A maelstrom of emotions froze Dria in place. Surely to all the gods he hadn’t just laid claim to her in the middle of a cave on the second day they’d met. Not in any binding way, but… She shook her head, but the motion didn’t clear her confusion. Even Vek himself appeared stunned, his mouth hanging open as though she had been the one to drop that little blast spell between them.
“Have you lost your senses?” she hissed.
Vek twisted his fingers in his short white hair. “It is entirely possible.”
His nephew laughed, his chuckles echoing around the large chamber until she wanted to scream. Dria refused to look back to see how her brother was reacting. Miaran. What was she supposed to do now? Whether he’d intended to or not, Vek’s claim complicated matters. If she admitted their potential bond, she would have far less reason to openly mistrust him.
Soulbonds happened between people who were perfect complements, didn’t they? To question his character would be to cast aspersions on her own. After all, how often did such links go wrong? She’d never heard of a bond being broken or denied, although she’d always been taught it was possible.
She could reject his words, but it would be a great dishonor to lie about such a thing—not to mention hurt any chance of a future relationship.
“You aren’t Moranaian,” she finally muttered, stalling.
A sardonic smile twisted his lips. “I believe we have indeed established that.”
Gods, she wanted to hit him. “I’ve not heard of the Unseelie practicing the soulbond.”
“We don’t,” he said, and her heart lurched. Then Vek eased closer, so near she could almost feel his body heat. “But we blood elves mate. Not many outside of our people know. You see? I’ve shown you a bit of trust by sharing a secret.”
A lump formed in her throat as she stared into his pale eyes. His energy brushed against hers until she trembled, and there was no mistaking the edge of desire humming through his aura. “If you attempt to force some kind of link between us, I will not be pleased,” she whispered.
Quick as thought, he traced a finger softly down her cheek. “Ah, dearest, my kind has no need of trickery. Our mates are willing participants in the process.”
Though her mouth went dry, Dria brushed his hand away. She wouldn’t be mesmerized. “A fine coincidence. So are ours. Shall I recite the bonding words to begin?”
He took a hasty step back at that, and she almost laughed. Vek might recognize the truth, but that didn’t mean he intended to act on it. He was using the link to get past her defenses. Well, she could end that little game. Ralan obviously wanted her to show him the portal, and Vek was desperate enough to see it that he would flirt with her. She might as well guide him to the main chamber so he could satisfy his curiosity and then send him on his way.
Hopefully for good.
Still stunned, Vek trailed behind Dria through another empty room. What in the infinite hells of darkest creation had he been thinking? He didn’t want a mate, even one as magnificent as Dria, but he’d almost called her bluff and told her to begin. She’d been visibly angry at his silence, but he hadn’t been able to say a word lest he somehow end up begging.
Fen gave him a mental prod, and when Vek established the connection, he winced at the humor suffusing his nephew’s surface thoughts. “You’re a fucking idiot,” Fen sent.
“I am aware,” Vek answered dryly. “But I suppose your mind is always clear around your potential mates?”
That certainly ended Fen’s taunting. He cut off the connection with a snap so sharp Vek almost found himself chuckling despite the situation. The truth hurt—or so he’d always heard. But it was usually what the listener most needed to hear. Why else would it cause such pain and chaos?
In silence, Vek followed Dria as she marched along a short corridor and started down a flight of steps. If one could call the massive spiral to the floor of the cavern a mere flight. His mouth went dry as he peered over the side to examine the glowing archway below, but he couldn’t bear to study the structure from this height. Instead, he eased closer to the wall and glanced down the corridors that branched off at each level.
Despite that, his unease grew with each step, although he wasn’t typically afraid of heights. He lived in the underrealms, his very home built into a cave much like this one. And while the absence of railing here seemed a reckless oversight, it shouldn’t account for his current state. He could always use a suspending spell if he tumbled over the side.
At the base of the staircase, Dria didn’t so much as pause. But Vek’s body seized so suddenly that Fen crashed into his back with an oomph.
“What the hell?” his nephew muttered.
Vek couldn’t answer. He could barely even breathe. Panic and fury surged through him as his magic and his body were frozen, the hold so complete no simple spell could be to blame. Neither Selia nor Dria had done this.
Then his magic began to drain away, the power sucked from his blood until his very veins burned and his muscles chilled and spasmed.
They’d brought him down to kill him.
Someone cried out, but he couldn’t move his eyes to see who. All he could focus on was Dria. She spun around, and surprise wiped away any traces of her anger. She stared for a moment before rushing forward, magic glowing in her hands. He wanted to tell her not to touch him. To back away. But he couldn’t.
“Dria, stop,” Ralan called from across the cavern. “That spell is not of Moranaian design.”
She halted an arm’s length away. Her forehead furrowed as she scanned his body, but she didn’t try to use the magic gathered in her palms. “What is this?”
Another figure came into view—the dragon in her elven form. Vek would have scowled if it were possible. Of course she was involved in this. He should have known. But even as he had the thought, he noticed the confusion pulling down her brows. Could she be innocent of this treachery?
A furious hiss sounded from behind him. Fen. Fortunately, his nephew was wise enough not to step down beside him. “Release my uncle,” Fen snapped. “You have broken the peace of this meeting. After I defended you all to him, too.”
“Have we?” Aris stepped forward, a glowing green sword in hand. “There must be a reason Vek triggered this spell. Selia, did you—”
“This isn’t something I set up,” the woman in question said.
Vek’s vision began to waver as the pain picked up in intensity. Fuck, it felt like his veins were being ripped out. He tried to shout. Scream. Beg. Anything to make it end.
Then it did.
Before Dria could decide what to do, Vek crumpled. His nephew managed to catch him in time to keep him from hitting his head on the stairs, but just barely. Grunting, Fen hauled Vek to safety, stretching him out beside the staircase before turning to face Dria. She’d never seen the younger man as anything but affable, but he was far from that now.
Not with fangs bared and earth magic rumbling around him like an earthquake threatening to break.
“What did you do?” he snarled.
Dria opened her mouth to explain, but she had no explanation for this. She’d probed the spell as best she could, searching for some hint on how to break it, but it hadn’t been like anything she’d seen before. Similar in parts, but the power of the spell itself had been blinding, too intense to allow close scrutiny. “This isn’t my fault.”
A small army of stones rose to circle around Fen’s head as he glared at her. “If my uncle dies—”
“Stand down, boy.”
The rough, sardonic voice sliced through the air out of nowhere, and the rocks spinning around Fen dropped to the ground in a small skittering avalanche. Dria whipped around, widening her defenses to include the helpless Vek out of instinct, in time to see a man step out of the shadows near the cavern wall. She knew two things at once—he hadn’t been there a moment before, and he was not one of the elves.
Flames crackled through his hair and glinted like suggestions in his eyes as he glided closer. He paused to nod at Aris and Selia, who stared in shocked recognition, and then smirked at Ralan before continuing in Dria’s direction. Her skin prickled as his focus landed on her. Absolutely not an elf.
“You are correct. Although…” The stranger lifted a shoulder. “Well, we could spend hours detailing my lineage.”
Dria swallowed against a mouth gone dry. “Who…?”
He laughed. “I am Loki, god of a great deal of shit. Doesn’t matter.”
“Is this your fault?” Fen called from behind Dria.
She wanted to advise him to remain silent, but she couldn’t manage to form words herself.
“When Vekenayeth anh Torekthayed approaches the portal, it will be with pure intent or not at all,” the god said. “Take him from this place until he knows the entire truth.”
None of this made sense. She was on Earth. She’d always heard that human gods no longer walked amongst their people, at least not openly. Even Moranaian deities rarely did so.
“I don’t know if I’d call myself a god of anyone in particular, including humans,” Loki said as though she’d spoken aloud. “But that’s not important. There is a great deal awakening, and not all of it is good. There’s only so much crazy even I can deal with.”
Vek’s groan echoed from the staircase.
“Don’t let him back in here until he has learned the truth from his father.” The twin flames of Loki’s gaze enthralled her, freezing her answer before it could form. “Beyond that, well…don’t offer him blood until you’ve started the bond. And try not to wait too long.”
No amount of training could peel her tongue from the roof of her mouth. The power pouring from the god before her was staggering, and she got the impression from his relaxed demeanor that he was toning it down. Unbelievable.
Then it was over.
He spun away, nodding at the others as he strolled toward the edge of the cavern—and disappeared. Staring at the spot, Dria sucked in a deep breath. That was… She clenched her hands until her nails bit into her palm. Intense didn’t cover it.
And that wasn’t even considering the questions the god’s words had raised.
Finally, she was able to turn back to Vek and Fen, who sat on the stairs beside his uncle with a dazed look on his face. Fen blinked several times, though it was a moment before he appeared able to focus. It was almost as though he’d been physically stunned, but she hadn’t sensed any form of attack magic.
“Guess I’d better haul his ass home somehow,” Fen muttered. “I knew this was a bad idea.”
Suspicion trickled into the wake of the god’s passing. “Vek was here to cause trouble,” Dria said.
“No,” Fen insisted. But then he winced. “Not this time, anyway. The Unseelie King isn’t happy about whatever you have going on down here.”
Their earlier conversation flicked through her mind.
“Tell me, Prince Vek. Can you give me any reason why I should trust you?”
“Honestly?” Vek shrugged. “Not really.”
He’d all but told her he had bad intentions, then distracted her with talk of their bond. Gods, she was a fool. Vek had been sent here to spy—at the least. There was doubtless more than that if a god had interfered, but she had a feeling Fen wouldn’t give her more information. He’d probably said more than he should have already.
“Get out of here,” Dria said through gritted teeth. “And tell him to stay away this time.”
Naomh didn’t wait for his brother to answer the knock. Meren deserved no courtesy for his treachery, and in any case, Naomh had done far worse than a bit of rudeness. Both of them had. Naomh shut the door as quietly as his ill temper allowed before marching toward Meren. The useless eltor. He sat draped in his favorite chair without a sign of concern on his face.
“Here without Caolte?” Meren asked in a mocking lilt. “I thought the bastard did nothing but follow at your heels and search for imaginary threats.”
Though the words rankled, Naomh refused to be distracted. “You may speak to our brother about his activities later. You know perfectly well why I’m here. First, you worked with the Unseelie to murder perfectly innocent Neorans who could have been cured of the energy poisoning. Now, you think to strike the Moranaians?”
Meren waved a hand. “They’ll stand in the way of any reasonable action we seek to take. If they retreat to their own domain, they’ll remain unharmed.”
“Have you grown so dishonorable that you’ll fight against your own blood?” Naomh took a step forward, his hands clenching. If his brother couldn’t see reason in this, he was beyond hope. “I have a son among the Moranaians. Your nephew—”
“I heard the rumors.” Meren straightened in his seat. “But I wasn’t certain you’d be fool enough to claim him. Bad enough that our father dishonored our mother by sleeping with that Unseelie woman, disgracing our blood with Caolte. Now you further weaken our heritage by breeding with a Moranaian. We are a noble house, Naomh. Not that you seem to remember.”
Naomh kept his grip on his temper and his magic, but it wasn’t a sure thing. Not for long. “Do you want our people to return to the surface badly enough to resort to this darkness?”
Meren shoved to his feet. “And are you a fool? Have you seen the queen recently? No, of course not. Very few have since she has been near death for months. In the meantime, her daughter botches every decision she attempts to make. Now, there are rumors of true power on Earth. Magic like the old days, and bloodlines awakening. Why should we remain here, our people withering and dying? Our queen dying?”
The vehemence in his brother’s voice caught Naomh off guard, and for a moment, it almost swayed him. But the matter wasn’t as simple as Meren made it seem. “There are honorable methods we might use to meet that goal.”
“If you care to wait a few decades. Or centuries.” Meren lifted a brow. “Haven’t you enjoyed your little jaunts to the surface, after all? You might not have physically touched the ground, but you haven’t exactly been innocent.”
He wasn’t wrong, much to Naomh’s regret. Naomh had believed he could use the disgraced Prince Kien of the Moranaians to stop what he’d sensed was coming—the humans’ discovery of the fae races. He’d hoped that he could find his missing soulbonded so long as he was free to roam without human interference, but the plot had spiraled out of control, threatening the existence of all Naomh had hoped to protect.
That was why he had to stop this.
“Leave off with the Unseelie,” Naomh said. “They have no care with their methods.”
Meren laughed. “And you do?”
Naomh winced. Yes, he’d helped Kien with the initial energy poisoning. It had been intended to keep the fae in the underhill, not harm them. But few could work with darkness to create good, not without getting caught in the miasma. How well he had learned.
“Harm Kai and you will regret it.”
His brother only smirked. “Stand in my way, and you will, as well.”