by K. M. Shea
Yep, that seals the deal. Whoever is behind the attacks is the one who hired Rigel to kill me. But did he not know when he went looking? That seems unlikely. Maybe he uncovered the organization itself and found out that his previous contractor is part of it so he can’t talk about them, either, now?
Rigel eased himself onto the couch cushion next to me, which made me goggle at him a bit. “I can only say I assumed you wouldn’t care about my comings and goings because I never thought I’d be…important to anybody,” he said.
My heart broke a little at the certainty I saw in his eyes.
“But you are important.” I nudged him a little, knowing that I needed to get this point across to him. “To me, yes, but also to our friends. Chase believed in you—or he wouldn’t have let you come sauntering back.”
“It’s misplaced,” Rigel said.
“It is not,” I scoffed. “I know I’m theatrical about it, but what I tell the other monarchs is true. You’re loyal, I love that we share the same twisted sense of humor, and your willingness to hold me when I’m bawling my eyes out is a huge point-winner.” I tried to judge the expression on his face, but it was pretty blank.
“I could go on,” I continued. “Your fighting skills are top notch, but you’re a secret softie for animals—and no, I won’t believe otherwise because my glooms and shades flock to you for pets and scratches. Not to mention you’re honorable and—”
“I am not honorable,” Rigel said. “I’m an assassin.”
“Were,” I reminded him.
Rigel shrugged, and his shoulder brushed me. “I still would be if you hadn’t changed everything.”
“Now you’re giving me too much credit,” I said.
“I’m not.” Rigel’s voice was crisp and icy.
Surprised, I peered up at him. “What do you mean?”
“You hated what the Night Court was when you arrived here, but you lived in it for only a few months before you began overturning everything,” Rigel said. “I was shaped by the Night Court and the games played there.”
“Yeah…that would be hard.” I slipped my hand into his and leaned into his shoulder, for once not feeling shy because this wasn’t about me or how I felt. It was my attempt to comfort him, even a little.
The muscles on his arms were tight, but when he slipped his fingers through mine, his grip was gentle.
“It was a thirst for political power that ended my family,” he abruptly announced.
I struggled for a moment as I tried to figure out how to react.
I’d been told the rumors that Rigel killed his family—I’d never believed it, because if he did that, why would he become an assassin and try to hide from the Court instead of lording over his coveted title and position?
But given what he just said, I can’t imagine he had the most fun childhood.
“I’m sorry,” I said finally.
Rigel shrugged. “It was their own doing—I could see it was coming.”
I mashed my lips together as I wondered if I dared to ask what I badly wanted to know.
Rigel is…closed off. But I don’t think he’d volunteer this information if he didn’t want me to ask any questions.
I sucked in a breath and hoped for the best. “You don’t have to tell me, but…what happened?”
He waited until I met his gaze, and then he answered. “I killed my brother.”
I stared at him in shock. Why would he—no. Nope.
The lifeless look was back in his eyes, which I suspected meant he was pulling back to see what my reaction would be.
“Self defense?” I guessed.
Fine wrinkles spread across Rigel’s forehead—his version of a frown. “Of course you would only think of the best scenario.”
“I was thinking of the most likely scenario, actually,” I said. “You’ve never reveled in your power as a fae lord, and if you cared about power you wouldn’t have married me with the intention of acting as my judge. You would have married me with the express purpose of killing me and becoming king,” I said. “Plus, I know you. And I know killing anyone you have ties to isn’t something you’d do willingly,” I added.
Rigel looked away. “My brother killed our parents,” he said finally. “Our father molded him to be power hungry and conniving—to be a tool to earn more influence for the family. Unfortunately, Father taught him too well. He didn’t want to wait to inherit the title. He killed them to take it by force.”
Although my heart shivered in my chest, I kept my expression normal. Inside, I cried for Rigel. No wonder he thought my plan to crush Court politics was a silly dream—he’d lived through the worst of what fae society had become.
“My brother was paranoid I’d have the same desire for power and attacked me. But while my brother was groomed as a tool for Court life, our parents had forged me into a weapon of death and destruction. So I killed him.”
“In self defense,” I repeated.
Rigel looked at me out of the corners of his eyes. “I was the better warrior. I didn’t have to kill him.”
“He killed your parents,” I said. “That’s not the actions of a sane person. I doubt he would have stopped coming after you.”
“That’s the conclusion I came to as well,” Rigel said, his voice flat and emotionless. “And it made me realize if my own brother was willing to end my life for power, the rest of the Court would be the same.”
“So you became an assassin,” I said.
“I became feared—a monster whispered of because saying my actual name was too terrifying,” Rigel said.
I clutched his hand tighter as I tried to figure out what to say. Your family turning on you is the worst kind of betrayal there is. There’s nothing I can say that can even touch the misery in that.
Feeling useless, I rested my head on his shoulder—hoping that it was at least a little comforting, because he hadn’t shaken me off yet. “I’m sorry.”
“I did what I had to,” Rigel said. “If I regret anything, it’s that it took me so long to believe in what you were accomplishing.”
“You saw the darkest part of the Court, Rigel,” I said. “It’s not surprising you thought some half fae upstart with a smart mouth and no manners wouldn’t be able to reform the Court that failed you on so many levels. And your family didn’t just fail you, they betrayed you. I can’t imagine the pain that caused.”
“Less than you would think,” Rigel said. “We were never close. I was aware I was going to be a weapon—first for my father and then for my brother if I survived the transfer of titles. I had long suspected my brother would try to have me killed—he just moved faster than I expected.”
There was so much pain, so much darkness wrapped up in those thoughts I almost couldn’t stand it.
How did it ever get this bad? Why were the fae content with this kind of life?
“But that is also why I know, Leila, why our Court has come to love you, and why you have gained the hatred of others,” Rigel continued.
“Huh?” I tried to follow the abrupt shift in topics. “Why?”
“Because you are our hope,” Rigel said. “Hope that we can be better—that we will be safe. Some embrace it—like Verdant—and others are afraid to dream that we won’t have to live in such a hellhole—like Fell—and they react out of a fear that you won’t succeed.”
“That sounds remarkably dreamy coming from you,” I said.
“But you know it to be the truth.”
“Maybe, sort of. I know they’re afraid,” I said. “I saw it at that drugged-up tea party the Paragon threw. Fell didn’t dump the skull monster in the Night Realm because he’s a jerk—even though he is. It was because he was too afraid to call for help, and he hoped I would do something if he made it my problem.”
“You have won Fell over,” Rigel said. “Though he’ll pretend you haven’t because he’s too prideful to admit it.” The corners of his lips curved down, and he studied the library shelf across from us with a deadly intensity. “And occasio
nally he’ll need to be reminded of his place when he covets things that aren’t his.”
I blinked as I mentally reviewed what he said. “I don’t get it?”
Rigel slightly shook his head. “It’s nothing.”
I don’t know about that, but I don’t really care if Fell gets greedy as long as he stops being a giant twerp.
“Thank you for telling me,” I said. “About your family…and everything.”
“I don’t want your pity.”
I laughed. “I could never pity you, Rigel. You’re too awesome.”
“No, you love me, instead.” Rigel wasn’t looking at me when he said it, and based on the slight change in his intonation, I suspected he was asking more than stating.
Does he think I’m going to feel differently about him now?
Feeling bold, I snickered and snuggled into him. “Yep!” I wrapped my arms around his neck and sagged into his chest in what was most likely an unwanted hug.
I was shocked when Rigel wrapped an arm around my waist, holding me in place.
Even if Rigel didn’t love me, with his hand resting on my hip I knew I was important to him, and he wasn’t going to let anyone hurt me. That was why he’d left, after all.
We sat in silence for several minutes, but when I glanced up at Rigel, his midnight blue eyes were dark and pained.
It seems like it’s time for a distraction.
“You know.” I settled in, since it didn’t seem like he was going to dump me anytime soon—and we both probably needed the touch. “I should change your title from consort to king.” The words were out of my mouth before I even realized what I’d said, but they made sense the more I thought about it.
“Why?” Rigel asked, bewildered.
“Because there’s no reason not to. I know you’re not going to kill me for my crown, even if I do make you king. And maybe then you’d be able to help me with the wards and the realm. You’re a full fae. You have a connection to the realm, right?”
“While that is correct, why do I feel like this is more an attempt to foist work off on me?” Rigel asked.
“Nah!” I scoffed. “Nope! No way. Well, maybe a little. Just tiny helpful things,” I said. “Nothing too big.”
“I’m not interested in helping you herd the wretched creatures you call nobles,” Rigel said.
I relaxed, happy that he was entering into the lighter spirit of our conversation. “How rude! I’m being thoughtful for our realm!”
“I can see the stack of paperwork sitting on your desk from here. You’re not fooling me,” Rigel said.
I laughed and patted his chest. “I know, I know. Don’t worry—I won’t push any of that on you. Except I’m dead serious about the realm. But there’s been a big shift between us since the day we got married. We were on much more equal terms then.”
Rigel snorted. “That was the most one-sided bargain I’ve ever been a part of. I can’t believe you can even pretend to call it equal.”
I ignored him and continued. “You were more like a judge back then—and you’d strike if I screwed up. But that’s not the case anymore. It’s time to hit the reset button and even things out again.”
“Concerned about equal trade, are you?” Rigel asked. He sounded mild enough, but there was something to his tone that made me think he didn’t mean that as a good thing. “It seems you know fae lore and the history of fae bargains well.”
“No, this has nothing to do with fae bargains or deals or whatever. Because I love you, I want us to be equal partners in this. I want you to be my king. I trust you, and I know you have my back—and I want everyone to know that.”
Rigel blinked. “I don’t deserve your love.”
I lifted my head off his chest so I could look up at him. “I’ve told you in a dozen different ways why I love you. Obviously you’re wrong about the deserving bit.”
“But my past—”
“Is your past. You’ve chosen differently, now, or I wouldn’t ask you to be king. I don’t care about who you’ve been, Rigel. Just who you are now.”
His eyes were back to midnight, but it was different from when we’d laughed together after sledding. I couldn’t call it warm—like his eyes had been then—because it was a lot closer to…blazing.
I wonder why?
The thought belatedly crossed my mind as Rigel leaned closer.
My heart hammered in my chest and I gaped at him with the intelligence of a goldfish as he slipped the hand that wasn’t around my waist up my neck. He didn’t look away as his fingers cradled the back of my head, even though he was so close I could feel the heat radiating off him.
And then he kissed me.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Leila
I’d wondered previously if Rigel would ever kiss me, and what it would be like. I’d thought it would be coolness and shadows.
What I got was an inferno, held carefully in check by Rigel’s self-discipline.
His lips were hot and solid against mine, but not needy, and when he tilted my head, it was with careful gentleness.
The kiss was consuming in the way it wrapped around me and devoured the burdens I’d been carrying on my shoulders. My exhaustion faded, and all I felt was Rigel, who filled my every sense and made my entire body tingle.
I knew, as he deepened the kiss, that it was a promise—of safety. He wasn’t going to abandon me, he was here, and he’d eliminate anyone who tried to harm me.
It was everything I’d thought I’d never have, and more than I’d ever dreamed.
Abruptly, Rigel pulled back, giving me space to breathe.
He stared at me for several painfully hopeful moments where my heart twisted in my chest as I blinked, more than a little addled.
“I’ll become your king,” he said. “For a specific purpose.”
Huh?
I’d forgotten what we were even talking about with that mind blowing kiss. It took several moments to jump start my brain and get over the prickling in my chest that Rigel was apparently capable of kissing me like that and then moving on to the next topic of conversation as if it was nothing.
That’s because it wouldn’t have meant as much to him. But he’s doing the best he can—I have to be patient, and not take this personally. Though if he makes this a habit we’re going to have a little talk.
I coughed and shook my head a little as I tried to clear it. “And what specific purpose would motivate you to take up the title of king?” I asked.
Rigel narrowed his eyes. “Because there are some events that involve the fae monarchs, but ban any consorts or other staff.”
Huh? What the heck is his problem? Does he feel left out or something?
I furrowed my brow as I tried to puzzle that nugget through. “Why would that make you change your mind? You’ve skipped stuff in the past.”
“Because your safety is my priority,” Rigel said. “And the attacks on you are increasing.”
I picked apart his words, because they seemed veiled. Not like Rigel was hiding something from me, but more like he was picking somewhat weird words on purpose.
Is he trying to skirt around the geas? But why would any of the more-boring-than-watching-paint-dry monarch socials or ceremonies have anything to do with his geas? Unless the person who hired him was a monarch after all?
“I think you just gave me a clue, didn’t you?” I asked.
Rigel stared at me, but his jaw tightened as he clenched his teeth.
“That’s a yes.” I rubbed my tired eyes. “I promise I’ll rethink your words tomorrow with Chase and Linus. The only thing I can think of now is that a monarch hired you, but we cleared everyone of suspicion—including Fell, and he’s shadier than a palm tree.”
I watched Rigel carefully, but either the geas wasn’t letting him talk—likely—or my guess was off by miles—even more likely.
“I’ll call the Paragon tomorrow, too. He might have more luck in figuring out the clue?” I asked.
No response again.
<
br /> Rats. Well, at least I have another addition in my “rules to live by”—never agree to a geas!
“With everyone sticking our heads together—at a reasonable hour of the day—I’m sure we’ll be able to pinpoint your clue. I wanted to talk to the Paragon anyway about the Night Realm,” I said. “Especially now that you’ve agreed to be king. He might know a way we can use your connection to the realm…” I trailed off.
“You need to sleep,” Rigel decided.
I still hadn’t shifted out of his arms, and was pretty comfy where I was. But as much as I would have loved to stay there, Rigel was right.
I need to be with it tomorrow so I can dig through whatever little clues Rigel has given me. Mooning over him isn’t going to get me anywhere tonight, anyway.
I reluctantly slid away from Rigel and stood, fixing my bathrobe and retying the sash around my waist.
Kevin and Steve stretched their hind legs and then their front legs, then padded their way to the door, their shadowy black fur blending in with the dark spots of my office.
Whiskers yawned, revealing a mouth full of yellowed teeth, and brushed against my leg as we followed the shades. After I opened the door, I paused in the doorway and looked back at Rigel, who was still sitting in the couch. “Are you coming with?”
“Is that an invitation to join you in your bedroom?” He stood up, and the light in his eyes said he was pleased with his joke.
I blushed bright red. “Do you have to phrase it like that?”
“I do, considering you’re acting shy after we—a married couple—just kissed, and you’re now blushing at the thought of sleeping together when you have frequently used me as a nightly security blanket before.”
I groaned. “Do you have to say that out loud like that?”
Rigel tilted his head and studied me. “Yes.”
I scowled at him. “You’re terrible!”
“I’m merely pointing out the inconsistencies in the way you act.” Rigel ghosted past Muffin and me, gliding into the hallway.
