I moved through the hall of one of the upstairs floors of the Red Pearl, a
bottle of whiskey I’d helped myself to in one hand and a canvas sack in the other. The floor wasn’t quiet. Moans and grunts came from each side of the hall, so many of them it was hard to tell exactly which chambers were in
use and which weren’t.
Taking a swig of the whiskey as I reached the room designated for meetings, I didn’t bother knocking. I pushed open the door.
The smell of sex was the first thing to reach me.
Then the soft, breathy gasp of pleasure turning to surprise.
Lowering the bottle as I kicked the door closed behind me, my gaze swung to the bed—the very same bed I’d laid Penellaphe on.
It was definitely not her on that bed.
The woman on her knees was all lush curves, but her hair was a color somewhere between black and brown. Her eyes, a deep shade of brown,
were wide and fixed on me as the hands on her hips tightened, pressing into the flesh. I squinted, thinking I recognized the woman.
“I would ask if you’d considered knocking,” Kieran remarked, the
muscles in his hips and ass flexing as he slowed behind the woman. “But obviously that didn’t cross your mind.”
I raised a brow as he lifted the woman’s ample ass that shook with his thrust. “I didn’t realize you’d have company.”
“I assume not.” His skin glistened with a faint sheen of sweat. “You’re earlier than I expected.”
“Clearly,” I drawled.
“Well, since you’re here…” Kieran drew one hand from the woman’s hip, dragging it up the soft skin of her belly and then between her swaying breasts. “Care to join in?”
The woman moaned, rocking forward on the length of his glistening cock.
Kieran chuckled as his fingers curled around the base of her neck and he pulled her back, bringing her flush with his chest. “I don’t think Circe would mind.”
“Not at all,” Circe panted, extending a hand. “Join us.”
It struck me then, as Kieran’s other hand left her hip and delved between her thighs. I knew why I thought she looked familiar. She was a Descenter.
One I was pretty sure I’d fucked.
Kieran’s grin kicked up a notch as he locked eyes with me. Dipping his head, he nipped at her throat, wringing a startled cry of pleasure from her. My gaze went back to his large hand between her thighs, both promising a welcome and pleasant diversion. And considering my cock had just been about as hard as Kieran’s while in Penellaphe’s chambers, I should dive headfirst into what they offered.
But like the morning with Britta, the desire wasn’t there. “Thanks,” I said. “But I’m good.
“You sure?” Kieran gave her clit a playful smack.
“Positive.” I turned, making my way to the settee. There was something fucking wrong with me. I sat, whiskey bottle in hand as I placed the canvas sack on the floor. “But please, pretend I’m not even here,” I said, knowing damn well neither of them would do that, but both would thoroughly do what I said next. “And enjoy yourselves.”
Kieran made a sound that was a cross between a laugh and a groan. I smirked. Taking another drink of whiskey, I propped my feet on the low table.
Circe must’ve whispered something that earned a warning from Kieran to leave me be. My smirk grew, and I could practically feel his heated glare.
I’d be lying if I said the sounds of their bodies coming together or how Kieran fucked, the tight control of his thrusts, and how he ground on her ass had no effect, but as my gaze flickered over the jut of Circe’s rose-tipped breasts, it wasn’t her body I saw in my mind.
It was hers. Penellaphe’s.
My fantasies decided to put her on that bed between Kieran and me, and man, just imagining that packed a sensual punch.
Gods, I shouldn’t be thinking of her like that for a multitude of reasons, the least of which was that while Penellaphe was curious about sensuality, this would likely scandalize her into an early death.
It didn’t take long for Circe to find her release, thank the gods. Kieran took her to her stomach, driving into her, and I knew how hard he could fuck—something Circe very noisily approved of. By the time he found his release, I had a feeling she would find herself comparing every future lover to him.
My eyes drifted shut as they disentangled themselves and rose from the bed. Kieran whispered something that made her giggle. The soft click of the door closing announced her departure.
“Did you enjoy yourself?” I asked. “What do you think?”
I grinned, opening my eyes. “Actually, I’m glad you had company tonight. You could use the practice.”
Kieran snorted as he dipped a cloth into a basin of water. “You feeling okay?”
“Of course.” I took a drink of the whiskey. “Why do you ask?”
“You’re sitting over there with a hard dick,” he pointed out, drawing the wet cloth over his. “By choice.”
“Yeah,” I said. “Not like I haven’t chosen more disconcerting things in the past.”
“True.” He tossed the cloth aside. “Got an update for me?”
“I do,” I said, filling him in on what had occurred, which wasn’t of much interest to him until I got to the part about what I planned to do to the Duke.
“You cannot kill the Duke,” Kieran said, dressing as he joined me. “Oh, I’m going to kill him.” I straightened my leg. “There’s no way
around that.” And if I had the time and opportunity, Lord Mazeen was another dead motherfucker.
So was that damn Priestess.
And I couldn’t forget Lieutenant Smyth. There would be a bloodbath.
“When the Craven attacked the Rise, she was out there,” I told him, and he did a double-take. “She kept her identity hidden, but she saved guards that night. She’s damn good with a bow and arrow and likely just as skilled with a dagger. She’s a fighter, Kieran. You know what that means for her to
have taken what the Duke has been doing to her? To not be able to stop him?”
“Hawke—”
“He has been caning her, Kieran,” I cut him off, anger pulsing through me, chasing away the last of the strange feelings of peace. “And only the
gods know what else. He must die. Maiden or not, what is being done to her is inexcusable.”
His jaw tightened. “I’m not down with anyone being abused, but what you’re talking about is revenge.”
“And?”
Kieran’s stare met mine. “That’s not the same as stopping an abuser.” “Seems like the exact same thing to me.”
“One is an act to protect another,” he countered. “The other makes it about you.”
“And those two things cannot be true at the same time?” I asked, letting out a harsh laugh. “Because they are.”
“I didn’t say they couldn’t be.” “Then what are you saying?”
For several moments, there were only the muted cries of passion from an adjoining chamber, and then Kieran said, “You care about her.”
“What?” My booted foot slipped from the low table and landed near the canvas sack I’d filled with clothing for Poppy that I was about ninety percent confident would fit. Pants. Sweater. A cloak. Kieran would take it with him when he left, as it would be less suspicious than me running around with it the night of the Rite. “You need to say that again because, surely, I didn’t hear you right.”
“You heard me right.” Kieran crossed his arms.
For a moment, I could only stare at him, wondering if he had somehow lost his mind. “That’s an absurd statement.”
“It wasn’t a question,” he corrected. “It was a statement. You have to care about someone to seek revenge for the harm done to them.”
Is that true? I wasn’t so sure. Not in every case. Not in this case. “Honestly, I’m not surprised,” he continued. “You spend a lot of time with her, protecting her. It’s only natural you’d develop some sort of feelings.”
“The Duke’s imminent death has little to do with her or any supposed feelings I might have and everything to do with him. If he’s doing this to her, he’s doing it to others. I’m not going to leave here and let that continue, and I know damn well you wouldn’t want him to keep hurting others, either.” I met his gaze. “The plans haven’t changed, Kieran. The Rite will proceed. The Descenters will make their move, and I will take her. None of that has changed.”
Kieran stared, inhaling roughly through his nose. “Glad to hear it.” My brow pinched. “Did you think it had?”
“I don’t know.” His stare fixed on the unlit fireplace. A couple of
moments passed. “Have I told you what a bad idea this whole plan of yours is?”
A grin tugged at my lips. “You have. Many times.”
“Have I told you that I think it’s a colossal mistake, then?” he asked. “You’ve said it’s an enormous mistake. I also believe you’ve called it
gargantuan in the past. Mammoth another time,” I reminded him. The expression etched into his face was something I’d seen a million times. It was the one that warned he was on the verge of a lecture that would make his father proud. “At this point, you’ve got to be running out of adjectives.”
“I have a whole list stored up, starting with humongous.”
I laughed. “You’re starting to remind me of Emil, you know.”
Kieran snorted. “Unlikely.” His pale blue gaze turned serious. “You’re not going to be swayed about this whole Duke thing, are you?”
“No.” I figured it was best to keep the others I wanted dead to myself. “I believe he will be an unfortunate victim of the attack the night of the Rite.”
He squinted. “The Descenters won’t be laying siege to the castle.” “No, but I will make it look like at least one managed to infiltrate,” I
said. “Either way, we will be gone, so it matters little.”
The pinch of his brow said that it still mattered. “How the fuck did the Maiden learn how to use a bow?”
“That’s not all she can do. She can also fight hand-to-hand. She almost took my ass down.”
“Well, I want to know more about that.”
A dry laugh left me. “It’s not as interesting as you think.” “Disagree,” he murmured.
“I think it was her other guard. Vikter,” I answered his question. “He must have trained her.”
“That is unexpected, and a potential problem down the road.” I sighed, looking at my empty hand. “Don’t I know it?”
A heartbeat passed. “Caning her?” Anger simmered in my gut as I nodded.
“Fucking gods.” His eyes, a brighter shade of blue now, met mine. “Make it hurt.”
“I plan to.”
“Good.” He scratched his jaw. “I cannot wait to be free of this cesspool.”
“You and me both,” I said, and we would be. Soon. Our plan would work.
But things would get messy and bloodier than they already were, and I didn’t want Kieran anywhere near any of it. I hadn’t wanted him here at all.
He knew that, and still insisted on joining me. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t try to talk some sense into him.
I rose, and Kieran’s eyes immediately narrowed. “You know I’d prefer if you—”
“Don’t start,” he interrupted, his voice dropping low, even though not a soul could hear us. “I know exactly what you’re going to say, Cas.”
“I didn’t want you here in the first place,” I told him. “If I had my way, you would be back in Atlantia, or at the very least, in Spessa’s End, annoying the hell out of your sister.”
“Didn’t I just ask you not to start with this shit?”
“You didn’t ask. You demanded that I not, and I’m ignoring that.” I clasped his shoulder. “Besides the risks—”
“What you mean to say is besides the fact that my father would have your ass if something happened to me.”
“That, too.” I cracked a grin despite the truth of what Kieran said. His father would have my ass if something happened to his son. Who I was wouldn’t stop him. “I know being here, having to stay in this form, hasn’t been easy.”
“I make do. I’ll keep making do, so don’t worry about me.”
Of course, he’d say that. But no wolven enjoyed being confined to their mortal forms, even if it was by choice. “You can ride ahead to New Haven.”
“I’m with you,” Kieran said, folding his hand around my outstretched forearm. “Always. Even if I think what you’re doing is idiotic.”
Just like he’d known there would be no changing my mind about the Duke, I knew there was no chance I’d change his regarding this. I had to try, though. I squeezed his shoulder, then dropped my hand. “I’ve done far more idiotic things.”
“Name one.”
I knocked back a strand of dark hair. “I could name a hundred, but then we’d be here until the Rite.”
“We would be.” The humor dissipated as he bent, picking up the sack. “If all goes well, the next time we see each other…”
I took a deep breath. “Will be when we’re leaving Masadonia.”
