Heated indignation flares in my chest despite staring into the golden eyes I adore. “Had you not been with Fenryn, you would have,” I counter.
He heaves a sigh. “Fenryn is trustworthy, little demon.” Raking a hand through his hair, he says, “He is the only Sovereign King Iwould dare trust with my life.”
“How beautifully poetic for you,” I retort coldly. “You know where I stand. The fewer Sovereign Kings who learn of my return the better. How do you know it wasn’t Fenryn who told Rowen? Rowen mentioned someone—”
“By name?” Ryc interjects, his brows shooting high.
I shake my head. “No.” I inhale a deep breath. “Not by name.”
“I’m surprised Rowen didn’t approach me following today’s council meeting if that’s the case,” Ryc says, keeping his voice low.
That’swhy he had a mental ward in place.
He must have just returned when I tried reaching out.
I purse my lips into a tight line.
“Rowen has suspected for some time. I’ve done what I can to deter that suspicion,” Ryc says, and his watchful eyes travel across the room.
They fall upon the window I’ve left open.
His brows crease as the series of events leading me to this room become clear.
“Did you break into this room using the window?” he sounds incredulous, but it doesn’t stop the smile crossing his face.
Heat stings my cheeks.
“No,” I reply callously. Clearly a lie. “I reside here. You cannotbreakinto your own residence. And besides, nothing wasbroken. The window was left unlatched.”
I admit, the arched brow and bemused glare he gives me is well-earned. His lips quickly curl in a wicked smirk as he shakes his head.
“I can guarantee it wasn’t Fenryn who said anything,” he says as he crosses the room, his hand gently grazing mine as he passes.
Pulling a seat out at the table on the far side of the room, he gestures for me to sit. With less reluctance than I’d like, I accept the invitation.
Seating himself beside me, he angles his chair toward me and collecting my hands in his, he braids his fingers through mine. The warmth of his touch races straight to my heart and his golden gaze threatens to leave me breathless. He pitches himself forward, leaning his elbows againsthis knees.
“But now Rowen’s seen you,” he says, lifting his eyes to search my face. “And he has no reason to keep your return hidden. In fact, he has every reason to tell the council the moment he leaves.”
My ribs tighten.
Telling the High Council means we’ll be forced to ascend.
Muchsooner than either of us would like.
Sensing my building dread, Ryc gives my hands a gentle squeeze.
“I have been very careful in fielding questions about you, little death,” Ryc says. “But even so, Rowen would have figured it out given time. I may have convinced a majority of the council of your death, but Rowen has experienced the loss of a mate.”
My brows shoot high.
Despite the questions springing into my head, I remain silent.
“That alone would be enough for him to arrive with questions,” Ryc continues. “We may be able to convince Rowen to keep quiet for a few years while you adapt and adjust. But if he’s mentioned someone, we need to find out who. If it was a fellow king, that possibility lessens.”
“So we talk,” I say, fighting to keep the irritation from my tone. “Figure out what he knows and consider our options.”
Rowen’s death is a valid option.
