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CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

NEAH

I t had been two days since Neah had spoken with the king, and she was still furious. Not just with Wren, but also herself. He had spied on her, and she’d been none the wiser. It was infuriating, embarrassing . And it didn’t help that Zennon had gone rogue and rebuffed the king.

Two days of stewing had left her foul tempered, and it appeared that Zennon had finally had enough of Neah’s sulking.

“ Must you scowl every time I enter the room?”

Neah grunted in response and ducked when Zennon reached for a nearby slipper and launched it at Neah’s head. “Really?”

“Oh, I’m sorry, was that immature ? I thought that was just the way we did things now, or are you finally going to tell me what happened?

” Zennon folded her arms across her chest and Neah huffed, turning back to her book from her place where she lounged on the bed. “Clearly something is on your mind.”

Neah threw the book down, a little irritated when it flopped closed and lost her page, and growled at her sister. “Do you have something you want to tell me?”

Zennon looked wary. “Your eyes are glowing.” What? Neah blinked and Zennon shook her head. “Still glowing. I’m not sure I’ve seen them do that before.”

“Stop trying to change the subject,” she said stiffly, bending to retrieve her book from down the side of the bed. “You told the king you weren’t his mate.”

“Oh, that.”

“Yes, that .” Neah gaped. “What on earth is wrong with you?”

“It seemed unfair to let him court me, Neah. He took it rather well. In fact, I’d say he was relieved.” Neah swallowed, willing away the heat that rose to her cheeks as her mind flashed back to the way he’d kissed her. “You’re blushing. But, because I’m a nice person, I won’t pry.”

“Nice is not the first word that comes to mind,” Neah muttered and caught the next slipper Zennon threw in mid-air. “The king has been spying on us.”

This seemed to only intrigue Zen, rather than piss her off like it had Neah. “Oh? Has he learned anything of interest?”

“Too much,” Neah growled and then shook her head. “He knows you’re my sister, and that I’m a spy.”

Zennon walked over and sat down on the edge of the bed next to Neah. “Does he know you were in the house that night?”

“No.” She hesitated. “But I think he suspects.”

“Well, this is good, right? He is your mate after all?—”

“We don’t know that,” Neah protested. “I’m just supposed to take his word for it? That he cooked up a spell with Sonnet and the Goddess and that’s that?”

Zennon patted her hand. “Of course not. But you can’t tell me that you don’t feel the connection between you—I’ve seen the way you watch each other, the way you move when you’re together.

But by all means,” Zennon continued, eyes not missing a thing as she narrowed them on Neah’s face, “live in denial.”

It wasn’t denial, Neah reasoned. Just… caution.

Rationality. Why would the Goddess choose a shifter that can’t shift for the king ?

And even if she had done just that, she and Wren were all wrong for each other.

Neah was prickly, impatient, and occasionally bad tempered.

Wren was the opposite of those things, if a little pompous at times—but that was to be expected given that he was royalty.

“Though, you do realise that the lunar hunt is next week? The Goddess has a funny way of getting what she wants, especially during times like the hunt.”

Neah’s mouth went dry. Zennon might have a point.

She’d never participated in a hunt before, but she’d heard plenty about them.

Something about the fullness and brightness of the moon lowered the inhibitions, creating and cementing connections that were previously denied or unknown.

Wild things occurred during the hunt, all of it sanctioned under the light of the Goddess.

“I see no reason for me to attend,” Neah said, hoping Zennon wouldn’t push the issue.

Her sister laughed, flopping back against the sheets and stretching her arms above her head.

“For someone so intelligent, you say some very curious things—especially where Wren is concerned.” When Neah didn’t reply, Zennon continued.

“Anyone of importance will be invited to the king’s hunt, Neah.

It’s considered an honour, and if you decline… ”

She sighed. She hadn’t missed court politics a bit, even if she did thrive playing their games. “And you’re so sure the king won’t be guided to you under the moon’s light?”

There was a beat of silence, as if Zennon was making some kind of decision, before she sat up and took Neah’s hands in her own. “I am certain . I have no interest in the king… or any man for that matter.”

Neah blinked. Oh . “The Goddess has blessed you,” she murmured. “Men are nothing but trouble, you’re far better off without them.”

Zen laughed, her eyes bright as she pressed a kiss to the back of Neah’s hand.

“Thank you for telling me.” The revelation had lightened the mood and Neah found herself relaxing for the first time in days. “I suppose I understand your certainty a little more now,” she mused and Zen chuckled.

“So what are you going to do about the hunt?”

Neah shrugged. “There’s nothing I can do, I suppose. I’ll attend the hunt if I’m asked, and let the rest fall where it may.”

“Even if the king?—”

“Yes,” Neah interrupted, not wanting to hear the words, chooses you, tempt fate and their fickle Goddess. “Even then.”

Neah couldn’t deny that she found the insipid court tea parties fascinating. They were a spy’s wet dream, full of gossip and whispers and even when words weren’t spoken there was much to be said for the dynamics at play within the social circles.

For instance, Lady Fleura had apparently been sleeping with a guard well below her station and, when questioned, hadn’t denied it. Instead, she’d bragged about the girth of his?—

“Enjoying yourself?”

Neah didn’t take her eyes off the crowd.

“Immensely, Your Majesty.” She’d known the instant he’d walked in the room from the reaction of the gathered crowd, a sense of smug self-importance rising up around them that the king had deigned to join them.

More than that, there was a new weight in the air, like he took up space by simply existing, and while it was subtle, Neah wasn’t sure she could go back to not noticing it. “And you?”

“More so now that you’ve acknowledged my existence.”

Neah snorted. “That’s very melodramatic of you. I’ve always known of your existence and have been a loyal, dutiful member of the court.”

Wren hummed and Neah dared a glance at his face from the corner of her eye. “There is nothing a man longs for more than dutiful loyalty,” he mused and her lip twitched as she fought off her smile. “I confess, I’m surprised that you enjoy these gatherings.”

“In my… profession, these gatherings offer a great deal of information. Besides, I have a weakness for gossip and scandal. Though, I’d rather be a connoisseur than its source.”

The king turned to face her fully and Neah smiled, pleased that he’d given in to their game of cat and mouse first, as she also looked him full in the face. “I came to ensure you received my invitation.”

“Hm, it must have passed me by. Are you hosting a gathering ?”

“Of a kind.” His full lips tilted into a small smirk. “I’d like you to join me for the king’s hunt—Zennon too, of course.”

“I see.” Neah kept her face impassive as she snagged a glass of something fizzy from a passing server’s tray.

“It’s a high honour to receive an invitation,” Wren continued. “Let alone a personal invite.”

“Honoured, I’m sure.” She sipped her drink, eyeing him over the rim as she licked a stray droplet from her mouth and swallowed.

His eyes dropped, following the movement, and Neah smirked.

“I’ll definitely consider it,” she promised.

“If no better options present themselves,” she amended and a muscle in Wren’s jaw ticked.

“I’m sure it’ll be worth your while. But by all means, explore your options.” He gave a stiff bow and then waved to a group of ladies across the room. “If you’ll excuse me, I believe my presence is wanted elsewhere.”

Stifling her laughter with another sip of her drink, Neah inclined her head. “Of course, my king. Enjoy the rest of your afternoon.”

Wren walked away, shoulders stiff, and Neah chuckled—he would have to do better than that if he sought to make her jealous.