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CHAPTER SIXTEEN

WREN

B y the time they arrived back at the palace, Wren’s heartbeat had settled into a more regular rhythm. His mind still felt a little foggy from the drugging effect of Neah’s mouth on his, but he was doing his best to shake it off, needing answers more than he needed to taste her lips again.

For now, anyway.

He’d guided her to his rooms, seeing as Zennon was staying in hers and this was one of the few places he could guarantee privacy.

Skye had spelled the rooms for him to ensure that what was said inside couldn’t be heard in the hall, and that anyone who entered his rooms without permission would find themselves uncomfortably detained.

The spells needed refreshing every few months so they’d opted to wait and do them all in one go before the ceremony so they’d be at full strength while discussing the sensitive information.

It was strangely nerve wracking, having Neah in his rooms, eyes roving over the design choices and widening at the vast array of books that took up one wall in his parlour.

“You’re a reader.”

“Surprised I know how?” he teased and her lips twitched. The small look vanished almost instantly but he’d seen it and felt suitably smug for breaking through her defences even for a second. “Drink?”

“Definitely.”

He gestured to the low oak table in front of the balcony and reached for the crystal decanter while she chose a seat, pouring a healthy measure of amber liquid into a glass for each of them. “Here.”

“Thanks.”

For a second it was quiet while they sipped, the sweet burn helping clear his thoughts of any last lingering heat their charade had evoked. Though, he considered charade to be a convenient excuse. Nobody kissed like that if they didn’t enjoy it.

“Why were you following me?” Neah said at last and he lifted his eyes from where he’d been gazing into his drink and instead met her golden eyes, a few shades lighter than the liquor.

“Because I wanted to know what you were doing.”

The gold all-but vanished as she narrowed her eyes. “Obviously. Why? ”

“Because I had an interesting conversation with your sister and I wanted to find out the truth for myself.”

He knew the exact moment his words registered, the way she froze and slowly lowered her glass to thunk against the wood of the table.

There was indecision on her face, her fingers twitching like she fought an internal battle—who would she protect?

Her family? Or her king? If she was anything like her father, then her duty to the crown wasn’t one she took lightly but Zennon…

As if she’d reached the same conclusion that he had, a blade appeared in her hand faster than he could track. He’d known it was a risk to mention Zennon’s heritage, but Neah hadn’t moved yet. Just waited with the dagger in her palm.

“How do you know?” Her voice was hoarse and her fingers were curling and uncurling around the dagger’s hilt. “Let me guess. You were following me again?”

He nodded. “Are you going to do something with that?” He gestured to the dagger and his movement made her flinch.

“Nobody knows,” she whispered and he watched her steadily, letting her see the intentions in his eyes. “You won’t tell?”

“It’s not my secret,” he said simply and she exhaled raggedly. “I just thought it might help to have us on even footing.”

She leaned back in the chair, her posture relaxed, but he didn’t doubt that she was still lethal even in repose. “What do you want to know?”

Were you there that night? Why did you hide it from me? He didn’t ask those questions though, sensing if he did that she’d run. She wasn’t ready yet.

“Why hide who Zennon is to you?”

“For her safety. Next?”

“What were you doing tonight at the tavern?”

This time she hesitated before she answered. “Looking for information.”

He frowned. Why would she?—

She saw the dawning realisation on his face and smirked knowingly. “Yes. I’m a spy. I received a tip that important information would be exchanged at the tavern tonight.”

“Information about what?” He thought back to the men he’d seen in the alley before they’d been caught—before he’d got them caught, he realised.

“Before I came to the palace, I was at the Pembroke’s in the north east. I overheard a plot to hire the hunter’s guild for an attempt on the king.

” Her words were even, but her eyes burned with a fervour he couldn’t place.

Pride? Protectiveness? “The guild takes care of their own rogues, as I’m sure you know.

But whoever bankrolled the hit was liable to try again, with more underhanded measures. Hence, the tavern.”

Wren sat quietly, absorbing the information and letting his mind connect dots he hadn’t had before. He’d been working with only half the information. “Why didn’t Jamison?—”

“Nothing was confirmed yet,” she said smoothly and he bit down on the smile he could feel attempting to break free.

She was so like her father and yet not .

It made her a puzzle he would have liked to pull apart and rebuild.

“All I gathered tonight was that the prospective assassins met in a hidden room and emerged with the same scrolls that the other two men had in the alley where you found me.”

“Someone has been trying to cause unrest within the court,” he confessed. “I’ve been away, necessary travelling,” he said, easily dodging the whole truth. “In my absence, certain… rumours were spread.”

“Oh, so you’re not a drunken manwhore?” This time a full smile graced her mouth. “I never would have guessed.” He wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing. “So, now you know the truth.”

“Do I?” he murmured silkily, taking a mouthful of his liquor and watching her intently over the rim of his glass. “You have a secret sister, and you’re a spy. Is that everything?”

“What more could there be?” She said the words with an air of innocence that made him snort. “Is that not enough?”

She was toying with him, and the only way to get any kind of genuine reaction from her was to shake her with the truth. “You know, Zennon told me something interesting.”

That same closed expression came over her face once more. “Oh?”

“She’s not my mate.”

The words were quiet but they may as well have been a shout for all the reaction they caused. Neah’s face shuttered, an icy countenance taking over as she threw back the last of her drink and stood.

“Zennon doesn’t know what she’s talking about.” The words were swift, confident and measured. Certain . “I think this conversation is over. I won’t sit here while you insult my sister.”

He ignored her protests. “It’s funny, really.

I could have sworn the Goddess had indicated that my mate would be a shifter, and there was Zennon.

Fully human. I assume that means she’s your half-sister at best?

” Neah said nothing in response to his probing, just waited like she knew he wasn’t done.

“What form do you take when you shift, Neah?”

At that, she jerked. It was a fair response, it was considered beyond rude to ask such a thing. But it could also be very telling, as mated shifters took on the same form.

Her father, for example, was a jaguar and so too was his wife. Wren’s mother took the form of a swan, and so too had his father. Whoever Wren’s mate was, they would share his tiger form when shifted.

He hadn’t really expected her to respond to his digging, but he never could have anticipated her reply.

“I don’t know.” The words sounded like they’d been pulled from somewhere deep down inside of her. “I’ve never been able to shift.”

Never been able to shift .

It was unfathomable.

His mouth dropped open and she must have mistook whatever shock he wore on his face for shame because her eyes lowered, shoulders rounding, and then she walked to the door without another look at him.

“Goodnight, Wren.”

“Wait—”

The door closed and he jolted. Never been able to shift . Whatever lurked beneath her skin responded to him, he was sure of it. It didn't matter to him that she had never shifted, but he was also certain that Neah was powerful and whatever form she took… It wouldn’t be held at bay for much longer.