The blood wasn’t coming off without it.
I managed to toss my clothes back on, tug the strap of my traveling bag over my right shoulder, dash down the stairs, and sit on one of the chairs in front of his black desk, right before King Athon and Bishop—book in his hand—strolled into the room.
Bishop stopped in his tracks and blinked at my soaking wet hair and clean face. In awe, he said, “My Fae. She really doesn’t listen at all. I almost feel bad for King Traevon.”
“Fuck you, shifter,” I grouched.
He shook his head, scolding, “You should really watch your tone here, Princess Trixie.”
King Athon rolled his head on his neck, a satisfied smile on his lips, more peaceful looking than I’d ever seen him before. He wore the blood layered on his body with pride. He lifted his muscular arms and released his hair from the high ponytail, the white locks cascading around his shoulders.
The victor of the challenge sighed in contentment. “You can go, Bishop. I’ll take care of this issue from here.”
“Good luck with that.” Bishop snorted.
He sauntered out of the room—with the book in hand—happy to be rid of me judging by his smile, and closed the door behind him quietly.
King Athon prowled across his office. He sniffed at the top of my head as he walked by me, and then turned to place his ass against the edge of the front of his desk, facing me. He crossed his bulging arms over his chest and stared down his nose at me.
There was no real bite in his tone, though, relaxed as he was. “How are you getting out of my kingdom tonight?”
“I will tell you as much as you told me, when you snuck into my kingdom, into my own castle, Your Royal Highness.” I pulled my wet hair over my right shoulder, twisting it so it wouldn’t dampen my entire blouse. “Penelope will fly me out.”
His lips twitched. “I’ll just follow you.”
“I know.” I shrugged.
King Athon lowered his arms to grip the edge of his desk next to his hips, leaning back and stretching. His ridiculously satisfied smile was still planted on his face as he tipped his head back to stare at the ceiling. The shifter king murmured, “Do I even have any clean towels left?”
I chuckled evilly, cruel pleasure lifting my lips. “No. I used the two remaining towels you had in your bathroom. Since you appear to be the only one who can clean your bedchamber, you’ll have to launder them first before you bathe. And my Fae, you are filthy right now.”
The shifter king laughed at the ceiling. “You really are excellent at being a bitch. I congratulate you on that, Princess.”
“It’s an art form I learned long ago.” I sniffed. “I would actually like to speak with you about that seed Ruiuen gifted you.”
“You will never find it. No amount of snooping on your part will end with the seed in your hand.” My annoying soul mate tipped his dirty face back down to capture my emerald elven eyes in his solid black shifter gaze. “And Bishop told me about your fascination with the SEED OF CREATION book. Quit hinting around what you want to ask, and just say it.”
The King of Shifters took the bait. I considered that a win.
I tucked my legs underneath me, and asked bluntly, “Do you have any idea what the seed is that she gave you? Was it in that book?”
“It was not in the book,” King Athon answered tolerantly. “I thought it might be, but I could find no reference to an actual seed. But when the Fae presented me with the gift, I had to take it. All my father’s mad ramblings about the Seed of Creation have been embedded in my mind since I was a child. There might have been a connection, but it appears there was not.”
I cocked my head in curiosity. “Whatdidyou think it was?”
“A way to save my kingdom. A way for me to bear a child with someone who was not my soul mate.” King Athon’s black brows lifted when a small scowl narrowed my eyes—that possessive flare prickly in my gut. “Neither you nor I can help the fact that my seed will not grow inside your lady garden, but I had hoped it might work with someone else of my kingdom. My demented father always said there was a way to have a child outside of the Fae laws, and it was with the Seed of Creation.”
My eyelids slowly fell and rose again. I grimaced as I explained withmuchreluctance, “What your father said could also mean that you and I might bear children together with whatever the Seed of Creation is.”
His head tipped to the side, with his long white hair splaying over his bare shoulder. A rogue smirk lifted one side of his dusky pearl lips, his timbre deep and rough. “I know. But I was hoping it was the other way around. Either way, the point is moot. I have no clue what the seed is that I was gifted, and my father almost destroyed this kingdom in search of the Seed of Creation. I have no desire to walk that path, so I am stuck with your nauseating elven ass and will forever be childless because of the Fae’s blunder.”
I choked on a laugh and shook my head. “I am not the only one who has a talent for being a bitch.”
King Athon grunted in humor. “I won’t argue that point.”
“You are much more cheerful after your challenge,” I said, frankly. “Does this happen every time afterward? And, more importantly, how long does it last?”
My blasted soul mate outright laughed, his hilarity booming inside his office. “Are you alluding to the fact you hope my mood stays this way indefinitely, elf?”
