Chapter 6

Dria circled the portal in the middle of the cavern once more as she waited for her first visitors to arrive. She was tired enough that if she stood still, she might doze on her feet. She’d only realized after walking into her room that the stone beds hadn’t been fitted with mattresses, so she’d spent an uncomfortable night tossing and turning atop a pile of her robes. Every time she had managed to drift to sleep, she’d been awakened by some strange sound or another. Why had she insisted on returning last night?

Because she was a prideful idiot, that was why.

She had dressed in her least wrinkled gown and an overrobe depicting the Citadel at sunset, and she had even coiled her shoulder-length hair into a court-worthy braid topped with a circlet. She looked the part of a princess, albeit a slightly rumpled one, but inside, she felt like an imposter. A hungry, grumpy, tired imposter.

The portal’s light shifted, and she tamped down her frustration so she could greet her brother and the others. By the time she’d circled around to the base of the dais, Ralan, Selia, Aris, and Kezari had already stepped through. Her brother lifted a brow and then smirked at the sight of Dria’s formal wear, but she pinched her lips tight and resisted making a comment. If he wanted to dress as though he were spending his day in his rooms instead of greeting a prince of a foreign nation, that was his choice.

Her own selection had nothing to do with Vek being her potential soulbonded.

Much.

Dria shifted out of the way as the group descended, allowing more people to stream in behind them. Several people levitated trunks full of supplies through, and she directed them to the appropriate rooms as quickly as she could. All the while, she was annoyingly aware of the initial group that watched her every move. Particularly her brother.

He’d placed her in charge. Was he surprised that she’d taken initiative? Before trying to sleep, she’d toured the entire complex, deciding where to set everything up. She’d made note of storehouses and sleeping quarters, dining rooms and refreshing rooms. Ralan might have dumped the responsibility on her, but she would own it as though it was granted by the king himself.

Finally, she turned back to the others. “Forgive me for not giving a proper welcome. I’d like to get things set up right away.”

Ralan’s grin widened. “I knew you were the correct choice.”

Dria chose to ignore those words lest she end up pummeling her brother in front of everyone. “How long until the mages and the rest of the warriors arrive?”

“The first of the guards should arrive around midday. The mages were supposed to be with them, but there has been a slight delay. They should be here by evening,” Ralan answered.

“And I don’t suppose you’re going to tell me what I’m supposed to have them do?” Dria curled her toes inside her boots, a handy outlet for frustration that the others couldn’t see. “Father wasn’t specific.”

Ralan shrugged. “Later. We should head up to greet Vek.”

“How…” She shook her head. “Never mind.”

Selia stepped forward. “If you’ll forgive my interruption? We would be pleased to help organize while you are otherwise occupied.”

It took effort for Dria not to bristle at the offer. Nothing but sincerity filled the other mage’s eyes, but Dria couldn’t help feeling intimidated. Selia was a well-respected teacher with several centuries more experience than Dria. A couple of Dria’s peers had trained with her before coming to the Citadel.

“Unless you would rather we wait?” Selia asked softly.

Dria shoved aside that tiny thread of insecurity. “Of course not. We could use things like shelving, clothing racks, tables and other furniture, and decent mattresses. I formed a few shelves in my room with my limited earth magic, but I can’t manipulate stone well enough to do more.”

“I’m afraid I don’t have the required talents to manufacture much of what you need,” Selia admitted, no sign of embarrassment on her face. “But I will do what I can.”

Kezari tipped her head back and peered at the staircase above as though she could see through to the chambers. Maybe she could. “I can form such things. I have seen them in your elven habitations. Soft things, though, I cannot do.”

Selia smiled. “We will figure it out.”

The mage’s husband shifted on his feet with a considering frown. He seemed like a somber man, dark in a way Dria couldn’t place. Haunted, maybe. He shoved his fingers through his brown and green hair in a restless motion, but his gaze was steady when it met hers.

“I will see about coaxing forth a garden in the space we created,” he said.

“Come on,” Ralan interrupted. “Or they’ll be through the entrance before we are there to greet them.”

“Then they’ll wait,” Dria snapped.

But she made haste to thank the others and head toward the stairs. She had a duty to greet her visitors, after all.

Vek wiped his palms surreptitiously against his pants as he stared at the entrance formed in the ground. It was foolish to be nervous, but his heart refused to heed reason. And Fen’s curious glances did nothing to help. His nephew had asked more than once what Vek intended to do after this meeting, but he’d refused to answer. Namely because he didn’t know.

He’d barely slept the night before, and none of his pacing or worrying had helped. Fen’s question kept ringing through his head. Why? Why such a drastic measure? In all the centuries that Vek had worked for his father, the king had never threatened Vek’s other family members. He’d never resorted to anything resembling bribery, and he hadn’t needed to. The reason for the action had always been incentive enough.

What didn’t the king want Vek to know?

“Something wrong?” Fen asked.

An army’s worth of things were wrong, but Vek had no intention of discussing any of them. Not right now. “Just doing a final check of the shield. It should be clear.”

Fen had to know he was lying, but for once, he didn’t try to call him on it. Vek brushed past his nephew and lowered himself through the hole, bracing for the short drop. But the entrance’s spell caught at him slightly, and he landed gently on his feet. More comfortable than their improvised entrance had been.

Vek shifted aside as Fen dropped through. Then they advanced through the small room and into the larger entry chamber where they’d encountered his mate. Ah, she’d been beautiful. Fiery, too. She might have caught him in that paralyzing spell if it hadn’t been so similar to the one Selia had used on him not long ago. He’d been certain to perfect a counter spell to avoid the same scenario.

It was almost too bad. He could always go for a bit of friendly bondage. Well, without his nephew present, of course—that would be too strange even for him. Perhaps he should have left Fen at home this time, since it would be far easier for Vek to find out how amenable Dria might be to such things when he wasn’t babysitting.

But no. Then he might be tempted to truly mate with her, and that would only compound their issues. Better to keep his distance entirely.

“Uncle?”

At Fen’s soft question, Vek realized that his steps had slowed. Curse it. Ignoring his nephew’s knowing look, he picked up the pace once more. He needed to focus. Instead of letting his thoughts drift to sex, he should be scanning the area for any threat. He might have been invited, but that didn’t mean he’d be welcomed.

This time, the princess strode through the door rather than darting from around a column, and she wasn’t alone—her brother was with her. But Vek barely acknowledged Ralan. Instead, he stopped in the center of the room and stared at Dria. Gods above and below. She’d worn court garb. He’d never been able to resist a powerful woman in formal clothing.

He was in so much trouble.

Beside him, Fen snickered, but Vek couldn’t be bothered to tell him off. He was too enchanted by the glint of mage light on the princess’s dark red hair and the shift and flow of her dress over her beautifully curved form. Her overrobe trailed behind her, and the golds and browns of the embroidery almost blended in against the cave floor. The garment seemed to be emblazoned with a nature scene. He’d love to see the design—once he’d peeled the robe from her delectable body.

And the way she held herself, so tall and proud. Princess Dria would take shit from no one, including him. Damn, that was sexy. He enjoyed women when he pleased—but more importantly, when they pleased. Far too many had been drawn to his darkness only to run away when given a chance to explore it. But Dria…she was a woman who would never flee.

As Dria and Ralan halted in front of them, Vek sent out a prayer of thanks for his years at the Unseelie court. Fen might have guessed why he’d stopped, but no one else would. Vek had long learned to keep his expression neutral and his body relaxed but confident. And above all? He’d mastered hiding his desires.

“We meet again,” Ralan said, a hint of…something in his tone. Not quite anger, but Vek couldn’t place it. “I’m given to understand that you were introduced to my sister yesterday?”

A curiously abrupt greeting from a Moranaian, but Ralan had always been an odd one. “Not formally.”

Ralan’s smile was tight but not exactly strained. “Then allow me to do the honors.”

There was no mistaking the startled tilt of Dria’s brows at those words, but she smoothed her expression quickly. Even so, there was tension in the hands she gripped in front of her waist. There was something going on between these two, some subtext that Vek couldn’t define. Interesting…and possibly useful.

“Vek,” Ralan said. “Allow me to introduce Moranai Feraien i Driathen Moreln nai Moranaia.”

“A certain pleasure,” Vek murmured.

He could have sworn she shivered.

Irritation flashed in Ralan’s eyes for a moment, but he continued. “Dria, this is Prince Vekenayeth anh Torekthayed of the Unseelie.”

She smiled. “I am gratified to meet you. Properly.”

Ah, the politely worded rebuke of the Moranaian. He had a feeling she was a master. There was no censure on her face, but he had no doubt that she referred to his incursion the evening before. As well she should. He’d tried to defer the wrongdoing yesterday, but she had been correct in her assessment. Manipulating the truth was beneath him.

“Perhaps this might herald a new start between us,” Vek said. He could use one after bungling their first meeting. “I am not an enemy of your people. Generally speaking.”

She lifted a brow. “Sounds promising.”

Though a litany of curses streamed through his head at his fumbling, Vek forced himself to smile. “I meant only that we are not formal allies. I’m afraid my Moranaian is not flawless.”

Ralan frowned. “If you are here to—”

“You should go.” Dria’s lips thinned into a line as she scowled at her brother. “Since you’ve completed the introduction.”

Pain flickered briefly across Ralan’s face, but he nodded. Oh yes, Vek decided. There was absolutely some conflict between these two. An interesting development. When Vek had visited Moranaia a few centuries before, Ralan had spoken of his sister with affection and an ease that implied no disagreement. Not one like this.

“Fine,” Ralan said. “But know that the strands are murky in this. Tread carefully.”

Dria’s eyes widened at that pronouncement, but she didn’t call her brother back for further explanation when he departed. Vek might have been fascinated by that bit of foretelling himself if a cold wash of unease hadn’t trickled down his spine at the words. He couldn’t know for sure, but he didn’t think the prince had been referring specifically to this meeting. There was more in play than that.

What a surprise.

Once Ralan was gone, Dria glanced between him and Fen. “Now. You stated yesterday that you are here on behalf of your father.”

Vek could have sworn that he’d seen a spark of attraction in her eyes at their last meeting, but she was currently all business. Just as well—or so he tried to tell himself. “We detected an unusual concentration of energy in this location. I was in this cave before the wall restraining Earth’s magic shattered, but I was not privy to the outcome.”

“And why not?” Dria asked, a hint of chill to her tone. “If you were not entrusted to our secrets at the time, I’d say there was good cause.”

Vek ground his teeth together. “I have worked with Ralan, Cora, Selia, and Aris. In fact, I owe them a debt of honor.”

Before she could answer, Fen spoke up. “It’s my fault. Poisoned energy made me ill, and my uncle was too concerned for my health to risk staying here. If not for me, he would have his answers already.”

Her expression softened at that. “I see. Nevertheless, there’s no reason why the Unseelie should be given access to our secrets.”

“This is not Moranaia.” Vek leaned closer. A mistake, as her sweet honeyed scent reached him again. Just like before, his traitorous body hardened, but he managed to hide his reaction. “Whether it is truly your domain is up for debate.”

“Well, it isn’t yours. The Unseelie have no claim here.” Dria’s throat worked, and her voice went breathy. “You have no claim.”

Had interest flickered in her eyes? By force of will, he kept himself from taking a step back. Or forward. “Are you planning some action against me? I assure you I am more than prepared for any type of assault.”

Vek could have sworn he heard Fen snort at the double meaning.

Dria’s lips parted, her cheeks going pink. “I—”

“By the gods, Dree.” Ralan’s voice cut across the room from the direction of the doorway. “Bring him down to the portal. I wouldn’t have introduced him if I found him untrustworthy.”

At that, her skin filled with more color until her face almost matched her hair. But it wasn’t entirely embarrassment. Oh, no. The bulk of it was fury, and that was more than warranted. Couldn’t Ralan see how he undercut his sister’s authority, or was he simply too blind to notice?

Dria glared over her shoulder at Ralan. “Interrupt me one more time, and I swear to all that is holy that I will suspend you over the central chamber in a week-long holding spell. I’m sure your bonded will understand. After all, she has to live with you.”

Vek’s lips twitched. “Don’t be so hard on him, princess. He must have grown soft living amongst the humans.”

Ralan’s eyes narrowed, but it was worth it to see humor on Dria’s face. “This is none of your business, Vek,” Ralan said.

“He’s the one I was talking to, not you.” Dria huffed as she turned her back on her brother. “Tell me, Prince Vek. Can you give me any reason why I should trust you?”

“Honestly?” Vek shrugged, unwilling to lie even if he didn’t volunteer the entire truth. “Not really.”

Her brows rose. “Your negotiation tactics could use some work.”

“Though there is one thing,” he found himself saying. “You are mine.” He captured her gaze and held it. “And I am yours.”

Damn, he hadn’t intended to say that.

Could the situation get any worse?