Reed nudged him in the ribs. "You sound upset."
Seb laughed. "Yes, I shouldn't be, but..."
"No one likes to learn they have limits," Clay replied with a ready grin.
They quieted as Kiarra neared. Her presence felt like a tug in Seb's chest, as if a string connected them. When she moved farther from him, the connection pulled tighter, pricking him uncomfortably. When she drew closer to him, it loosened and spread warmth through his torso. A smile found its way to his face, and he looked up at her figure in the doorway. She was a vision. Confidence and a sense of something more profound, perhaps purpose, replaced her usual veneer of shyness and insecurity.
Her newfound poise made her more beautiful, impossible as it seemed. The tight, golden dress she wore complimented her coloring perfectly. Her eyes shone brighter with a tinge of slate and her skin glowed. Her unbound hair cast light about the room in prismatic rays as if spun with gold and precious jewels. Her spine was straight, a contented smile on her face as she regarded their comfortable positions.
Seb warred with the desire to lead her directly back to bed or wrap her in blankets and never release her from the room. He'd never considered himself religious, but he could see himself worshiping Kiarra. The depth of emotion which assaulted him was frightening in its intensity.
"How is the bond treating everyone?" she asked in a businesslike manner as she sat at the table, scraping together some semblance of a meal from the leftover scraps.
"We were just discussing that," Reed replied. The expression of tenderness on his brother's face filled Seb with joy. "Our skills appear to be enhanced already. I can translate Mishokian now, Seb carries maps in his head, Ian can render himself invisible, Clay can understand the mathematical secrets of the universe, and Mason can single-handedly fight off an army."
Kiarra gaped at Reed until his lips twitched. "You're joking."
"He's exaggerating a bit, Lass, but not joking. Our House traits have experienced immense improvements. How about you?"
Kiarra frowned but not with sadness. She peered within herself in contemplation and shrugged. "Not sure yet. I can feel you all, here." She placed a hand on her cleavage and Seb restrained the urge to spout dirty innuendos. He had ideas for those remarkable breasts. He physically shook his head to remove the images which flickered through his mind. He was usually horny, but bonding with her had increased his libido even further. He hoped the other men weren't experiencing the same or they'd surely overwhelm her.
"I am more anchored, less indecisive. A sense of well-being graces me and I feel amazing, energetic, and strong. My body is not complaining after our activities last night." Her lips curved upward in remembered satisfaction, and Seb's chest swelled with pride. He hadn't been the only one to satisfy her, but he had contributed to her pleasure.
Finished with her meal, Kiarra rose from the table and plopped herself between Seb and Reed. The couch they claimed was the smaller one, but she didn't mind being squeezed tightly between them. She held her hand out, and Reed passed her the book as if he knew exactly what she wanted without asking.
Her scent teased Seb, her damp hair breathing flowers upon him. Her body pressed against one side of him felt like bliss. He put an arm around her shoulder, and she leaned into him as she squinted at the text. When she touched him, the light within his chest reached out and merged with hers, forming them into one soul.
"Nope," she concluded with a tinkling laugh. "Whatever this says, it is still gibberish to me." She passed the book back to Reed and laid a hand on his thigh. He captured it, gently stroking the skin between her forefinger and thumb. Her shiver of pleasure echoed through Seb's body. She tapped her other finger against her bottom lip. "Grandmother's journal implied that the men of Baldony became angry because all the power passed to the woman. That is obviously not the case." She shrugged. "No matter. It is better this way. The power makes more sense divided among the five of you. So, what is the plan?"
Her newfound confidence gifted her in every aspect. She asked questions unreservedly and made accurate assumptions. Seb could easily picture her ruling as Queen. He had never doubted her, but the royal command now gracing her character reinforced his beliefs.
"This first." Mason handed her the cup Ian had brewed.
She wrinkled her nose as she sniffed the dark tea. "These are the herbs my Mum brought?" At their nod, she took a tentative sip. "I, uh, don't need to drink five doses of this, do I?" She grinned and the men echoed her amusement.
"One should cover it, Lass." Satisfied she was protected, Ian sat back in his chair, his long legs stretched out before him. "I spoke to my Advisor this morning. I asked him for an audience with Rowan, without the King knowing. He implied he should be able to arrange a secret meeting."
Kiarra's brows furrowed. "You don't trust the King?"
Mason answered. He rested his elbows on his knees and sat forward. Muscles bulged in his chest and arms. "We're not certain. His ancestor killed your grandmother because of the feat we have just accomplished - the power exchange. Ian thinks his allegiance to the Saints and the Fates might swing the scales in our favor, but we're uncertain. It might be better to not take the chance."
"Hmm," Kiarra hummed thoughtfully. "My brother might lend some insight. Failing that, I propose seeking an audience with Queen Alyssa before we decide on his participation or speculate as to his position."
"An excellent idea," Clay responded approvingly. "She is a fair and just woman. She is devoted to her husband, but that is expected because they are Soul Matched. I believe speaking with her will give you some insight into the King’s frame of mind."
Ian nodded, agreeing with the plan. "I also suggest we take Advisor Carson into our confidences regarding the journal. I have always trusted him. He fostered me after I ran from Abilon. He raised me far better than my own father through my teenage years. Not only that, but I suspect he knows much more about the situation than he is letting on. I wanted to ask your permission before I speak with him."
"If you trust him, Ian, I will as well. I would like to be present when you have that conversation, though."
Ian nodded. He opened his mouth to say something else, but a quick knock on the door forestalled him. Mason stood, his sword in his right hand, and Seb's muscles tensed. Did the Soldier expect trouble?
"It's a palace courier," Kiarra stated absently. Five pairs of eyes, all different colors, turned to her.
"How do you know?" Mason asked.
Kiarra colored and frowned, suggesting the observation had been automatic. "I - I have no idea, actually. I just do. He simply carries a message; he doesn't mean us harm."
Ian and Mason stared at Kiarra a heartbeat longer, but Mason didn't relinquish his weapon as they made their way to the door. Seb leaned forward, curious if Kiarra's knowledge was correct. Sure enough, the door opened upon a red-faced courier, barely older than a boy. He swallowed hard at Mason's massive form holding an unsheathed sword but looked toward Ian. "Master Ian, the Advisor has granted your request. You are to meet in, uh, secure room number 47 in one hour."
Ian nodded and tossed the boy a coin from his pocket. The kid stammered a thank you and ran off down the hall, the guards' eyes following him curiously. The door closed again and Ian addressed the room. "That would be the request to speak with Rowan."
Kiarra smiled; the sunny authenticity of her happiness and the twinkle of her eyes brightened the entire room. "Oh, I'm so happy!" She squeaked and bounced up, launching herself into Ian's arms for a quick hug. "Thank you."
Ian hugged her back, breathing in the scent of her hair. "Twas Mason who suggested the meeting first, Lass; I only spoke with my Advisor." Kiarra kissed him on the cheek and thanked him again anyway, before throwing herself at Mason for a similar embrace. Mason's forbidding demeanor thawed at her touch and the gentle giant emerged from beneath the rough exterior.
"We shouldn't all go," Reed commented, "it will be too obvious."
"Aye. Seb, you're a friend of Rowan's
. You'll accompany Kiarra and me to the meeting."
Seb nodded to Ian, his own smile lighting his face. He couldn't wait to visit his old unit-mate. He hadn't even had a chance to say goodbye. He imagined Rowan with milky white eyes and shuddered internally. But changed eyes aside, Rowan was still the same man he'd spent many days and nights with.
Kiarra disengaged herself from Mason's arms, but he retained hold of her wrist. He led her to a side table covered with several weapons. The impressive assortment consisted of daggers, paper thin sharp blades, and short swords. Seb was unsure where or when the soldier had procured them.
"Choose one or two, Kiarra. You should select something you can easily hide on your person whether in a dress or breeches."
Kiarra trailed her fingers over the selection, finally settling on a medium length dagger with a plain onyx handle. She held the blade with familiarity, although Seb remembered she hadn't received bladed weapons training. Mason noticed the same. A smile tugged at his lips. "Does holding it feel different?"
Kiarra shrugged, studying the weapon intently. "Kind of. Hmmm." Her shining eyes surveyed the room and focused on a particularly ugly picture of a historical figure Seb couldn't remember the name of. She hefted the blade in her hand, stepped back from Mason, and let the dagger fly. Seb jumped, and Reed made a choked sound next to him. The sharp tip pierced the center of the man's broad forehead. They all gaped, their jaws slack.
Mason chuckled, his dimples deepening. "You are changed as well," he whispered into her neck, his arms nearly doubling around her waist as Ian retrieved the blade.
"Maybe. More likely, I'll never be able to do that again," Kiarra responded with a grin. "I don't feel as if I have any magical abilities. Flashes of knowledge burst into my head or I experience hunches I must act upon. It's odd."
Ian handed her the dagger, and she bent over to slide the weapon into her boot. The action caused her bodice to gape, revealing her lush breasts to Seb and Reed. Her ass thrust into Mason's groin. The men groaned in tandem and her lip curled. Little minx, she knew exactly what she was doing. Seb could barely resist innocent Kiarra; he didn't think he would survive Kiarra, the temptress.
"That might be too far away to reach if you're attacked," Clay murmured. His green eyes glittered with similar lust.
Kiarra frowned. "Where else would I keep anything?" She slid her hands down her breasts and waist, and Seb's cock hardened again as he followed their path with his eyes. While he wasn't complaining, her clothes fit too tightly to hide weapons. It would take too long to retrieve a blade from under her skirt.
Clay pursed his lips. "A lot of the women in the brothel kept a weapon in their hair, something they could access quickly even if they were completely naked."
"Brilliant idea," Ian agreed, nodding approvingly.
Mason echoed his agreement. "I'll search for something similar. I'm certain I shall be able to find something."
Kiarra nodded. "Excellent. Any word on the Crown Prince?"
Ian shook his head. "Nothing yet. By all accounts, he's due to arrive tomorrow."
Kiarra's shoulders slumped, fear appearing on her face for the first time since she'd woken. Seb's hands clenched. He wanted to hold her and soothe her worries. She recognized the longing on his face or along the bond because she returned to her place between them. She took his and Reed's hands and held them both in her lap.
"We will deal with him when we need to," she said resolutely. Her butt wiggled on the slightly hard sofa. Seb considered the furniture fabulously made. The oak arms and legs shone with glossy varnish, and the upholstery remained tight and soft. Kiarra didn't agree. She sighed. "I miss my couch."
Seb chuckled, remembering the monster in Kiarra's living room which had tried to eat him and Reed on their first visit to her unit. He preferred this one.
Chapter 20
Kiarra
I bounced on my toes as we made our way toward my brother. His transformation to Soul Tender had only happened a little over a week ago, but neither of our lives was the same. I hoped he would provide a sense of normality and coax me back to earth after my unbelievable night. The euphoria had faded only a fraction; I still flew above the clouds as we strolled through the corridors. I barely noticed the servants or any others who stared. With Ian and Seb flanking me, I felt nearly invincible. The other three lights within my chest grew smaller and dimmer, but remained whole and comforting, like lighthouses leading wayward sailors home.
The palace buzzed, a hum of energy simmering through the halls, and I questioned whether the mood could be attributed to the Crown Prince’s imminent arrival. Servants appeared anxious, and a heavy cloud hung over the younger women. I mentally reminded myself to speak with Mason. My newfound intuition of the kingdom's citizens warned me the Prince was abusing several female staff members. I would not permit those activities to continue while I lived under the same roof. Before bonding with my Soul Matches, I would have never considered interfering. Now, however, I couldn’t abide doing nothing. The burning conviction and confidence in my character would require an adjustment period.
The room we entered appeared to be no different than any other in the mostly unused corridor. Ian had explained the palace numbering system before we'd left our quarters. Only a privileged few were privy to the room designations. Seb memorized the numbers quickly, and after a couple covert questions to Ian, he knew exactly where each room was situated. He attributed the understanding to our connection, and satisfaction poured from him. I intended to address his lingering sadness when we could finagle time alone. He hid his emotions well, but the forging of the bond ensured I was always aware of it.
The small room housed several couches, older than the ones in my suite, but not as comfortable as the one in my family unit. The door shut behind us and I frowned. There didn't appear to be another entrance to the room, and no one had occupied the corridor. The Advisor couldn't lead a Soul Tender through the halls without causing an uproar. Both Seb and Ian displayed patient, knowing expressions, so I waited. A gentle snick, nearly inaudible, sounded from nearby. I clutched Ian's arm, but he settled me, his energy calm.
One of the ornate tapestries hanging on the wall swung to the side, and the Information Exchange Advisor stepped from behind it. I craned my neck to see the dark passageway behind the tapestry and smiled. Secret passageways were just what I would have expected in the palace. A familiar figure trailed behind the Advisor. I launched myself into his arms. He felt so solid and real. His presence created another anchor in my new upside-down world.
"Ah Kee-Kee," Rowan murmured into my hair, "you've been busy."
I blushed. Surely he didn't refer to my nighttime escapades? He chuckled, and I studied his sightless eyes curiously. "Can you see me?"
"No, but I can feel you if that makes sense. I can perceive your energy; it has blossomed since the last time we spoke. You have bonded with your matches."
I pulled back and memorized the lines of Rowan's face. He appeared to be growing out his beard. Other than his facial hair and the whitened eyes, he was still the brother I loved, the one who had helped me through every uncertain moment in my life. He and Mum always believed in me no matter how many messes I made. "You knew all along, didn't you?"
Rowan shrugged his broad shoulders, a smile tugging at his lips. "You and your five matches were my first vision." He lifted his face from mine. "Seb, I've missed you too. When I learned you were one of Kee's matches, I was remarkably pleased."
Seb's face displayed momentary shock which quickly faded to a welcome grin. As soon as I stepped aside, he embraced Rowan. I could sense their happiness at being reunited.
Advisor Carson and Ian stood to the side, watching. Actually, the Advisor's gaze was pinned on me. His expression remained impassive. I couldn't read his emotions, but he studied me as if I were a curious specimen he had stumbled upon. His slate gray eyes were intelligent, his balding head home to only a few strands of silvering hair. Though he wasn't a tall or broad man, he cut an
imposing figure. His aura exuded a sense of knowledge and power, and some part of my soul recognized him. The discovery unnerved me.
"And you are Kiarra's spy," Rowan commented, his sightless gaze fixing on Ian. The men clasped hands. Rowan didn't have difficulty finding Ian's hand.
"How can you tell?" I queried, wrinkling my nose. "You recognize Seb's and my energy because you are familiar with us, but how can you tell he's another of my matches? How can you tell he is the spy?"
Rowan grinned, the boyish tilt of his lips recalling so many fond memories. My heart ached. I wished Mum could join us and I dreaded him returning to his dreary tower. "Because his energy is also here," he poked a finger into my chest, just below the hollow of my throat where the soul lights resided. "You are a reflection of each other. As for how I know he is a spy," Rowan shrugged. "Advisor Carson told me he was a colleague." His sensible answer provoked a grin.
"A reflection, huh?" Ian asked with interest.
I clasped Rowan's hand and led him to one of the couches, though he could probably maneuver on his own. The question of whether he saw the energy of inanimate objects was answered when he stubbed a toe into the couch. I cringed and apologized for not being a better guide.
"No worries, Kee. You didn't realize I can only sense people. I'm growing quite accustomed to bumping into things actually. I've considered asking for a pair of reinforced boots to save my toes." His smile flashed again and I giggled. I had missed him so.
Seb claimed my other side and Advisor Carson reclined on the sofa across from us. Ian remained behind the Advisor's couch, his arms folded over his chest. His expression suggested intense contemplation.
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