“Did you… find that out yourself?” the woman asks, and I desperately want to strangle her. I do not need to know all this stuff about my wife.
“No, Fabia wouldn’t let me.”
Remind me to give her a promotion.
“But luckily, brownies love to volunteer.”
“Tell them about the current design,” Fabia cuts in from behind us, making me wary. What stories is she trying to make sure Arienna doesn’t reveal? Deciding I don’t want to know, I keep my mouth shut.
Which is what I should’ve done in the first fucking place.
“Oh, yes! It’s an artificial tongue that licks your blood up. Which doesn’t just keep your lips clean so you don’t have to washwhen you go to the loo every time, but it also feelsamazing!Did you know orgasms help with period cramps?” Her head snaps to me, her eyes calculating. “Though I might have to change a few things because I have learned some stuff since getting married...”
I’m not sure if I should be proud of that or embarrassed to hel, so I stand there utterly expressionless.
“Your Majesty,” a giant of a man says as he walks over to us, his voice deep and rolling. His tone is one of pure professionalism, but it’s heavily laced with tight anger. It is a tone I know well.
But I’d rather take a physical threat than continue this conversation, so I steer my wife towards him. None of the women look sad to see us go.
As we stop in front of him, I take in the jagged scar cupping his left eye. Sharp silver fury stares at me under spiky maroon hair. I’m solidly straight, but even I can tell he’s handsome. The battle-hard women undressing him with their eyes clearly think the same. A tattooed snake baring its fangs runs down the side of his face, its body slinking back behind his ear and then down and around his neck before disappearing into his black and red robes. Despite myself, I look down, and it takes everything in me to stop from laughing out loud at the ridiculously large bulge he’s carrying.
“Redric,” I say, the slightest bit of humour shaking my voice. “Is it Commander still?” I ask, shoving my tremors of laughter under an air of respect and hospitality.
Before he can answer, Jace jumps the guy. With a deep-bellied laugh, he wraps his arms around him.
Redric stiffens, his jaw locking, but he doesn’t force my guard away. He looks like he wants to break Jace’s neck, but he waits patiently until he’s released.
Pulling back, Jace holds him by the biceps as he looks down between them. He isn’t subtle about it like I was. “You still got those massive balls of yours?”
“Jace,” I say sharply enough to get him to back off before he causes another war. The man’s a Vylian, and even if he’s only a commander, he’s skilled enough in hunting witches that if he decides to go rogue, he can still deal us a heavy blow. And even then, King Dravr will protect him. Witches are too valuable to lose, as are their hunters.
Jace releases him and steps back.
“I’m a wariq now, Your Grace,” Redric says. The highest title there is. King Dravr will definitely go to war for him; to leave a warress or wariq behind is to tell every noble that they’re nothing more than commoners.
“Hi,” Arienna says, her eyes wide as she drinks him in. My hand tightens on her as jealousy tightens its grip on me.
Fuck it. War it is.
“Speak quickly, Wariq Redric,” I growl.
“I wish to immigrate over.”
Before I can tell him no, Arienna shoves in front of me and blurts, “We’re monopolists.” She puts her hands on her hips. “And you can’t stay here.”
A deep rumble leaves me as I pull my wife back into my arms. “There’s your answer,” I say as I fight the urge to scoop her up and carry her upstairs.
Signalling to the staff, I head for the table. My brain is screaming all the words I want to say.I love you. Marry me again. I love you.
Fuck, do I love you.
My tongue tight, I pull out her chair. My palm damp, I try to force those damn words out, but she cuts in before I can.
“Who’s Redric?” she demands sourly as she sits down.
I glance at her as I take my own chair, wondering where her mind is. “A Vylian soldier Evangeline kept bullying.”
“Your ex?”
