While guards shouted orders to one another, I blinked with my mind in a muddle. “That was highly unorthodox, elf. But mayhap, we should stay away from windows for a time?”
“Quite so.” Caspian snorted dryly. “The Fae seems to have a penchant for peeping. Not only is he a lethal Fae, he is a dirty handed Fae. He should die a death suitable for someone as nasty as he.”
I grunted. “Hear, hear.”
“Is that blood on my newest painting?” Minnie squealed from the doorway, where royal guards were trying to keep her out. “I cannot believe this!Whodid this?” Her golden elven gaze flayed me to the spot, my death flashing in her eyes. “Shifter…if you did that, we’re going to have words.”
I eyed the blood splattering the painting she jammed her pointed finger at when I merely looked at her in confusion. I cocked my head, judging the red blood dripping down the scenic canvas.
After a moment, I shrugged and rumbled, “I like it.” I lifted a brow at her neck breaking glare. “Art is in the eye of the beholder, after all.”
Caspian whapped me upside the back of my head, whispering harshly, “Do not anger that elf.Do. Not. Anger. Her.”
I grunted and rubbed the back of my head. “It was the truth.”
My soul mate sighed dramatically and grabbed onto my bicep, yanking me in the opposite direction of King Traevon’s soul mate, leading us to the other exit in the room. “Let us find my king before his love decides you are better off as a rug.”
Horror of an elf:
I never thought too much of a great thing could be a hindrance. But I’ve learned that is utter bullshit.
So if it’s suddenly cold on a hot day…
Don’t fucking knock.
“Tell me what the casters looked like?” King Traevon commanded as he steepled his fingers under his chin and sat back in his chair—his study doors closed to prevent any eavesdropping ears. “You said there were two of them?”
“Yes.” I leaned against the back of the chair that my soul mate sat on. “A man and a woman.”
Bishop grunted and tilted his head, resting his temple against the tall-backed, curved support of his seat. “The woman had black root hair, fair skin, and blue-mist eyes. She was thin and agile, knew how to work a sword with great proficiency.”
“The man was just as skilled as she with the blade.” I tapped my fingers on my lips before brushing my white hair aside that constantly fell into one of my eyes. “He has short, twiggy red hair, and is also fair of skin. I believe he had brown-mist eyes. He’s thin and fit, like she is.”
King Traevon’s red brows puckered below his crown. “And you didn’t recognize them?”
“Not at all,” I muttered irritably. “I’ve never seen them before. And neither has Bishop. How in the realm did they sneak onto the castle grounds?”
My king chuckled quietly—with a dash of ruthlessness. “As these unknown casters came to your aid, the better question is how the punisher continues to find his way onto my land.” He leaned forward and picked up a shifter-made cigar, lighting it with his royal firepower absently. Puffing on the fragrant smoke, he was quiet for a moment before he stated, “I want you two to stay in the inner and upper levels of the castle for the rest of the day. And send in Marlon on your way out. I have a task for him.”
Recognizing the dismissal of a king, Bishop stood and stretched his back, muttering, “King Athon needs to know the punisher has shown his ugly face again. Please make sure he is informed.”
King Traevon nodded absently, peering off to the side, deeply in thought. “Of course.” He waved the cherry of his smoke at the door. “You two may go.”
I stalked toward the doorway, holding the door open for my soul mate, his soft scent of lilies tickling my nose.
Bishop glanced back, pausing in front of me, his solid honey-brown eyes capturing my king’s at the last moment. “Your soul-mated anniversary gifts are hidden in the stable under the spare chicken feed. One bag at the bottom of the pile.”
The King of Elves took a long draw from his shifter-made cigar, watching the shifter over the end of the burn. He blew the smoke out in a slow breath, murmuring casually, “I would do this for anyone, Bishop. It is part of my duty to protect this realm. This does not make us friendly.” A calm red brow lifted. “And, by the by, if you ever hurt my nephew, I will end you—despite the promise to your mother.”
Bishop snorted quietly. “As if I didn’t understand that at dinner last night, Your Royal Highness.” He dipped into a mocking bow and then turned, leaving the room without another word.
I stood in place, watching my soul mate walk down the hallway, his large form disappearing from sight. With a slow turn of my head, I met my king's dissecting gaze and held it coolly.
Rarely did I show the killer in me.
Doing so was a direct contradiction to an assassin’s work, and, if I did, that individual wasn’t breathing for long.
This time I let the darkness inside myself unfurl and peek from its hidden depths as I held my king’s calm gaze. While he merely puffed on his shifter-made cigar, watching me watch him, I stated simply, “If you kill him, I will kill you.”
