Page 17

Chapter 16

Vareck

Days had passed since Meera locked herself in the bedroom, refusing to speak to me.

She claimed to not be as hot-headed as her redcap family, but the broken furniture, dishes, and vases in my room said otherwise. I wouldn’t have been surprised if she had some redcap in her. A part of me expected her to be covered in blood each night when I snuck in there to sleep. I came in late, long after she’d fallen asleep, and I’d leave early, not willing to risk her ire.

That first day, she had screamed that she wanted space; to be left alone. I said the words no man should ever say. I told her she needed to calm down. The moment it slipped out, I realized my mistake. The wild rage in her eyes turned into a fury I’d never seen in a woman. Then a plate went flying at my head. Since then, I’d gone stir crazy trying to keep my distance. I dreamed of her every night, like usual. Except now they blended into reality. The dreams were so lifelike that I had trouble recognizing that I was asleep until I woke up. It didn’t help that Meera knew my name now and would scream it every time she came in one of our dreams. On the third night, it had morphed and intensified, and a new hunger gnawed at me anytime I was away from her—the primal urge to break down the door and take her. The ways I longed to touch her, to make her mine, concerned me.

My study was where I spent most of my hours. I tried to focus on my work, scribbling away at documents, reading progress reports of my soldiers following trails in the Arcane District in an attempt to find Damon. They were all dead ends. The leprechaun kept his word, providing intel, but I didn’t trust him. When I saw him with Kaia, I remembered exactly who he was. There was never proof he’d taken Amoret’s amulet, but my gut said he did it. I still believed that.

Until we could figure out how to break Meera’s contract and reveal who she worked for, all I had to go on was Lucian. Eleanor was breathing down my neck, and I wouldn’t reveal the truth of it. At this point, I was concerned about Damon’s wellbeing. He’d been gone almost a week, and there was no ransom. No message to get our attention.

My nephew was useless, a manchild with no sense of responsibility, but he was still my heir—not a great succession, but he was literally the only option. Basically I needed to not die.

I grunted as my quill snapped in my grip, ink blotting against the parchment. Damn it. Pushing away from my desk, I ran a hand through my hair, trying to shake off the restless energy that buzzed through me.

A weight landed on the corner of my desk, followed by a nudge against an open ink well. I barely caught the bottle before it tipped over .

“Must you?” I huffed, corking the ink and moving it out of Corvo’s reach.

The demon cat stretched lazily, his ass up in the air, flicking his tail. “I must. You’ve got that thousand-yard stare again, V. I know your mind’s running a million miles a minute—I can hear it all , you know.” He sighed dramatically. “And frankly, I’m getting tired of how much you think about wanting to fu?—”

I cut him off with a scratch beneath his chin. “You can also shut that connection off, furball. No need to listen.”

“And deny myself the opportunity to goad you with it? Never.”

“How in the world was I blessed with you as my demon guardian?” I muttered dryly.

Corvo purred, pleased with himself. “Hey, I do my best to keep things interesting.”

“Please don’t.”

“What ails you, oh great fae king?”

“Oh, I don’t know? I have a frigid, cursed kingdom. A smartass cat. Dead ends to a missing nephew.” I flung a paper off the desk, and it floated to the floor. “Oh, and the woman of my dreams despises me.”

“Boo-fucking-hoo. Whiny is not a good image for you. Where is the dark king? Ruthless lord of the land?”

“Make your point, Corvo.”

“Look, you’ve tried talking to her, but she isn’t going to listen. Maybe do the breaking down the door thing?” he suggested, settling into a loaf position. “Women like an alpha male, right? Like Drayden. Bang-bang on your chest and tell her she’s yours.”

“The thought has crossed my mind,” I said, rubbing my temples with my elbows propped on my desk. “The likelihood of a chair flying at my face is usually how that scenario ends when I imagine it.”

“Right? What is she? She is crazy strong for someone whose powers are nullified.” He tilted his head the way he usually did when he was thinking. “Have you gotten her something? A gift? Women like things like that.”

I arched a brow. “Since when are you an expert on women?”

“I observe. And I’ve decided the best advice comes from inexperience.” He flicked his ear. “So? You gonna get her something or what?”

I leaned back in my chair, rubbing at the scruff of my beard. “I’ve been sending her books. I stopped sending flowers. The vases all ended up broken. I swear she dumped the glass lilies in the hallway and stomped on them.”

Corvo’s ear twitched. He looked wholly unimpressed.

“What?”

“You got her books. That’s the best you can do?”

I flicked a wadded ball of parchment at him. “She likes books, and I got her the romance-kind she likes. I’ve been sending Lorne to the earth realm to get them.”

“Did you read them?”

“No,” I said quickly. “Why?”

Of course I read them. What else could I do with my time? The heat in the books was likely contributing to the increasingly intense desire to fuck her.

“You really are dense,” he meowed, curling his tail around himself. “If she likes the books, maybe she likes what the guys in there do for romance.”

Scenarios played out in my mind. I had a feeling if I told her to get down on her knees and crawl to me, I’d get kicked in the balls. What did some of those characters do? Killed an abuser. Tortured an enemy. There was some light stalking on occasion. We’d already done the whole kidnapping thing, and she didn’t seem to be into it. What was actually considered romantic?

“Jewelry,” I said suddenly, remembering a character that gifted a family heirloom to the woman he loved. “She told me she collects it.”

“You already got her a necklace,” he said with a feline cackle, and I glared at him. “It went over so well.”

“Be helpful or I’m trading your tuna for some shit they feed cats in the earth realm.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

He hissed, swishing his tail sharply in annoyance, but he wisely–and reluctantly–chose to keep quiet.

Pushing myself back from the desk, I stood up, heading to the door.

“Where are you going?” he asked, sitting up.

“The family vault.”

“You’re going to get her jewelry from the family vault?” I turned, raising a brow in response to his tone. He chuckled. “Oh, wait until Eleanor sees her son’s kidnapper wearing a family heirloom. She’ll have a heart attack.”

“We can only hope.”