“Kill her!” someone shouted.
Icarus cursed. “Fools, she’s the one who knows which poisons she used. Tell us, woman, and we may let you live.”
I threw myself down on the deck, sobbing, my torn shirt slipping far enough down that every sailor on that half of the deck could see whatever they wanted. Icarus let out a hiss, and stepped between me and the men. I fought not to roll my eyes.
“Please, I didn’t mean to hurt him like this. I thought I had the antidote, but it’s in my mentor’s cloak on Havira.” I let out a sob. “If we go straight there, I can save him, with no ill effects. I promise, I didn’t mean to hurt him. I was just afraid. He’s so big, and when he said he would try to force me…” I sobbed, trying my best to look equal parts sexy and innocent.
Icarus mumbled, “Great, now the crew looks like they want to tosshimoverboard.”
I hid my smile as the first mate began calling out orders, changing the sails to take us to Havira. Icarus bundled me back below deck, tucking Talon in the bunk along one wall. I made sure Talon’s breathing was steady, sharing his condition with Icarus, who seemed to truly love his brother, no matter how big of an ass the man was.
Finally, we both took a deep breath. “Amazing,” he said. “Now what?”
“Now I have to learn to speak Haviran. Can you teach me?”
“In three days?” He looked skeptical.
“It’s one of my greatest weapons,” I replied saucily. “After poisons, and these.” I grabbed my breasts in my hands, and watched as his eyes went every bit as glassy as the other sailors’ had.
“Mmmhmm,” Icarus agreed. I pulled him to the table, and began to ask him for words.
Three days later, I could converse about simple things, understand quite a bit more, and was glad we would dock on Havira that day. Talon should not have been sleeping quite this deeply for this long.
If I killed Icarus’s brother, and left a kingdom without a beloved ruler, I had a bad feeling even being his sky bond might not save me.
ROYA
Thorn had taught me complex plans have one thing in common: the same ending.
Failure.
So I made my plan as simple as I could. The regent wanted to kill me, but with Altair missing, I wasn’t sure if the island had already voted on a new line of succession or not. Most likely, Gullen had staged a silent coup, and kept knowledge of Altair’s absence from the citizens of Havira.
I had to return in chains, as Talon’s poisoner, while Icarus ingratiated himself to Gullen and we waited for Thorn and the others to arrive. I didn’t doubt for one minute they would; I had complete faith in him to come to my aid. If I was honest, I was confident all three of them would find me in time and help overthrow Gullen’s men.
I had to make certain Talon didn’t wake before then, though. Gullen wouldn’t kill me, I reasoned, if I was still engaged to Talon, which I technically was. Although Branton the Brute, once he recovered from his food poisoning, seemed focused on making sure I never made it to the mating ceremony. His hatred shone through in every glance, and he gripped the handle of his belt knife so hard his sausage-sized fingers went pale.
I shivered, his gaze on me now as I was marched in chains up the pier toward Gullen. He stood on the end, surrounded by guards, and dressed in gaudy gold and purple robes, an expression of smug satisfaction on his weaselly face at seeing me bound. Looking at him made my stomach churn.
At least, I thought that was why my gut was roiling. It had been doing that more and more often, cramping in the middle of the days while I worked with Icarus on my Haviran. A small voice inside whispered that I knew better, that I knew what this was, but I couldn’t listen to it.
I couldn’t think about my Omega nature now, when so many lives—including my own—were at stake.
Icarus greeted Gullen as if they were old friends, but I could see the tension in his back. He wore his usual short cape over his wings, and kept them folded, but Gullen’s guards seemed fascinated by the shapes that moved under the cloth. I remembered how those wings had felt under my hands, and didn’t blame them.
Of course, the guards were equally fascinated by the shapes under my thin shirt. Icarus had my cloak tucked under one arm—we both agreed it was best if he kept it, as I could and would be searched—so I was wearing precious little. Three of the guards were Alphas, and I noted their faces as I approached, my bare feet catching on the rough planks as the Brute pulled me along. The Alphas sniffed the air, and I wondered why, until their eyes homed in on me.
Goddess, why would I even be throwing out my lure now? I was being marched to prison, possibly torture… Oh. Right. I’d been thinking about touching Icarus’s wings.
Stop thinking about sexy men, Roya. It’s time to kill a regent.
“This woman poisoned your king?” Gullen demanded as I approached. “I’m not surprised. She attacked my men when she was here, and left our prince on the edge of death.” I had been right; he had hidden Altair’s flight.
Icarus shot me a scathing glance. “She says her mentor, the assassin Thorn, left supplies here. That she can make an antidote.”
“Ah, so she was a student of the assassin we killed?” Gullen’s eyes flashed with suppressed rage. “Are you sure she’ll cure your brother? And… if she fails, won’t you be king? He sent a message that you would be pardoned, your exile revoked, once you brought him an Omega.” He gestured to me with a raised eyebrow. “Well done, Prince Icarus.”
Icarus flinched at the title, but two of Talon’s guards nodded. They obviously had known this.
