Kirill opened his mouth to answer and then hesitated. He stopped walking and turned to her.
“What?” Ulyssa asked.
“I’m not sure you’re to be trusted,” he answered truthfully.
“Why? Because I refuse to sleep with you again?” she demanded.
“Ah, so you haven’t changed your mind. I thought maybe since you were once more speaking to me...” His dark eyes searched hers before he shrugged.
She would never tell him, but the same thing had been on her mind since she declared she wouldn’t submit to him. The Var king was hot-blooded though he hid it well. It would take no time at all before he caved to her. Her smile turned into a full grin. Her plan was working a lot faster than she thought it would. “There’s no reason not to be civil. So, what’s going on with you and the Draig? What do you have against them?”
Kirill hesitated. “In truth, I have nothing against them. The battle I fight now was my father’s war.”
Kirill didn’t know what made him confess such a thing, but he did feel better having said it aloud. He looked at Ulyssa. Her wide blue eyes stared back at him, not judging, not assuming. It was rare that anyone looked at him in such a way. He realized she was the only person he could say such a thing to, for she was the only one around him who had no vested interest in peace or war.
“Listen, I’ve been meaning to tell you something.” Ulyssa’s hands wound nervously together before she let them fall again to her sides. “I didn’t mean to insult your father.”
Kirill merely nodded, and she said no more about it. Kirill walked slightly behind her, enjoying the soft sway of her hips as she moved. He was almost positive she did it to tantalize him. He could smell her desire for him, teasing his senses almost as badly as her nearness did. It was a wicked game they played, but he found he much enjoyed their battle of wills. He wouldn’t give in first, couldn’t give in, but it’d be a grand thing to watch her try to make him.
He reached out to touch her shoulder and pull her to a stop next to him. “Are you sure you wouldn’t change your mind? We aren’t due at Reid’s for a while longer.”
Ulyssa turned to him, not needing to be told what he meant. She stayed strong. Artfully manipulating her cleavage as she again walked, she asked, “Are you ready to beg for it, Your Highness?”
“You know I won’t.” As he spoke, his gaze went predictably to her chest.
“Then, I’m afraid I’m famished and wish to get to your brother’s early.” She shot him a brilliant smile, blinking with so much innocence he knew it was a façade.
Ulyssa just smiled.
Kirill’s expression darkened. He watched her from the corner of his eye. Sacred cats! She was beautiful. The black gown hugged her slender frame, pulling tight and low across her breasts. Cross lacing worked up the side of the gown, exposing hints of flesh. The skirt flared around her hips to her knees. On her feet, she wore thigh high boots that disappeared beneath the hem of the skirt. Kirill wanted nothing more than to follow the boots up with his hands. He wasn’t fooled by her play of innocence, and they both knew it. He walked faster. Under his breath, he muttered, “By all that is sacred, you are a stubborn briallen!”
16
Reid’s home was built above ground, in the colossal trees of the forest. The trunks were wider than the old redwoods back on Old Earth. At first, Ulyssa didn’t see it from the forest floor. Kirill led the way in moody silence, only to stop beneath a thick overhang of leaves near a large stone. Pushing the branches aside, he revealed a narrow staircase carved into the boulder and made to look as if they wound around the tree trunk.
“After you,” he said, quietly.
Ulyssa hesitated, looking up around the trunk.
“I assure you, it’s perfectly safe.”
Ulyssa shivered. He stood very close to her back. She could feel his heat, the tickle of his breath on her neck. A momentary wave of lightheadedness passed over her, causing her to sway on her feet.
“Something wrong?” he asked in a tone that had dipped to a low timbre. She felt a hand whisper over her hip, skimming down along the top of her thigh, dangerously near the bottom curve of her backside. The touch was light, but it was enough to remind her how good his hands felt against her flesh. Every nerve lurched to attention.
“No,” she whispered, trying hard to control herself. She stumbled forward, climbing the steps.
They followed the steps around the base of the thick tree, making it half way around until they came to a door carved into the trunk. A small window was fitted into the wood, but Ulyssa couldn’t see through the dark drape that hung over it on the inside. She looked curiously at Kirill.
“Your brother lives in a tree?” She tried to hide her amusement.
Kirill reached from behind her and knocked on the intricately carved entryway.
“The king knocks?” Ulyssa mused, whispering over her shoulder.
Kirill’s face had come close to hers. He didn’t pull away as her mouth turned to his. Leaning slightly closer, so that when he spoke his lips whispered against hers, he commanded, “Behave yourself, Lyssa.”
A roar sounded from the inside followed by laughter. Kirill gave the door a light nudge, and it soundlessly swung open. Ulyssa’s breath caught in her throat. Inside, the tree had been hollowed out, forming polished wood floors with gorgeous natural swirling designs, and walls cut to look like rustic planks. The ceiling, also of wood, spiraled high revealing the home had at least two levels carved into it.
Kirill took her arm and led her up two stairs from the small opening of a front foyer to the main living area. The main level was circular, except along two flat sides were walls remained, and rooms were carved out behind them. An intricate door was carved into one of the flat walls, leading to a bathroom on one side. The other wall had an opening in it with a bar and barstools, revealing a large kitchen behind it.
Light filtered in from outside through little holes in the ceiling, reflecting off a small glass and mirror dome. In the center of the first floor was a comfortable living area adorned with thick, red couches and matching chairs, and throw rugs woven in the same designs popular in the palace.
Ulyssa instantly recognized Falke as he stood up from a chair only to bow to his brother. From the corner of her eye, she saw Kirill wave him down. Falke sat.
“You’ve met Falke. He has command of the guards,” Kirill said, taking her arm and leading her in. Falke again stood and curtly nodded. Ulyssa shot him an impish grin. She had not forgotten her stoic nemesis so easily. “And there on the floor is Quinn.”
Quinn waved lazily and shot her a handsome smile from his place lounging on the floor. He lay on his back, his knee drawn up with a foot leisurely laid across it. A shock of lighter colored hair fell over his bright blue eyes.
“Believe it or not, he’s our ambassador.” Kirill turned to the two men. “Quinn meet Lyssa.”
“Quinn?” Ulyssa whispered to Kirill, a little daunted by the idea of being in a room full of Var princes. “I thought you said we were visiting Reid? How many brothers do you have?”
“Only four,” Kirill said, almost apologetically.
“Our father was a busy man,” Falke added, rising to his father’s defense. “He didn’t have time for breeding.”
Quinn chuckled and sat up. “Ah, don’t mind these barbarian brothers of mine, my lady. They tend to forget that human culture is different than our own. Here it’s considered a low number to have only five sons. Most families have anywhere from twelve to fifteen.”
“There could be more,” Falke defended. “King Attor went many places.”
Quinn grinned but nodded in agreement at the possibility.
“Fifteen?” Ulyssa squeaked. “I think five is more than enough. As it is, I suddenly feel very sorry for your mother.”
Falke and Kirill looked at her, confused.
“You know, having five children. Being pregnant that many times,” she explained.
“We do not have the sam
e mother.” Falke frowned.
“None of you do?” she asked.
“Well, Jarek and Reid were born together in one birth,” Kirill said.
“Twins,” Quinn clarified with an easy smile.
“Oh, right, the harem,” Ulyssa said. She let her eyes turn downward. She’d never be part of such a thing. A husband with hundreds of wives? Wait. What was she thinking? She wouldn’t be one wife to one husband.
“By all that is sacred!” A shout sounded from the kitchen area followed by a roar of anger and a wave of black smoke. “So help me, if you weren’t king...”
The rest of the insult was muffled. Quinn and Kirill laughed. Even the stoic Falke’s lip gave a little twitch though he stayed rigid in his chair.
“Reid,” Kirill hollered. Ulyssa jumped in surprise at the sound and turned to look at him. His serious tone didn’t match his playful features. He winked at her. “That better not be my dinner.”
“I’ll tell...what you...dinner...you...royal pain...” was Reid’s muttered response. There was a loud crash, followed by a series of bangs. Reid stormed from the kitchen holding two drinks.
Prince Reid was dark featured and moved with the steady grace of his brothers. Muscles formed his body, and he carried them proudly as if he expected women to swoon at his feet. Stopping in front of his brother, he blinked in surprise as he openly checked Ulyssa out.
Slowly, he handed the two goblets to Kirill. Then, a devilish grin curling his features, he said, “Welcome, my lady.”
“Back off Reid,” Falke demanded, his voice full of warning. “I can smell your pheromones from here. She’s the king’s woman.”
Reid’s brow rose, and Ulyssa had the distinct impression the look of masculine invitation was meant to aggravate Kirill more than entice her. She felt Kirill stiffen next to her. A hand came possessively to her elbow, and she just couldn’t help herself, as she murmured huskily, “My pleasure, Prince Reid.”
Ulyssa offered her hand to him, her eyes narrowing, daring him to keep it up. Reid pulled back in surprise and hesitated, obviously not expecting her to respond so carelessly to him. He glanced at Kirill and slowly took her hand in his. He held it briefly before letting go. Reid backed away. Though his smile faded, his eyes lit with curious mischief.
Ulyssa turned to give Kirill an innocent smile. His eyes searched her face, and she let nothing show. Her heart sped as she detected a hint of jealousy in his gaze.
“So, I believe there’s one more?” she questioned.
“Jarek is out exploring the galaxies,” Quinn answered behind her back. “We don’t expect him back any time soon.”
Ulyssa broke eye contact to turn to him. Teasingly, she said, “Well, it would appear he’s the lucky one.”
“My lady?” Quinn asked.
“Well, by the smell of it, we’ll be starving tonight.”
Three of the brothers started to laugh, even Falke. Reid rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, very amusing, my lady, very amusing.”
17
The meal Reid prepared was bad. No, it was worse than bad. It was completely inedible. The roast, or what had once been a roast, was charred to resemble a large, black rock. Only too happily did the brothers catapult it off the long balcony carved into the second level of the home. The roast launched, hit a tree and, inflicting more damage to the bark than to itself, plummeted to the forest floor with a resounding thud. Rich, masculine laughter rang over the forest as birds squawked and flew away in protest.
Luckily, Quinn had smuggled a basket from the palace when he came. It was filled with cold meat and a creamy cheese-like dip. Dipping chunks of meat into the cheese, they ate in the living room, lounging in relaxation as they talked. No one treated Ulyssa like an outsider, as they told stories of their childhood growing up in the palace.
Ulyssa found the princes to be very charming, even Falke though he hardly smiled. As she watched him, she saw a more subtle movement to his features, mainly in his steady gaze. He had more emotion than his brothers seemed to give him credit for. Over the course of the evening, she felt guilty for giving him a hard time. From what she could tell, he got enough harassment from his brothers that he didn’t need it from her, too.
“…so Falke was covered in mud from head to toe,” Reid said, laughing hard as he told another of his endless list of boyhood stories. It was obvious he’d been the proud instigator in many of the incidences. “We must have been what…?”
“Fifteen to twenty years,” Quinn supplied.
Hearing Kirill laugh next to her, she peeked from under her lashes at him. His laugh was deep and rich. The mere sound of it gave her chills. It was a Kirill she hadn’t seen at the palace. Here, with his family, he was almost serene.
“Anyway, here’s Falke covered in mud and the Lithorian ambassadors are on their way. Mind you, he was set to be the official greeter when they arrive. The king was very rigid on the point that they must be pleased in every way. Well, while we were dousing Falke in mud, Quinn sneaked into his bedroom to steal all his clothes.” Reid laughed harder. Gasping for breath, he said, “The only thing left for him was a dress Quinn stole from the harem.”
“They believed it was ceremonial garb,” Falke grumbled, trying to keep a stern face. “I had to wear it every year they came for ten years.”
Ulyssa burst with laughter, imagining the stoic Falke in a dress.
“It’s a good thing too, or else they might have stopped trading with us,” Kirill said. “The king would’ve put Falke in the dungeon if that happened.”
“And what do they trade?” Ulyssa asked.
Reid laughed harder. “Chocolate.”
“Chocolate?” Ulyssa repeated in disbelief.
“King Attor had a sweet tooth,” Kirill explained as if it made perfect sense.
Ulyssa hid her frown. A father who would lock up his son for ruining a trade agreement over chocolate? She liked the dead king less and less. How difficult it must’ve been for them, growing up with such an emotionally vacant man as a father. She imagined it would have been worse than her childhood, with no father at all.
Setting her plate on the floor, Ulyssa didn’t think as she leaned back on the couch next to Kirill. She slipped her body naturally by his. She felt his breath catch before his arm moved to drape possessively over her shoulder. His firm body cradled hers naturally to his side, and his fingers glanced over her arm, the tips moving in a light, absentminded caress. He smelled so good. God help her, she wanted him.
“Ah, to be so young again,” Reid laughed.
“This couldn’t have been very long ago,” Ulyssa said, studying the brothers. “You all look hardly thirty.”
They all laughed harder.
“Ah, to be thirty again.” Reid sighed with much drama.
Ulyssa frowned, pulling back to look at Kirill. “If he’s over thirty and you’re the oldest, just how old are you?”
“Ninety-eight.”
Ulyssa’s eyes widened, and she waited for him to say he was joking. “You’re kidding right?”
“Ah, yes, he’s a young king, to be sure,” Falke said. He raised his mug, prompting Reid and Quinn to do the same. “But, he’ll be a great one.”
“Agreed,” Quinn said, toasting.
“Agreed.” Reid raised his glass and nodded.
“The hour grows late. I should get you home,” Kirill said, pushing up from the couch. The statement was said with an intimacy that made Ulyssa nervous. Home. She’d never really had a home before, never really longed for one like the other kids in the orphanage. Going back. That meant a night of trying to keep herself from giving in to her desire for him. Seeing the softer side of Kirill’s life wasn’t helping her resolve, nor was the insight into his father’s ways. It explained much about why he was the way he was.
Ulyssa affected a yawn and stood. Slowly, she nodded. She didn’t like the tenderness that crept into her chest as she took Kirill’s offered arm. With quiet goodbyes, they took their leave.
Quinn si
ghed, as the door shut behind the couple. The three princes sat in silence for a long moment, their faces drawn in concentration. Thoughtfully, the youngest Var prince murmured, “She does something to him. She relaxes him, balances him. It’s almost strange to behold.”
“I noticed it as well,” Reid said, not exactly smiling at the insight, but not frowning either. “It’s almost as if he carries her scent as well. But, how can that be? How can a human woman mark our kind?”
Falke remained quiet. Quinn shrugged, not knowing the answer.
“Did you see the possessiveness in him?” Reid asked. All three turned their serious gazes to the door as if they could still see the couple.
“What do you think it means?” Quinn sighed.
Falke sat forward, bracing his elbows on his knees. His low tone crackled over the tree home. “I think it means, brothers, that our king just might have met his woman. If he’s not careful, he’ll find himself life-mated to a queen.”
18
The forest was dim and cast with shadows in the late hour, yet the suns still provided enough hazy light to see by. Ulyssa kicked idly at the trail with her feet as they walked. She’d dropped Kirill’s arm to go down the front steps and hadn’t touched him since though she desperately wanted to.
“What is it?” Kirill asked, catching her soft eyes on him. His hands were threaded behind his back, and he walked easily by her side.
Ulyssa refused to say what she was thinking because she was too unsure where her thoughts were leading her. So, instead, she asked, “You’re not afraid to walk alone without guards?”
Kirill chuckled. “Should I be?”
“Well, I mean... What if someone sent an assassin after you? Or wanted to kidnap you? Such things happen to royalty all the time. What about the Draig? Are they not a threat to you?” Ulyssa swallowed nervously, refusing to look at him though she felt his eyes studying her intently.
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