“Thank all the Saints you’re safe!” Jayveh threw her arms around Amryn, tugging her away from Carver.
His empty fingers curled, as if that could keep the warmth of his wife’s touch lingering against his skin. He selfishly wanted to keep Amryn close, but he reined in the impulse to pull her back. Jayveh and Amryn had become close friends during their time at Esperance. He wouldn’t stand in the way of what either woman needed right now.
Jayveh’s rich ebony skin was the complete opposite of Amryn’s porcelain features. The princess was tall, with intelligent dark eyes that seemed to catch everything. Once, Carver had thought the Xerran princess was a traitor. Now, he knew Argent had been right to trust her.
The mere thought of his best friend cut like a knife. All he could see in his mind was Argent’s full smile. Something he’d never truly see again. His stomach clenched.
“I was so worried.” Tears glittered in Jayveh’s eyes as she embraced Amryn. “The guards wouldn’t let me leave to check on you.”
Carver glanced at the uniformed men stationed inside the room. They were Argent’s guards, the only soldiers who had been allowed to stay in Esperance when the entire compound was sealed. They were no mere temple guards; these were highly trained royal bodyguards. Each man Carver saw wore a solemn yet determined expression. They would give their lives to protect Argent’s wife—and the heir she carried. None of the men knew it for certain yet, but that unborn child was all that remained of Prince Argent Vayne.
“I’m fine,” Amryn said, trying to reassure Jayveh.
Doubt stirred in the princess’s eyes, even as she drew back. “You look pale. Are you still feeling sick from Tam’s poison? It seemed to take more of a toll on you than the rest of us.”
The reason for Amryn’s fatigue might have been because she alone had suffered the poison naturally, with only the antidote Carver had forced upon her. Amryn had healed the rest of them with the bloodstone.
Something Jayveh could never know.
Of course, using the bloodstone to enhance her empathic magic might have been the cause of Amryn’s lingering exhaustion. The thought made Carver tense. He was still adjusting to the reality that his wife was an empath. And that a dangerous, supernatural relic had bonded with her in some way.
“I’m nearly back to myself again,” Amryn said, giving Jayveh a tired smile. Carver wondered if he was the only one who spied the strain in it.
“General Vincetti?”
Carver met the eyes of the bodyguard who had stepped forward. “Yes?”
The man’s eyebrows drew together. “Prince Ivan Baranov is here.”
Carver turned to the open door, his gaze clashing with Ivan’s. The man might have been a prince, but he was also one of the elite Sibeten fighters known as Wolves. With a tall, thickly muscled build and piercing ice-blue eyes, he was an intimidating warrior. He had saved Amryn’s life, but Carver didn’t appreciate the intense fascination the man had for his wife. Ivan had danced with her, given her the Wolf Salute, and—Carver had recently learned—may have guessed Amryn’s secret because she’d healed him on Zawri.
The less time the man spent with Amryn, the better.
But Amryn spotted Ivan before Carver could tell the guards to dismiss him. “Ivan! You’re all right?”
“Yenn,” he said, using his native tongue as he gave the affirmative. “Is all well here?” His eyes slid to Jayveh, but returned almost at once to Amryn. And remained there. Firmly.
Carver’s jaw tightened. “We’re fine.”
That frosted stare landed back on Carver. “Good.”
Jayveh suddenly straightened. “We need to make sure Samuel and Sadia are all right.”
“Carver and I can check on them,” Ivan offered.
The last thing Carver wanted to do was leave Amryn. Everything in him rebelled at the thought, and it wasn’t just because of the quake. Everything felt so raw right now. Tam’s betrayal, the disastrous Feast of Remembrance, losing Argent, nearly losing Amryn—to Tam’s poison, to that cursed amulet, and then to an assassin who’d called herself Marriset. Then there was Amryn’s secret. If the wrong person discovered she was an empath, she could be killed. It made his gut twist.
She was his to protect. He had failed too many people in his life—he refused to fail her. And he couldn’t keep her safe if he wasn’t with her.
“Would you mind?” Jayveh asked Carver. A palm pressed to her abdomen, which was still mostly flat despite the new life growing within. “I’ll feel better knowing they’re safe after the quake.”
He wanted to refuse, but when he glanced at Amryn, she gave him a slight nod. Permission or reassurance, he wasn’t sure, but he knew she wanted him to ease Jayveh’s mind. Saints, she was probably worried about Samuel and Sadia, too. It didn’t matter that Samuel had led her into Tam’s trap, not when Amryn was such a good person. Everything Samuel had done last night had been to protect Sadia, and that seemed enough of a reason for Amryn to forgive him.
But while she didn’t see the danger in Samuel’s desperation, Carver did. He might be able to understand the younger man’s need to protect his wife, but he knew he could never fully trust the scholarly prince again. Not when he’d been so easily exploited.
“Stay here,” Carver said to both Amryn and Jayveh.
They both nodded, and Carver gestured for Ivan to precede him out of the room. Many men would have hesitated to show Carver their back, but Ivan walked right out. Carver trailed after, then fell into step beside him.
