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Or had they suspected I would respond to her charms with fire. She could cling to her bodice and try to cover herself up, but I knew what was there. She could not hide that lush golden skin from me. I remembered everything.

“Bedded or not, this marriage cannot stand,” Arkin charged. He was apoplectic, the pale skin above his beard breaking out in red splotches. I would be hearing hisI told you solater.

“It cannot be undone,” the lord regent insisted.

“Oh, there is one way it can be undone.” Arkin dropped glittering eyes onto the girl, letting the threat hang. I understood his meaning perfectly, and my skin prickled and muscles tightened. He was a warrior, accustomed to solving problems with his sword.

I cut him a swift glance, shaking my head once in warning. More than brawn was needed here. They had already proven their crafty, devious natures. They were snakes in the grass, and I had to use cunning to outsmart them.

I could tell the others did not understand Arkin’s threat. They looked at each other with blank stares and shrugs. None of the Penterran nobles would grasp his meaning. They did not solve problems by the sword. No, their choice of weapons were lies, courtly intrigue, and machinations.

One glance at her—Tamsyn—though, and I knew she understood. Perhaps a whipping girl knew to expect abuse, to look for the snakes in the grass... that her life was so very expendable.

Perhaps she had always known it would come to this when she was swept up in this charade. Had she expected gentleness from me once I learned the truth?

The lord regent continued, his voice smug. “You wanted a daughter of the king, Lord Dryhten. Now you have one.”

My hand opened and flexed at my side, longing to pound that smugness off his face. “She is not what I asked for, and you damn well know it,” I snapped.

A voice penetrated through my haze of fury and betrayal. “She’s too good for the likes of you.”

I searched and found the source. It was the captain of the guard. We’d been introduced yesterday, but his name eluded me. I had expected someone more intimidating as head of the guard. He was too young, too pretty, too clean. I’d wager his flawless red tunic with its gold buttons had never seen a battlefield. I could not envision him lasting through one skirmish in the Borderlands.

When my gaze locked on his face, the venom in his eyes blasted me. If looks could kill.He vibrated with a rage I could taste on the air.

My gaze shot to her with understanding.Oh.

This was about her. Tamsyn. My wife. My.Mine.The word welled up inside me like someone else,somethingelse, was speaking within me, a beast growling from the shadows.

The captain looked from her to me, his hand ready at the hilt ofthe rapier attached to his belt, gripping it until his skin had turned a bloodless white. I cocked an eyebrow. He was dangerously close to using his weapon—or trying to, at any rate. I wished he would. I felt like hurting someone.

Did he fancy himself in love with her? What manner of man stood by and let another have his woman? Where were his objections an hour ago? I looked him up and down contemptuously. “Is that so? It isIwho does not deserve her?”

Iwas the one deceived.

“Indeed. You don’t.” The pretty soldier took a belligerent step forward.

“Stig,” the lord regent snapped, annoyance flashing across his face. “Stand down.”

He looked like a sullen youth. “Father, I told you this was a bad—”

“Hold your tongue. You forget yourself!”

Father.His son, eh? I should have guessed. This Stig was just some spoiled court brat they stuck into a uniform and named captain of the guard. I doubted he even knew how to use his sword.

Stig fell silent but continued to glare at me. Something dark and primal surged inside me, and I once again found myself wishing he would reach for his rapier. Did she love him back?My wife?This boy playing at being a man?

I moved across the chamber with a casualness that belied my predatory nature. Stopping before him, I angled my head and looked him over in a deliberately insolent manner, hoping to incite him—this coward who thought it right to announce what my wife deserved after he had not lifted a finger to save her from sacrificing herself to the Beast of the Borderlands.

He tensed, ready for an attack, readytoattack. I heartily wished he would. Wished I could unleash my aggression on him.

Ugly emotion slithered through me. Leaning forward, I murmured for his ears alone, “Sorry it wasn’t you?”

He snapped. Lunged at me with a curse. Just as I expected and exactly what I wanted.

What Ineeded.

I hated that Arkin had been right. I should have never come to this place. From the moment I arrived, I’d felt out of sorts. Almost feverish and not right within my skin. And the bedding had left me shaken. Had a spell been cast over me? Was there some witch lingering in the shadows of the palace fucking with my head?