The nobles can fucking wait, I decide. I have a wife to comfort and win back – or lock up, depending on how the next few hours go.
Glancing around the room, I stride over to the rack of toys. I realise there isn’t a toilet in here – just a shower. Although there’s one in the ensuite leading off my bedroom, there are too many windows in my main chambers.
Assassins could break through them just like they did before our wedding. I frown.They can also break through the door…
Perhaps I should lock Jace in here with her.
My eyes land on a black suction-cup dildo. Then they skirt around the other sex toys hanging from the walls and sitting on the many shelves – it’s enough to put a brownie’s market stall to shame.
Oh fuck no.
I promised her Jace could do one thing to her tonight. Although I trust him not to do anything behind my back, Arienna grew up in a sex cult. Monogamy is seen as a fetish there, and we haven’t yet had the exclusivity talk. We might be married, but married brownies fuck others all the time.
If I lock Jace in here with her for her protection, I’d have to cut off his cock. And his hands. And his tongue.
A smirk curls my lips.
Jace not being able to talk is tempting.
Shit. No.We’re only alive because he shouted at us to get down. And him having zero hands would really defeat his purpose for being in here with her.
Grabbing a clit vibrator, some padded black restraints, nipple clamps, and a tattoo wand, I start to turn for the door before going back to grab the suction cup dildo and lube. Jace’s cock isn’t going anywhere near her, but if she wants to be fucked in both holes at once, then so be it.
My hands full of awkward-to-carry items, I narrow my eyes on the closed door in front of me. Godsdammit. I have a habit of shutting them behind me – something that has saved my life more than once, but right now, it’s just adding to my frustration.
Breathing out, I snap my foot out at the door knob. The locking mechanism splinters under my heel, and the door bangs open so hard, it lodges into the wall. Figuring it’s just one more thing that needs fixing in a sea of mess, I head for the main door.
I kick it with my heel, and someone opens it from the outside. All of my guards glance at the pile in my hands. No one says a word as they escort me to Arienna’s rooms. King Dravr and hiswife arrive right as I get there. He stares at the toys as his steps falter.
“I’m not going to be at dinner tonight,” I inform him. “Prince Nicholas will take my place. Any deals you make with him will be upheld.”
He inclines his head. “Tory Deirdre – I would like her services for free; resurrecting our people will go a long way to soothing the anger born from today.”
“Done. I will speak to her myself. Later.” I nod at one of Arienna’s guards. She opens the door, and I step inside as the Vylian king and queen are shown to their rooms a few doors down.
Entering, I look at Marrabel. She’s standing at attention, with no emotions in her eyes. Jace is in the kitchenette. The doors to my wife’s rooms are closed, and I want to snap at them for not being in there with her.
But I don’t. Because I trust my head of security to guard her like he would me. If he’s out here, then that means Fabia is still in there.
“Raychel is bringing your sister back,” I say as I stop to take a moment with Marrabel.
Hope flickers in her gaze for a second before she clamps it down. “Is she alive?”
“I don’t know.”
She jerks her head in a nod. Her lips part, but just then, one of the sliding doors opens behind her. Arienna steps out of her bedroom, followed by Fabia.
My entire attention now on my wife, I say, “Everyone out but Jace. Marrabel, tell Nicholas to assume the rest of my duties today. You’re to stay with him.” I know she needs to not be alone right now. If word comes back about her sister, Nicholas will relieve her immediately.
As the two women leave, Arienna steps up to me. Her eyes are on my face rather than the toys, and I do not like the questions there. “Don’t you… want to talk first?”
“No.” I cross over to the sitting area and dump everything on the coffee table before turning back to face her.
“You’re hurt!” she exclaims, her eyes on my legs. Then she darts into the ensuite.
“I’m fine,” I say as I walk after her. I don’t want a fucking wand right now. I just want her.
“No, you’re not!” She comes out with a healing wand.
