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CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

NEAH

Z ennon and Sonnet were lounging on Neah’s bed when she walked into her chambers. Zen immediately jumped up to greet her, rushing over to wrap her in a hug that surprised Neah, whereas sparks jumped at Sonnet’s fingertips from Neah’s sudden arrival.

Sonnet grimaced, an apology on her face that Neah acknowledged over Zennon’s shoulder as she returned her sister’s embrace. Sonnet had been through a lot, the majority of which Neah could only imagine. It was only natural that she’d be a little jumpy. Was this the longest she’d stayed in one place?

Zennon squeezed Neah before withdrawing and smiling. “I feel like I’ve barely seen you lately.”

“Sorry,” she said, warmth heating her cheeks.

It was true that she’d been spending a lot of time with Wren, both because she wanted to get to know him further and because her acceptance of their bond had made it difficult to keep their hands off each other.

Though, really, a few days of absence was nothing in the face of the long times apart Neah usually endured as part of her work. “I, um, have news.”

Zennon squealed, clapping her hands excitedly as she spun to face Sonnet and bounced on the heels of her feet. “I told you!”

“I haven’t said anything yet,” Neah protested and the two women laughed as Sonnet flicked a coin to Zen. “Seriously? You placed bets?”

Sonnet shrugged. “Sometimes a little wager can make things more interesting—and we were getting bored watching you and Wren tiptoe around each other. You are doing the bonding ceremony, right?”

Neah crossed her arms and cocked a hip as she glanced between the two of them before sighing in exasperation. “Yes.”

“Excellent. Congrats, yada yada. Looks like I have a ceremony to prepare for,” Sonnet said, eyes going distant like she was already picturing her to-do list. “And don’t feel bad about taking my money,” she added, grinning at Zennon. “I stole that from Skye, so it’s his problem.”

A startled laugh fell out of Neah. “When can we start a wager on whatever is going on with you and those two boys?”

Sonnet sniffed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” But her lip twitched and Neah smirked, deciding to let it go for now. “Did Zen tell you that Romi stayed here again last night?”

It was an unsubtle change of subject, but Neah allowed it, too intrigued to do anything else as she dragged over a chair from the parlour and plopped it down at the foot of the bed.

“Oh really ?” She narrowed her eyes on her sister, who blushed and fidgeted with the hem of her blue dress. “Kept that one quiet, Zen.”

“It’s not like that,” she said, voice slightly too high to be believable. “I mean, do I like her? Sure. Of course. She’s beautiful, and kind, and funny—” Zennon cut herself off, a red flush filling her face. “But she was here as a friend.”

Neah shared a look with Sonnet, reading the doubt on the witch’s face that she knew was probably on her own too. “Ten coppers say they’re wed before the year is out.”

Sonnet snorted. “Two silvers say within the next two months.”

Zennon huffed, folding her arms across her chest. “I’m sitting right here, you know.”

“We know,” Neah and Sonnet returned in unison.

They dissolved into laughter and casual chatter and by the time Neah left to go and find Wren, much to the girls’ teasing, she was feeling a lot more relaxed.

Maybe she’d been a little more worried about public opinion to this bonding ceremony than she’d realised.

The problem with marrying a king was that everyone had an opinion and suddenly felt it was their place to share it.

But she and Wren had been fated, ordained by the Goddess herself.

Anyone else could go and fuck themselves.

The vague mention of anyone fucking themselves had her overreactive instincts perking up, eager to hunt down Wren and prove just how hers he was. The door to her chambers had only just closed behind her when, distracted, she walked into a solid chest.

Cursing under her breath, Neah looked up and then blinked. “Castor. My apologies, my head was elsewhere.”

Wren’s uncle smiled. “No matter at all, the fault was mine.”

She glanced behind her to the door she’d just closed. “Were you looking for me?”

“I suppose I was,” he said, and the odd phrasing made her brows furrow before she cleared her expression. “I heard the good news from my nephew, so naturally I wanted to offer my congratulations.”

“Thank you.” She straightened, finally pulling up her composure and letting the easy mask of Lady settle over her. “That’s very kind of you.”

“I am a kind man,” he said, a small smile twisting his mouth.

“Which is why I feel the need to warn you that any… secrets you may be harbouring might not be well received by the king.” He glanced at the door to her back and for reasons she couldn’t quite place, the hair on the back of her arms stood to attention.

“I’m close with your father, of course, and being in my position… Well, one hears things, my dear.”

For a second, she could only stare. What was he trying to say? “If you’re referring to my work ,” she said, emphasising the word with a narrowing of her eyes, “Wren knows all about it.”

“And your sister? Does he know about that too?” Castor leaned in, as if he was relaying a secret, pity shining in his eyes.

“He does,” she said slowly. “But how do you ?” If the king’s uncle knew, what were the chances that others did too?

There hadn’t been any more attempts on Neah’s life and she wondered if it was because whoever was doing this knew that she could handle herself.

So if they couldn’t get to her directly…

She swallowed hard and took a step closer, invading the Lord’s space as she looked deeply into his eyes. “Who else knows about Zennon?”

He shrugged, a gleam in his eye that made all her senses prickle. “I can only guess?—”

Neah closed the remaining distance, shoving Castor into the stone wall to their left and fisting her hand in the front of his crisp white shirt. “Enough games. Tell me how you know about her. Who told you?”

He swallowed, eyes flashing wide. “Lady Neah, I must insist—” His words were cut off by the growl that escaped her, claws appearing at her hands and fur rippling across her skin.

“The Queen Mother,” he gasped, eyeing the place where her claws had pierced the material of his shirt.

“I don't know who else she told, I swear it!”

The Queen Mother . But why would Wren’s mother spread this information? What did she have to gain? Neah was missing something, she was sure of it.

She relinquished her hold on the Lord and stepped back as the shift she’d been holding at bay took her over. Heavy paws hit the ground and she snarled at Castor as he cowered against the wall. The warning, she hoped, was clear.

When she roared again, he fled and the door to her back creaked open. Sonnet peeked out and grimaced. “I thought you left ages ago.” Neah’s grumble made the witch raise her hands. “Okay, okay. Good kitty. Don’t eat me.”

Neah made a show of displaying her teeth and licking her lips before she nodded in the direction Castor had fled.

“Someone was here? Okay. Do you want me to—” She made as if to step out of the door and Neah snapped lightly at the air, making the witch freeze in place.

“Okay. Got it. I’ll stay with Zennon.” A whine escaped Neah and Sonnet’s face dropped all pretenses of civility as she looked into Neah’s eyes. “I won’t let anything happen to her.”

Neah believed her.

The door closed softly behind Sonnet and Neah was already moving. She needed to find Wren so they could discuss what was going on. Maybe he could talk to his mother and get some answers. Neah had a bad feeling that whatever they’d faced so far—it was about to get worse.

She followed the pull in her chest that she knew would lead her to Wren, stalking through the corridors of the palace without looking at the court gaping around her.

The bond was stronger in this form, pulsing lightly as a tangible thread between them, whereas in her human form it was more like a gentle pull that was subtle enough she could have missed it if she hadn’t been looking for it.

But after the ceremony, their bond would be full fledged, linking them together so their hearts would beat as one.

Two halves united. The bond was different for everyone, or so she’d heard, with most able to sense emotions of their bonded and others were supposedly able to speak mind-to-mind.

She didn’t much mind what form their bond took, as long as it satisfied Wren’s curse.

After three turns in a row, Neah knew where she must be headed—the great hall where she’d first found Wren when she’d arrived at court.

Passersby grew few and far between the deeper she descended into the palace’s maze, until the thread between them grew taut and she rounded the end of the corridor to find Wren waiting.

He looked up, as if sensing she was there, but was unable to see her until the crowd of people exiting the hall parted for her and she emerged from their centre still on four paws.

He grinned, eyes lighting up in the way that made her heart beat faster, and Skye and Gabriel shared identical looks of affectionate exasperation.

“Really? You two can’t go an hour without running off to fu—” Neah nipped at the hand Gabe was waving around and he yelped, not having seen her approach.

“Didn’t anyone tell you that biting isn’t nice?

Bad kitty,” he said and hissed, the words reminding her of Sonnet and making her huff out a laugh.

She looked to Wren and he frowned as he read whatever emotion was showing in her eyes. Without warning, the shift rippled over her and Wren growled as it left her naked in the middle of the room.

He whipped off his shirt, tugging it roughly over his head before dropping it down over hers, the tight set of his jaw telling her he was struggling as much as she was with this turn of events.

She was barely clothed, and Wren’s bare chest was just out of reach, the hard ridges of corded muscle making her swallow.

Skye and Gabriel had turned their backs to offer her some privacy and she called for them to turn now that she was covered, only to be taken aback by the snarl of warning Wren let loose when his friends set eyes on her.

“Wren,” she chided and he sucked in a ragged breath.

“Sorry, sorry.” His voice was strained. “Ah, maybe you could move back a bit?” Gabe and Skye obeyed, retreating a few steps, and then smirking when Wren called out, “Yeah… A bit more?”

Once they were nearly all the way across the room, Wren relaxed and Neah bit her lip to hold in her laugh. The territorial instincts when a bond is first accepted were notoriously powerful and, frankly, she was surprised she hadn’t had any jealous fits yet.

Feeling more settled with the distance of the other males, Wren took a few deep breaths before looking at her. “Are you okay?”

She shook her head and regretted it when it clearly made Wren’s instincts kick into overdrive again.

He was there in a flash, running his hands over every inch of her skin to check for injuries until she shoved him away.

“I’m fine, physically. Sorry,” she said and then, after seeing the hurt on his face, added, “You were touching me and you don’t have a shirt on and, well, I didn’t come here for that . ”

His hurt instantly faded and was replaced by a cocky swagger that made her roll her eyes. Worse, Gabe and Skye were laughing at them as Gabe relayed what was being said to Skye, thanks to his shifter hearing.

“Your uncle was lurking outside of Zennon’s door. He knew who she was, and he knew what I used to be.”

That stopped the laughter and Wren frowned. “That’s… odd?”

It was, but ‘odd’ didn’t seem like a strong enough word. But this was Wren’s uncle, she couldn’t just say that to him because of a vibe she’d picked up. Just something about the whole encounter seemed off.

“I… questioned him,” she said, shooting a glare at Gabe when he laughed across the room. “He told me that your mother was the one who mentioned Zennon’s heritage.”

Wren’s brow furrowed. “I’ll talk to her. But you don’t honestly think…”

She shrugged. “I don’t know what to think, Wren.

” Obviously she didn’t want his family to be responsible for the attacks and the attempts to weaken the king, but it had to be someone with motive and access.

What better motive than to steal the crown?

And what better access than already being a royal?

It could explain why the attacks had all been indirect too, not wanting to risk the crown by openly committing treason.

As if the same thoughts had just occurred to Wren, he nodded. “I’ll talk to her,” he repeated, tone more certain. “I’m sure there’s an explanation.”

“I’m sure there is,” she said softly, reaching for his hand and squeezing it. She only hoped that explanation had nothing to do with overthrowing a king.