The king was watching her with smug satisfaction, letting her put space between them.
“I’m here. Where’s my arrow?” she snarled, reminding herself over and over again that she could not stab him right now. In his home. Where surely there were guards around every corner.
“Ah,” he replied, that knowing smile returning. “That part can wait until mid-morning.”
“I’m not staying here,” she argued.
But he strode to a nearby door and threw it open. “We have quite a bit to discuss later today, tiny fiend. I suggest getting some rest.”
“I don’t need to discuss anything with you.”
“If you’d rather discuss the stabbing with my Commander of Forces, you’re more than welcome to,” he said with faux innocence.
“And if I simply leave?” she countered.
“You are not one of the few people who can Travel in and out of the castle. Even your intriguing smoke and ashes won’t serve you here. So you’ll be left to walk out on your own two feet, and that won’t happen either.”
He waited expectantly, and what was she supposed to say? Of course he knew about her smoke and ashes. He’d seen her with those creatures, and she knew she couldn’t move among them here. She also knew all about the wards surrounding the castle. It was why she’d had to watch him from afar when he ventured out to the shores or beyond the Nightmist Mountains.
“You are holding me against my will?” she finally said, every part of her vibrating with the words.
“No, tiny fiend,” he replied condescendingly. “I’m graciously hosting you for the night before we enter negotiations tomorrow.”
She couldn’t keep the surprise off her face. “Negotiations for what?”
“I need a wife and more of those arrows,” he answered. “I think you’re the answer to both.”
Chapter 6
Razik
“Do you ever sleep?” Wren grumbled as she languidly stretched beside him in bed.
Sitting against the headboard, he glanced down at her as she pulled the pillow over her head to hide from the sunlight. He didn’t bother responding. She already knew the answer to that. The sheets slid down with her movement, revealing bare skin. They’d fucked last night, which wasn’t uncommon. They’d simply both needed to relieve some tension, and the Source bond between them allowed them a deeper connection. Sometimes it was just more convenient to take care of each other’s needs, and that had been the case last night after the Esbat Festival.
But fucking was all it was. Nothing more. There was nothing exclusive about their arrangement, and they each took other partners when they wanted. Except for the other Cadre members. He drew a line there, but that was at Wren’s request because they spent so much time with them. She didn’t want the others to know she’d requested the boundary, afraid of offending them, and Razik was fine with that. It was the least he could dowhen she’d willingly bound herself to him as his Source. Besides, he didn’t particularly care who he offended.
Snapping closed the book he’d been combing through, he slipped from the bed, making his way to the bathing chamber. “It’s about time you woke up,” he called, looking back over his shoulder. “I’ve been wanting to go down for breakfast for the last hour.”
Wren rolled onto her back, propping herself up on her elbows. Long brown locks slid over her shoulder as her navy blue eyes locked on to him, clearly unimpressed. “Last I checked, you didn’t need me to escort you around the castle.”
Razik ignored her, pushing the door to the bathing chamber shut behind him. He splashed water on his face, cleaned his teeth, and took care of other needs before going to the dressing room. He dressed in his usual black pants and black tunic, the Cadre crest embroidered on the chest. Boots and weapons were next, and by the time he re-emerged in the bedchamber, Wren was out of bed and slipping on her own tunic.
“Put this in the laundry,” she said, tossing her Esbat cloak at him as she made her way to the bathing chamber. While he’d been in uniform last night, she’d been in the festival garb, enjoying the celebrations.
He waited impatiently for her to get ready, taking the ridiculous time females needed to do whatever they did in the mornings.
He’d been put on the team in charge of Cethin’s security last night, and as much as it had irked him, he couldn’t argue with the logic. There hadn’t been any more attacks—phantom beings or otherwise—since the one at the castle a few weeks ago. A large celebration was the perfect opportunity to strike, especially with so many Fae gathered in one place. More than that, if the phantom beingshadappeared, he’d be needed with his dragonfire, which is why Wren had stayed at his side the entire night as well.
Of course, nothing dire had happened, and it had put him in a sour mood that he’d had to spend his evening watching the arrogant king rather than doing…anything else. And somehow, the bastard had still managed to get himself sliced up. Cethin had played it off, but Razik was trained well enough to recognize a stab wound when he saw one. How none of his guards had seen what had happened was still a mystery to him, but everyone had been on high alert the rest of the evening.
For no reason.
It’d been hours of watching females and males alike swoon over him. Watching him give smiles and polite conversation in return. Watching everyone get drunk.
It hadn’t been all bad, he supposed. After the king had fucked off back to the castle with a random female, they’d been relieved of their duties. He’d met up with Jarek, Fallon, and the rest of the Cadre at a pub, where they’d toasted Valric and drank in his memory. They’d done so a few times since his death, but today Tybalt was supposed to be appointing a warrior to fill the vacancy. Today it would feel more final as they all moved on without a trusted member of their family.
The bathing room door flung open, and before Razik could say a word, Wren sighed dramatically. “Yes, yes, I know. I take too long, but I’d like to remind you once again that I do not need an escort through this castle.”
