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The fact she had no qualms about openly threatening Arrik showed just how ugly Astrid was. And safe in her power. As if she deemed herself invincible.

Not forever, you witch.

Arrik kept his gaze and voice steady as he said, “Give it your best shot. I am not afraid of you, stepmother.”

He wasn’t, though part of Arrik wondered if he should be. She was vicious. None of her rivals ever survived.

The queen laughed then, an ugly sound that sent Arrik’s spine crawling. “We shall see how unafraid you are in due course,” she said, sauntering back to the door and slamming it with a resounding echo.

Once Arrik was left alone, he made a mental note to put another soldier on Astrid’s trail. Something told him the previous one was either dead or now completely under her sway.

Do not eat or drink anything whilst in her company or her home.

He glanced at the darkened window and sighed, knowing it was going to be a very long and hungry night.

Astrid was known for her poisonings. Arrik had good reason to suspect she had killed at least one of his wives as punishment for him denying her advances. Whether she was responsible for all of them, Arrik did not know.

It was another thing he longed to investigate. Instead, he resigned himself to a long and thankless night of trying not to think about food, about the men who had attacked him, and about the Dragon Princess.

The one woman he’d let escape on purpose and lived to regret.

10

ARRIK

"You’re not going to stand there all night like a grumpy old man, are you?” His stepmother pouted, full bottom lip sticking out like a plump slug.

Two days stuck in Astrid’s company felt like a lifetime.

Arrik kept his expression schooled as she ran her pointed nails over his chest plate and hid his shudder. “I’m here for your protection, my lady. I can’t indulge tonight.” Or any night. Indulgence led to weakness and weakness led to a knife in one’s back. “The king tasked me with your safety. What would he say if I abandoned my duty?”

She rolled her eyes. “That man cares nothing for me. If I died tomorrow, he’d feast and appoint one of his many wives to take my place.”

That was true. Soren only cared for pleasure and wealth.

Arrik nodded to his warrior stationed at the door to take his place. It was time for him to move to outside patrol. There was only so much of Astrid that he could take in one sitting. Plus, his stepmother was about to get emotional, handsy, and then mean.

“Soren cares for you,” he murmured, removing her hand from his chest. “I need to secure the perimeter. Enjoy your evening, Mother.”

He hated calling her Mother because she’d wasn’t his mum, but it always established a wall between them.

An angry glint entered her gaze and she huffed, turning in a sea of silk, and flounced back to her group of miscreant friends.

Good riddance.

He strode from the room, down the stairs, and out into the back courtyard. The chill of the night surrounded him along with the scent of the sea and pine.

Arrik inhaled deeply and savored the quiet of the night. Astrid always tried his patience. Her persistence disgusted him but he couldn’t outright rebuff his stepmother in public. She was queen after all.

It was a delicate game he had to play—be firm enough that she would go away but not harsh enough that she’d turn the full force of her wrath upon him. His stepmother was a force to be reckoned with. Soren had chosen Astrid for her family’s land and her beauty, but what the king hadn’t known was how vile and ruthless she was. It was no mistake she became his first wife and consort.

Arrik had seen her destroy families, topple criminal organizations in the name of justice only to take up the mantle of leader in secret, and sanction more assassinations than his royal half-brothers combined.

Astrid was a devil parading around as an angel.

A high whistle followed by two low notes cut through the air.

That was Shane’s call. He was supposed to be at the castle. What was he doing here?