Page 26 of Courting the Tiger King (Romancing the Realms #2)
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
WREN
W ren was… antsy. It wasn’t a feeling he was particularly accustomed to, especially because of a woman. Even one as exceptional as Neah.
“Do you think they’re okay?” he asked Gabe for the tenth time and his friend grimaced as he surveyed the dancers twirling elegantly around the dance floor.
“Yes.”
“But—”
“If you’re that worried, why don’t you just go and—” Gabe stopped, hand halting in mid-air before he could take a sip of his wine. “Ah. There. See? They’re fine.”
Wren’s head whipped around, following Gabe’s line of sight until his eyes caught on the gleam of fabric and the expanse of skin that begged to be made red by his mouth.
Neah, Zennon, and Sonnet, strangely enough, entered the ballroom as if they had not a care in the world. Maybe it was only Wren who could see the tension in Neah’s shoulders, the way her eyes scanned the room for threats as they eased their way through the crowd.
He swallowed, eyes caught on the way the silver material draped across Neah’s body, more provocative than if she’d simply been naked. It was loose but somehow clung to her curves, the shimmering material nearly looking metallic in the lights of the room.
Next to him, Gabriel cursed. A long string of muttered oaths that made even Wren blink, but he realised why when he finally pulled his eyes from Neah to glance over her companions.
He did a double take when he looked at Sonnet, her dress was nearly translucent but masterfully crafted to reveal nothing.
And yet, on Wren’s otherside, he heard Skye choke when Sonnet turned and her bare back was displayed.
This was more than just a late and dramatic arrival, or a display of wealth and beauty. No, this was strategy and it had Neah’s name written all over it. A taunt to whoever had tried to kill Zennon, a fuck you in the language of the court.
“Quite stunning, aren’t they?” An unexpected voice said and Wren blinked, pulling himself out of his own head to acknowledge the newcomer.
“Uncle. Yes, they are… quite beautiful.” Wren wasn’t sure it was a descriptor adequate enough to describe Neah. Dangerous. Fierce. Like the lick of a flame on your skin, or the first droplet of rain from a thunderstorm—Neah was the beginning and the end, and she was his .
Wren prowled forward, eyes locked on her from across the room, watching so intently that he saw the moment she sensed him, the way her breath stuttered, her skin flushing.
They hadn’t had the chance to discuss what had happened between them in the forest, and then the poisoning had happened and derailed that conversation further.
But it was time, now. He just had to hope she’d come to the same conclusion he had, that they belonged together, that they were stronger as one than apart.
Yet, when he grew close, Neah stiffened and turned her back to the room. Wren hadn’t realised that Gabriel and Skye had followed him until Gabe whistled underneath his breath.
“Brutal.”
Wren growled and Gabe raised his hands, palms up, even as amusement gleamed in his eyes.
Zennon and Sonnet, however, didn’t seem to share in whatever had provoked Neah’s ire. Zennon smiled and Wren was pleased to see that she looked far better than when he’d seen her last in the infirmary wing.
“You look lovely,” Wren said and was surprised when a redhead approached the women with a glass of wine in each hand. She handed one to Zennon and Wren squinted before realising who she was. “Romi. Lovely to have you with us.”
Sonnet snickered. “Next time, you should try inviting her then.”
Wren frowned. “I’d thought Romi had departed from our service to escape court life, but of course you’re welcome,” he added and Romi smiled, seemingly unperturbed by gatecrashing.
“Zennon was kind enough to insist I accompany her—and Neah and Sonnet, of course.”
“Of course,” Wren murmured and bristled when Skye knocked into his side when he folded his arms across his chest. They’d opted for their formal jackets, complete with shining buttons and frothy cravats, and Wren knew Skye hated the pomp and restrictiveness of the fitted sleeves.
“How am I supposed to fight in this?” He’d once asked and Wren had barely contained his laughter as he explained to the witch-king that generally one didn’t need to fight at balls. Then again, Wren had been wrong before.
“You know,” Skye said, and Wren felt the energy shift as Sonnet and Skye locked eyes. “Generally you’re supposed to wear clothes to these functions.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll only have to see me naked in your dreams, seer.”
“Neah,” Wren pitched his voice low, tuning out Skye’s retort as he reached for Neah’s elbow. “Will you dance with me?”
She looked up at him, her golden eyes blazing, and Wren dropped his hand. What had changed between them to make her look at him like that? With… disappointment, and rage?
“I will not.”
Whatever this was, they needed to talk about it. Near-death aside, they’d been fine before, hadn’t they?
“It’s a party,” he said, smiling and trying to keep his tone light. “Dancing is customary.”
Her jaw clenched, nostrils flaring, and he knew immediately that he’d said the wrong thing. “If you insist.” She held out a hand and Gabriel, confused and clearly not paying attention, placed his hand into the palm Neah offered him. “Thank you, Gabe, how good of you.”
They made to step away and Wren halted Gabe with a hand to the inside of his shoulder, but his words were for Neah. “What are you doing?”
“Dancing. It’s customary at these events, I’m told.”
He scowled at his own words thrown back at him, but couldn’t stop his eyes from dropping as Neah led Gabe to the center of the room and pulled him close.
Was she trying to kill him?
Gabe, for his part, looked wildly uncomfortable and that was when Wren realised Neah had been holding back the last time they’d danced.
The dancers surrounding them began to back away, giving them space, as they began to move and Gabe glanced down in surprise to find that Neah was easily keeping up with his complicated footwork.
Gabriel was an excellent dancer, but Neah might just be better.
If he’d been hoping to dissuade her, Gabe had miscalculated.
They twirled, the music amping up until Gabe wrapped his arms around her, lifting Neah into the air as they spun, her arms stretched out wide and her hair a golden banner behind her.
Applause broke out as the dance finished and Neah bowed to Gabe, making Wren rankle again. She would be his queen, she needn’t bow to anyone.
He stood still and her eyes didn’t leave his as she stalked closer and then brushed past him without looking back.
His uncle had cornered Neah not long after she passed Wren and he didn’t bother to wait for their conversation to be done before he whirled around and gently took her arm in his and tugged her with him to the privacy of an alcove on the edge of the party. “Sorry, Uncle.”
“What is your problem?” Neah hissed, snatching her arm back out of his grip as soon as they settled into the shadows. “I was having a conversation.”
“What’s going on? You won’t even look at me, and then you dance with Gabe?—”
“I’m just being a good little trophy,” she spat and Wren blinked, not having a clue what she was talking about. “Because that’s what I am, right? A way for you to hold onto the crown, your power? Using your mate bond to further your own status… Is nothing sacred to you people?”
Wren’s mouth opened and then closed. She was right, but also so very wrong. “That’s not?—”
“Don’t lie to me, Wren.”
Was that the first time she’d said his given name? It was, perhaps, not the right moment to be exhilarated by it, but he couldn’t help the curve of his mouth. “ Caritas , please, that’s not true?—”
“So you don’t need me to secure your position? To keep the throne?”
“Well, yes, but it’s?—”
She held up a hand. “I’ll do this, for the crown. For the kingdom. As is my duty, but that is all our bond will be.”
His face fell, anger beginning to burn within him for the first time. “If you’d let me finish a damn sentence, you’d know that this is not about power. Not entirely.”
But her face had already shuttered, any glimpse of vulnerability tidied away until he was surprised a layer of frost didn’t coat her skin. “As you say, my king.”
Wren blew out a breath and didn’t stop her when she walked away. This wasn’t the time or place for this conversation. They could clear all of this up later but, for now, he was irritated and not in the mood to watch her dance with Gabe and Skye all evening.
Instead, he beat a hasty retreat, his mind already whirling with ways he could explain the situation to Neah properly.
But she needed time to cool off and, truthfully, so did he.
They would try this again, maybe with breakfast at hand and definitely less people around, and she would understand. He hoped.