard at him now.
There was a footfall outside, then a guard opened the door. A second stood behind him, his sword gripped in his hand.
“Where are we?” Azrael asked. “Are we almost back to the summer court?”
“Don’t talk to him,” the guard in the hallway said harshly. “Get the girl.”
Raile wanted to see me? I should have the chance, then, to see how close we were to the coast. We needed that information to formulate an escape plan. Any chance to get one of us unchained and out of this floating dungeon was a good thing.
I winked at the guys when the guards had unchained me. The guard barely rested his hand on my shoulder, and he was very polite.
“Trust me,” I mouthed at the guys, before they led me out.
Duncan groaned behind me. “I thought we were going to die in the spring court, but now we’re really going to die.”
His optimism always underwhelmed me.
Chapter Twenty-Five
When I walked into the lavish captain’s quarters, one of the guards carried the keys to Raile and knelt.
Raile was sitting in a cushioned chair, his legs thrown over one side, drinking from a rather oversized crystal goblet. He took the keys from the guard absently and waved them off. He didn’t speak until the guards had left us there, closing the doors quietly behind them.
Then he said, “There you are, Alisa. How are you finding your quarters?”
His voice was over-the-top dramatic.
“Are you drunk?” I asked.
He huffed a laugh. “Why? Do you want to judge me or join me?”
“Both?” I suggested.
“Very well then.” He straightened to pour me a glass.
When he walked over to me, he towered above me, reminding me of how he’d leaned in to whisper to me above deck.
He’d taken off his jacket; his undershirt clung to his broad shoulders and chiseled chest, revealing the width of his biceps. The salty scent of his body washed over me, and I pressed my lips together tightly, exhaling. I did not need to dwell on the fact that Raile smelled delicious when the man was toxic underneath.
Our fingers briefly overlapped when I took the glass from him. “You and I should play a drinking game,” I suggested, “and see if I can catch up with you.”
“Oh?” His brows arched. “I’ve never known you to drink to the point of drunkenness, Alisa, it was always my primary concern about our long-term compatibility. Are you trying to get me drunk for a more convenient escape?”
I scoffed at that. “You’d still have all your guards and sailors…”
“They aren’t the ones who can stop you.” He looked at me fondly, as if he was thinking of caressing my face, but he didn’t touch me. Wise choice. “You and I were always a more even match.”
The arrogant bastard.
“You have me at a disadvantage since I don’t remember anything about our past,” I admitted. “I hoped…”
He laughed, suddenly turning around and loping back toward the chairs. He gestured at the table between the two chairs, where fruit, cheese and bread waited alongside the wine. “Come eat.”
“Something besides that deplorable fish stew you serve in the dungeon?”
“I ate that same deplorable stew for supper, as did your brother.” His tone was mild. “I always eat the same meal as my sailors.”
He regarded me steadily and asked, “Are you still a bit of a snob, Alisa? I thought your time dirtside might have cured you of that. Stars know, there’s little to be snobby about there.”
“I’m not a snob.”
He rolled his eyes, but said, “I don’t want to fight with you.”
“You don’t have to fight with me. You have me imprisoned in your dungeon, remember? It appears you’ve won.” For now.
“Mm.” He tilted his head to one side, studying
me. “I wonder what Faer would have done to you and your boys without witnesses.”
His words took me aback. “Am I supposed to think I’m chained in your dungeon as proof of your friendship?”
He laughed at that. “No, Alisa. I don’t want you to think that you or I have ever been…or ever will be… friends.”
He shoved his hands into his pockets, and the motion revealed the keys that hung on the ring from his belt.
“What do you want from me, then?”
He lightly kicked the chair across from him, then threw himself into his own chair again. “I want the pleasure of your sparkling company. And I want you to listen, for once.”
“Fine.” I took my seat and crossed my legs, leaning against the arm of the chair so I could keep my eyes on the sea king. “I’m all yours for the evening. And I apologize for my offensive comment about your fabulous fish stew. My compliments to the chef. I am so grateful for the opportunity to savor what is apparently both your most-fragrant and favorite food.”
He gave me a slow smile that was wicked and predatorial and no less handsome for all that.
“Maybe you could fill in the gaps for me,” I suggested, smiling at him over my wine. “Perhaps you could even tell me why you are so obsessed.”
He clearly hated it when I needled him about his obsession with me, which made bringing up that obsession my new hobby.
He leaned forward suddenly, setting the glass down. His eyes were an intense shade, the same color as the ocean, and even though there was a table between us, it didn’t feel like enough room.
“It’s not my favorite food,” he said, “but you’ll get to know our cuisine better when you join me in the undersea. You know very few land-walking Fae ever visit?”
“I can’t imagine why. They must really be missing out on the dining opportunities.”
“Generally speaking, we don’t want your kind.” He ran his finger idly around the glass, and I wished he’d sit back; he wasn’t invading my personal space, exactly, but something about him left me feeling warm and restless and awkward.
“But I’m welcome in the undersea? I’d still love to know why I’m so special.” Did Faer hold something over him that made him so determined? Would he be able to claim some part of my magic or power?
“The first time I met you, you almost drowned.” He finally leaned back, taking his drink with him, and took a long sip before he looked at me over the rim and added, “I’ve always thought you really should.”
“Oh?” My heart was pounding, but my voice came out cool. “So you plan to murder me?”
“No.” He took another long drink and said, “Even without your memories, I would think you know better than that. You used to have good intuition.”
“If I had good intuition, I think I might’ve realized someone was going to—” I broke off, because I was still in the habit of speaking as if someone else had stolen my memories. But there was no one else to blame. I finished, “Steal my kingdom.”
He had a keen look in his eyes, and before he could press me on how I’d stumbled, I added, “You think I should trust you.”
“Yes.”
“You’ve been trying to force me into marrying you. That doesn’t make you a very likable character in my book.”
“You and I were united against Herrick, once before.”
He said it so casually, but his words hung in the air like icicles.
“Prove it.” My voice came out harder than I’d meant. Why the hell should I trust him? He knew I had no memories; I was an easy target.
“Oh yes, wait one second while I find my secret decoder ring that we used to pass each other messages…” He brushed one long-fingered hand over his jacket as if he was searching his pockets, then shrugged. “For all your faults and all mine, neither of us are fools, Alisa. We didn’t exactly leave a trail.”
“I don’t believe you, Raile,” I said, “and I don’t trust you.”
“Good thing I don’t need your trust.” He hoisted his glass as if he were toasting to me. “I don’t even need you to like me. And if you tell Faer about this conversation, I’ll tell him it was step one in a plan to win your trust, then humiliate you. And I will.”
He flashed me a cool smile.
No one I’d ever met before in my life made me feel the kind of simmering rage that burned in my chest when I stared at Raile. Duncan was grouchy, but straightforward, and his heart was loyal and true no matter how much he glowered at the people he loved. He was unbearable, but at least I hoped one day I might be in his good graces again.
Raile made it clear that he thought he was the smartest person in the room, and the rest of us were here for his amusement.
“You are not only vile, but you are incredibly annoying,” I told him.
“You only think you dislike me because we are so very much alike,” he said.
I laughed. “Flatter yourself, go on. And I don’t think I dislike you.”
“Oh?” He tilted his head to one side, studying me with glittering eyes. “Is that why you stare at me like you’re fucking me with your eyes, even as you’re spitting venom from that beautiful mouth?”
Part of me knew I should pretend I did like him so I could get close enough to steal his keys.
But the male just drove me mad.
“I don’t think you’re very good at reading me,” I said.
His lips quirked at one corner. “Mm.”
It was the smallest sound, but somehow he managed to fit entire paragraphs of masculine condescension in it. I should have played along all this time; I should kiss him so I could get the keys.
But I just desperately wanted to stab him. I glanced around the room, looking for a weapon. I had a feeling Raile did know me well enough to remove all things stabby before having his guards invite me for a visit, but a girl can dream.
Not a pointy item in sight. I sighed inside; kissing it was, then.
Now how to make a kiss seem natural at all?
“Tell me about how we partnered against Herrick,” I said. “I thought you hated me. After the hobgoblin incident.”
He laughed—and there was something genuine and unreserved in it that surprised me. I turned to him, but his face was half in shadows in the dim light of the lanterns hanging from the ceiling of the cabin, and I wasn’t sure if there was anything so genuine in his face. Maybe it had been my mind playing tricks on me.
Because there was no denying my wayward body seemed to feel something when I was close to Raile.
“Let me lay it all out clearly for you,” he said, amusement in his voice. “Your father wanted you to marry me so Faer would take the throne, and he would have an alliance with the sea. With the way the north has been rumbling, Herrick wanted to ensure the sea passage would be blocked.”
He went on, “You never had any intention of marrying just one male when a singular marriage would block your ascendance to the throne. You loved Faer, but not in a oh you go ahead and take the crown, brother kind of way. You’ve always loved power and glory a bit more than anyone besides yourself.”
“Somehow I’m having a hard time trusting this narrative.”
“I’ve never bothered to lie to you,” he assured me. “Once you returned from the academy, you wanted to find a way to marry all of us.”
“All of you?” My brows rose. If Azrael or Duncan knew about that, they would have told me—wouldn’t they?
He shrugged. “You’ve never been one to accept anything less than what you desired. And you desired multiple males. I however have never been particularly interested in sharing, so it was no big loss for me when Herrick sped up the timeline…”
“You decided to go along with it.”
“We would have worked something out. If you truly desired those other males, I suppose I would have given in—I’ve always wanted to give you your whims. And you and I together would have been unstoppable—far more powerful than Herrick and Faer.” He waved his hand. “Instead, you convinced me to pledge my troth
to a goblin. Wicked, clever girl.”
He sounded affectionate enough.
“Ever since then, of course, I’ve been determined to punish you for your misdeeds. But I hope eventually you’ll come to love me anyway.”
You’re a monster. The words were on the tip of my tongue.
Instead, I said, “If there was ever anything between us, I’ll know it when you kiss me.”
“Oh?” His brows arched, and he quirked a finger in my direction. “Then come here and claim that kiss, Alisa.”
It was awkward to cross the distance between us. But when I straddled his lap, it didn’t feel that awkward at all.
Despite his perpetual cold self-assurance, I could’ve sworn I saw the breath stutter in his chest when I pressed against him. I ran my hands up his chest to his shoulders, then leaned forward and brushed my lips tentatively against the corner of his lips.
He slid a hand across my lower back, sliding just above the waistband of my pants. He didn’t touch bare skin—it was no more intimate than if we’d been dancing—but I felt his fingers splayed across my back even through my shirt. His touch felt hot, as if he might brand me.
He turned his face into mine and claimed my lips with his.
Raile was an expert kisser, his lips coaxing mine open. The tips of our tongues danced together, and a ripple of wayward desire ran through my body; I didn’t want to stop kissing Raile. His lips were as soft as his mouth was firm, and there was a flicker of memory that teased at the edge of my mind, as if, were I to kiss him long enough, I’d remember another moment like this one, with the fire dancing across our faces and our bodies pressed together.
I ran my fingers down his rock hard abs, feeling his muscle contract under my touch. Part of me wanted to delve lower, to tease my fingertips over his thighs and down to the erection I could feel straining against my thigh.
Then I slipped the keys off his belt, my fingers as deft as any street thief. I didn’t know where a princess had honed those skills, but they sure as hell had come in handy as a Hunter.
When I nibbled his lower lip, he raised his head, claiming my lips fiercely. The two of us traded heated kisses as I slid the key into my own pocket. His tongue teased against mine, one hand rising to cup my cheek.
