Fel growled again. This time, it wasn’t directed at Vorik.
“And very capable.” Syla stepped forward, plucked the keys from the corporal, then shooed him toward the door.
“Your Majesty,” the soldier protested without moving. “This is highly unorthodox. And dangerous.”
“It’ll be fine, Corporal.” Syla walked to the table and picked up a dragonspark match resting in the holder with one of the odious green Candles of Serenity.
What a ridiculous name. Candles of Knock You on Your Ass was what they should have been named.
The soldier looked like he would protest further, but a major stepped into the doorway and cleared his throat. “Come out, men. You won’t want to stay in there once that’s lit. Not unless you’d like to take a nap.” He gave Vorik a pointed look.
“I like naps,” someone whispered, sounding wistful.
Under the major’s eye, the soldiers trooped out, though many frowned back with concern, looking between Syla and Vorik.
“You’ll want to wait in the corridor too, Fel. And don’t stand too close to the door. The vapors of the candle may waft out through the gap.” Syla waved toward the bottom of the door. “I’ll yell if anything goes awry, but I have all the tools I need to question Vorik.” She pointed to the jars, candles, and was that her medical kit on the desk as well?
“ThatI don’t doubt,” Fel said, not moving.
“You question if I’ll use them?”
“On someone you havefeelingsfor, yes.” People said curse words with less loathing.
Syla hesitated, but then used the match to light the candle. “I’ll put the good of the Kingdom ahead of my feelings.”
Vorik grimaced. She sounded sincere.
Fel also grimaced, but then grunted and turned to leave.
“I like naps too,” he grumbled, but he stepped out and closed the door.
Syla locked it after him, then returned to the desk, the first hint of eucalyptus and another pungent scent mingling in the air. Last time, it had taken Vorik some time to pass out, but the cave had been much better ventilated than a cabin with the door and portholes closed.
He eyed her with wariness but a part of him remembered what had happened the last time those scents hung in the air. Long before he’d passed out, they’d enjoyed magnificent sex. And now… they were alone again. She stood before him with her lush auburn hair around her shoulders, drawing the eye toward her chest, especially the curve of her breasts under a dress that hugged her body in a most appealing manner. Snug over her hips, it trailed down past her knees, but it would be easy enoughto lift her hem to see more of her legs, to let his hand slide along her smooth thigh, relishing in the soft warmth of her skin…
Vorik swallowed and lifted his eyes toward the ceiling, trying to tamp down his arousal. Even ifseductionhad crossed his mind, it was foolish to think of sex with someone about to drug him.
But it wasn’t justsomeone, he admitted. It was Syla. And he always longed for her. Even when he shouldn’t.
Unaware of his thoughts—or how sexy he found her—she sat down at the desk. For a long moment, she studied his face before shaking her head and surprising him by snuffing out the candle.
“You’re not going to knock me out?” Vorik asked.
“I should, but no.”
“That was… a ruse to get rid of your men?”
“Fel especially, yes.”
“So we can enjoy a private and exquisitely pleasurable sexual encounter?” Vorik doubted she had that on her mind, but his groin tightened anyway, excited by the possibility. Once more, the wordseductionfloated through his mind, and a surge of desire almost made him draw upon his power to break his shackles again so that he could spring to her and carry her to the bed.
Her gaze slid to the jars on the desk, especially the small blue one that likely held the hydra-scale powder. She hadn’t said yet thatitwas a ruse. Was it something Vorik had to ingest? Or a substance she could blow into the air that he might inhale?
Had Vorik envisioned it being used on him, he would have asked Jhiton—or maybe the tribe healer—for more details. But how could he have known that Syla had also recovered some from the laboratory?
“My advisors believe wholeheartedly that I should question you,” Syla said, following his gaze, “under the influence of hydra-scale powder. We know you won’t otherwise betray your people.”
“Your advisors? Your aunt or your bodyguard?” Vorik tilted his head toward the corridor, though he’d caught the gist of their conversation—theiradvisement.
