Vek donned the bloodred finery of a Felshreh prince, an armor more visual than protective despite the enchantments woven into the cloth. The tunic was heavy with red embroidery—an interestingly close match to the engravings etched into his new blade—and his pants were loose and soft to allow unhindered motion. Even the rusty color of his sword belt blended in as though designed to match.
He met his nephew in the hallway. Vek nodded in approval at his nephew’s appearance, for Fen had dressed in Vek’s extra set of court clothes. By all that was Divine, his nephew had earned his place as a prince of the Felshreh, half-human or not. The Unseelie lived by strength, and Fen had more than proved he possessed an abundance of that.
“Where do we find the portal?” Fen asked, his voice unusually quiet.
Vek frowned at his nephew’s reserved demeanor and pale skin. The healer had sworn that the illness had been purged, and Vek had confirmed it. But… “I will handle Ara if you are too unwell to go.”
Fen glared. “I’m going. Where’s the portal?”
“Nowhere external,” Vek said with a sigh. He would have to trust that his nephew wasn’t sick. “Those not of royal blood might need to devise a gate, but we of the Felshreh have another way. The key is held in our blood.”
“Fucking hell…” Fen breathed.
“Connect with me and watch,” Vek ordered.
His nephew would have to lose it over this revelation later.
He barely gave Fen enough time to follow as he grabbed the tiny corner of his mind that connected to home. It was a bond set up by the ancient ones, their blood imbued into the very stones at the heart of their underhill realm. Any of their descendants could return to their land if they heeded the call—a secret that was closely guarded. But few remembered to use it now, especially since it only took the caster back to the cave. Much less useful than the two-way portal they’d set up in more recent times.
Once he had hold of the link to the underhill, Vek picked his destination carefully. Not the comfortable estate he’d built beside the caves near the palace. That would be watched. But there was a small chamber near his home, one he’d been careful not to be seen leaving. With a tiny stretch of power, he connected to the spot and gave a tug.
Fen followed, but clumsily, stumbling before regaining his footing on the chamber floor. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” Fen sent.
“Later,” Vek answered.
Not that he couldn’t relate.
Vek wasted no time reaching for his bond with Dria, the link that had kept him sane since her abduction. He’d known she was alive, but the distance had prevented more information than that. Now her light filled him—a light tinged with grief, anger, and discomfort but one otherwise unmarred.
She latched onto him at once. “Something isn’t right here,” she sent.
Vek paused. “What do you mean?”
“Your lovely sister hasn’t done anything to me,” Dria answered. “Except keep me tied to a chair. I’ve been working the rope against a rough spot on the wood without much luck, but she hasn’t been paying enough attention to notice.”
Vek’s lips quirked. “And that’s a problem?”
“She swears she doesn’t intend to hurt me. Honestly, I think she’s afraid.” Dria’s mental voice turned disgruntled. “Not that it would stop me from incapacitating her if I could figure out this blood lock. I’d hoped she would get her knife close enough for me to cut through the rope, but she keeps running to the door to talk to someone.”
What could his sister be thinking? Connecting to Dria, hearing her voice, cleared his mind enough that Ara’s warning trickled through his thoughts. If you want your mate back, you’ll follow. I’d recommend you use caution, however. Confronting Father will be no simple matter. She hadn’t said he’d be confronting her—a curious point that he’d missed at the time.
Why does Father want her?
Father doesn’t know what he wants, Ara had answered. Think over what I’ve told you very carefully, Vek, or all will be lost.
Had Ara thought to use Dria to force him into a fight with his father? Surely, she knew that Vek would need little incentive. The king had grown unstable, and now everyone would be at risk. At this point, his mother and other siblings would be in danger even if he’d killed Dria and found a way to turn the portal back into the energy his father craved. If the king had gone mad, no one was safe.
Fen nudged him. “What are we waiting for?”
“Talking to Dria,” Vek answered. “Be wary of your mother. She may be on our side, but there is no way to be positive. Her actions are irregular.”
As Vek crept toward the opening to the small cave, he reconnected with Dria. “The trick to the blood lock is iron. There’s iron in blood, and it retains the energy of the Felshreh it once belonged to. Make it sing to your own power. If you are able?”
“I’m not allergic,” Dria answered, and her words sent relief cascading through him. “I’ll work on it. If I succeed in getting out, I think I’ll play along. Ralan said to follow my instincts, and instinct is screaming at me to wait until we’re together to act.”
“Agreed, my love.”
Vek sensed her surprise at the endearment, but he didn’t take it back. He made it a habit not to lie, and in the short time they’d been together, his affection for her had grown stronger with each breath. He’d lived too many centuries not to know himself, and denying emotion did nothing but bring misery. Much of life’s unpleasantness came from stifling the natural.
“I…”
“Later,” Vek said. “Fen and I are coming your way. Be prepared.”
Her thoughts slid from his, though their connection remained. Vek smiled. He had a feeling Dria wouldn’t go back and change their link, not anymore. In spite of herself, she’d at least come to like him. Of that he’d received ample proof.
When they reached the short tunnel leading out into the city, Vek held up a hand for Fen to stop. “Follow me carefully until we’ve bypassed the main palace gates. Then Divine help anyone who tries to step in our way.”
“Permission to fuck people up?”
“So long as they deserve it.” Vek held Fen’s gaze. “You are a prince of the blood as surely as I, and that means you bow to no one except the king, provided we had one. Own it.”
Smiling at his nephew’s surprise, Vek blended into the shadows. He had a mate to find.
Then they had a kingdom to topple.
Use the iron within, he’d said.
Grimacing, Dria tried to blow a loose strand of hair from her eyes. His directive made a certain amount of sense, but it wasn’t as easy to enact as it sounded. Everyone, even elves with strong allergies, had iron in the blood. But it was attuned to life, its natural magnetic and conductive properties adapted to the person’s body before birth.
Even knowing that, she’d never considered how individual that process could be. To her, blood was blood. Leave it to the Felshreh to discover otherwise. But how could she make iron that resonated with Ara’s power turn to her own use? Could she reproduce part of the process?
If she directed enough energy through the blood, would the iron in it attune to her? Only one way to find out. As her captor’s voice rose, Dria prepared. Then Ara ducked out the door, leaving the perfect opportunity. One quick shove of Dria’s own energy, and the blood lock snapped with a harsh, mental click.
Shaking off the shock of the rebound, Dria loosened the physical knot with a simple spell and worked one hand free of the rope tying her wrists. She could see the side of Ara’s arm through the crack in the door, and the woman’s voice grew louder. Dria slipped the fingers of her free hand up her other sleeve and tugged open the tiny, shielded pocket sewn within. A wise mage also carried extra energy crystals in clever places.
“Search faster,” Ara said as Dria palmed the crystal and crammed her hand back into the bindings.
Just in time. The woman marched back in, her expression blank but her impatient stride betraying her frustration. “I’m guessing my bonded isn’t in a hurry to retrieve me?” Dria asked with a smirk.
Ara scowled. “I can’t imagine why not.”
“We haven’t been together long.” Dria lifted a shoulder. “He’s good in bed, but I’m still not positive I like him. You could have done better with your choice of bait.”
“With the way he reacted when I took you, I’d say you are wrong.”
“Only because he sees me as his,” Dria answered. “I can’t imagine he has feelings for me.”
Agreed, my love.
Dria shifted restlessly against her seat as his words ran through her mind. He must have been speaking casually, an idle endearment. Love didn’t just…happen. Her own parents had been together off and on for millennia without settling into true love. She and Vek might share their souls, but love?
No.
Ara’s expression grew distant for a moment. Then a smile twisted her lips. “He’s marching into the palace now. Let’s go see, shall we?”
Dria didn’t bother to answer. Instead, she sat complacently as Ara untied the ropes wound around her chest and ankles, leaving her hands secured at the small of her back. Her captor’s fingers brushed those bindings, and the woman went still. Had she noticed that Dria had broken through the blood lock, or would confidence keep her from checking? Ara pulled her to her feet without a word.
Then she studied Dria’s face for a moment. “If you’re planning trouble,” Ara said, “Be sure you wait for the right time. I’d hate for you to waste your effort.”
Ara knew. She had to.
But she nudged Dria forward without reactivating the lock. Did Vek’s sister want her to escape? Ara wouldn’t have survived in the Unseelie court for so long by being oblivious or foolish, and she would have known better than to leave a mage of Dria’s strength improperly bound.
Be sure you wait for the right time.
Dria tightened her hand around the energy crystal and allowed the woman to direct her out the door and along a narrow stone corridor. She didn’t need to put much effort into guessing where they were going—the throne room. Whether Ara had planned for an assassination or a battle to the death, Dria would be prepared.
Gods, but why did royal courts have to be such a pain in the ass?
Vek marched through the palace without hesitation, Fen at his left hand. No one tried to stop them. It wasn’t entirely unusual that they proceeded without challenge, but there was a hint of surprise in the guards’ eyes that gave Vek pause. Even the courtiers they passed appeared curious at the sight of two Felshreh princes in court garb advancing on the throne room.
Almost as though they hadn’t been expected.
Fen drew the most attention—also no surprise. Every eye followed him. As they passed through the grand entryway leading to the throne room, whispers swelled behind them. Vek knew his nephew well enough now to sense his discomfort, but he had to give Fen credit. The young man betrayed no reaction to the brazen commentary.
Who is that?
He’s a royal Felshreh.
Does Prince Vek have a son?
Wonder if he needs a bedmate?
I’d welcome either or both.
The last comment fascinated Vek the most, for it betrayed no knowledge that he was now mated. Everyone knew a mated Felshreh didn’t stray, so if they’d seen Dria, they hadn’t been told the connection.
“Everyone here seems a bit too…casual,” Fen sent. “Considering.”
“Don’t worry, Fen. They’ll learn you’re taken soon enough. They’ll stop scandalizing your delicate sensibilities once they know.”
“I’m not…” His nephew’s sigh was nearly inaudible in the noisy room. “Fine, in a way I am taken, at least until Maddy and Anna inevitably reject me. But that wasn’t my point. This doesn’t look like a group of people waiting for a showdown. An orgy, maybe, but not a fight.”
Vek’s lips twitched. “Hardly an orgy. See? Delicate.”
“I do not have sensibilities,” Fen grumbled. “Some days, I think I barely have sense. Can’t think of any other reason why I hang around you.”
“No way to argue that one.” They neared the doors to the throne room, and Vek’s hand settled casually on the hilt of his sword. “You’ve always had questionable taste when it comes to mentors. In any case, I’d recommend getting used to the stares if we survive this. Power rules here, and you’re wearing a target.”
“I knew I should have turned down the offer of fancy clothes.”
Vek smiled. “Keep that in mind for next time.”
The guards stepped forward to open the grand doors—just as a shout sounded from within. Vek stretched his senses. Dria was in there. He drew his sword and rushed forward, pushing the surprised warrior out of the way and forcing the door open with a flex of his power. The other guard unsheathed his sword, but Vek halted him with a single glance.
“Let all who wish to see this challenge witness it,” Vek said.
The king held Vek’s mate without cause, and that meant one thing. Vek could confront him without fear of reprisal.