Page 11

11

Lorant

“ I ’m here to inform you that Queen Reyla will not be coming to the tower tonight,” Surren said from behind me.

I’d heard him climbing the stairs leading to the top of the highest castle tower, his footsteps too heavy to be hers, and I'd ground my teeth together.

She. Was. Refusing to come to me.

Again!

Merrick told me things were alright, that she was listening, speaking with him. She'd even allowed him to touch her.

Him. Not me.

Never me.

“My lord?” Surren shuffled his boots on the stone floor. “Did you hear me? I said that Queen Reyla would not?—”

“Yes, yes, I did,” I snapped, spinning, my irritation a tidal wave roaring toward shore.

This man was the perfect choice to head up her guard, because he did not flinch at my scowl or the blast of my power.

“Where is she now?” I barked, though I already knew.

He blinked. “I'm afraid I cannot divulge her current location, Lord Lorant. You know this.”

I advanced on him, my hands lifting. “I am also her protector.”

“You are.” His chin lifted and his steely gaze met mine. “But I am the head of her guard. No one, and I mean no one other than the king is entitled to this information.”

“Then go.” I thrust my hand toward the stairs. “Leave me alone.” Where I could wallow.

She wasn't coming to me tonight.

She would never come to me .

But I could go to her.

Surren retreated, his boots thudding on the stairs and along the halls at the base until I could no longer hear him.

I tugged in power and sent it back out, drawing in the night air around me, cloaking myself in it.

As I stomped down the stairs to the base of the tower, I built my fog, tugging moisture and the very ether itself from the cold walls of this stark, lonely place. I stalked through the halls, curling my fog in lazy tendrils, gliding it along the smooth floors. It wasn’t natural, not like the thin mist that whispered at the castle walls after a cleansing rain. No, this was all mine. I wove shadows with the dampness drawn from the air, thickening it, bending it to my will.

Each step I took made my irritation build, and I fed my anger into the murky gray. When I reached Reyla's floor, I drew my fog in, enfolding it around me—hiding me from view. The vapor muted the sound of my boots and concealed me. I was invisible. Quiet. Just as I intended to be.

If Reyla thought she could avoid me, she would find herself sorely disappointed.

I fed more power into the fog, and it thickened, swirling, pulsing in rhythm with my anger. She didn’t want to come to the tower? Fine. I’d go to her. While Merrick might coax her with soft smiles and horig-sweet words, I wasn’t made to beg. She would feel my wrath whether she wanted to or not, and she would respond to me .

Her guards didn’t deserve to feel the brunt of my mood, but neither did they stand a chance of stopping me. With my elemental aegis cloaking my shape, I slipped past Surren and the others stationed near her suite, their sharp-eyed watch not keen enough to track something as inevitable as the night itself. Their soft chuckles at some private joke faded as I reached the solid frame of her door without so much as a ripple in my stride.

Slanting out with my power, I created a sound on the other end of the hall. The scrape of a boot, then someone calling out for assistance.

“Go.” Surren waved to one of Reyla's guards.

The woman strode down the hall. “Who's there? Reveal yourself.”

Surren and the others took a few steps behind her, though they remained close to Reyla's door. With only one other suite on this level, and Merrick “asleep” for the night, they were justified in believing they could take their eyes off her entrance, if for only a few seconds.

I struck, cracking open her outer door and slipping inside her sitting area.

The remnants of her presence hung like static in the air, though the room remained undisturbed, with only a faint silver- bluish glow leaching in through the closed drapes to outline the cushions scattered on the furniture arrayed in front of the cold, empty hearth.

At my command, my shadows coiled tighter around me as I moved forward, looking for her.

Farris lay on the sofa. He cracked one eye open, and sensing me, his tail throbbed. It quickly stilled, and his eyes closed when sleep tucked him away.

I peered around, not finding Reyla. No ladies-in-waiting, either, who must've been dismissed for the night. After all, if Reyla wasn't coming to me, she would no longer need them.

My fingers twitched. Fury twisted its claws around my ribs, and I clenched my jaw as an emotion I couldn’t name stormed through me. It was an aching thing, bleak and unfamiliar. It humiliated me, gnawed at me with every passing tick of time. Something feral surged in its wake, sending me toward the closed bedroom door on my left.

The fog flowed with me, silent and cloying, mocking the sharp snap of my temper as I reached for the door. The panel gave with a faint creak as I pushed it inward.

Dark.

The air tasted like the rain falling in bitter tears outside. Her bedroom felt gloomy and heavy, as if the very room was determined to suffocate any sliver of warmth. Gray light seeped past the edge of her closed curtains, framing the bed…

…Where I heard a rustle, barely there, but unmistakable. My knuckles whitened as I clenched my fists at my sides. I stepped closer, keeping my pace as soft as her breathing. I stopped, locking my gaze on her form curled up on the bed. She lay on her side, buried beneath the blankets, her back to me as though the mere act of facing away would keep me from confronting her .

Pathetic. The thought stomped through me, its trail as sour as bile.

As I stood beside her bed, glaring down at her, words coiled inside me, harsh and barbed. They raked their way up my throat.

“So, this is what avoidance looks like.” My voice came out clipped and venomous, splitting the quiet like the crack of a branch. “You. Did. Not. Come to me.”

She grunted.

My laugh tore itself from me, sharp and hollow enough to send lethal pain through my heart. “I can't say that I'm surprised. I’m used to it by now. If someone wins your trust, it’ll never be the man who would willingly step into the shadows for you. Never the viper you’ve chained in the tower at the top of the stars.”

I expected her to roll over and snap at me to leave her alone. For her to spit defiance. I burned for her wrath because I’d take that over indifference. Anything but?—

A sound stopped me cold. Her tiny, weak moan broke through the room, faint and rough-edged like a blade dulled from overuse.

Reyla shifted beneath the blanket, her body curling tighter, her hands tangling in the folds of fabric. The sound came again, longer, cracked and utterly defeated.

The sharp edges lashing their way through me dissolved in an instant.

“Reyla.” Her name snagged in my chest, and my fists uncoiled at my sides.

Her scent, wildflowers and rain-soaked fields, hit my senses like a knife to the gut. I pulled the blanket back enough to reveal her tangled auburn hair and pale face pressed against the pillow.

She hissed, rubbing her belly, and my instincts took over. I climbed onto the bed and over her, my knees planting on either side of her. I gently cupped her face, tilting it toward me .

“Wildfire,” I breathed, terror crushing my ribs. “Look at me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

Her lashes fluttered against her flushed cheeks, sliding upward, and her murky gaze met mine. “Lorant. What are you doing here?”

She sounded too weak, too damaged to move or resist me. And that unleashed the beast inside me.

“Who touched you?” I snarled, my feral gaze slashing around the room. “Who hurt you? I. Will. Destroy them.”