Although Regin appeared reluctant to discuss Carina’s mother, Marek continued his questioning. “Was she from Brookshire?”
“We found her unconscious and nearly drowned on the bank of the Sassame River. She couldn’t remember anything about her prior life including her name, so we called her Sasha. But that didn’t stop her from trying to become my mistress by seducing me after supplying me with too much drink.” Regin hesitated as if he’d said too much, then frowned. “Why do you ask such questions? Are you interested in Carina as your mistress? Because if so, her cost is the same as that of my Marissa.”
Marek bowed his head. “I was merely curious. My intentions haven’t changed.”
Regin smiled. “Good. Carina takes excellent care of the Critons.”
“Father, am I interrupting?”
Marissa descended upon the room like a griffon swooping in for the kill, capturing everyone’s attention in the biggest dress Marek had ever seen. He spared Sampson a quick glance before rising from his chair along with Regin. Although Sampson never smiled, he knew his captain well enough to recognize his silent amusement.
Marek walked over to Marissa and kissed her white-gloved hand. “You look beautiful, Lady Marissa.”
She batted her eyes and dipped her head. “Thank you, King Marek.”
Regin clapped his hands in delight. “Daughter, you look ravishing.”
“Oh, Father, please.”
Regin edged toward the door. “Shall we move into the dining hall?”
Marek was about to inquire into Carina’s whereabouts when she emerged at the top of the stairs. She paused. Uncertainty flickered across her face. For a moment he thought she was going to fade back into the shadows of the upper floors. But she took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and stepped off the landing.
He inhaled a ragged breath at the sight of her. Her dress accentuated the slight swing of her hips while the tight bodice molded perfectly to the swell of her breasts. With each step as she descended, a slow burn heated his blood, flooding hot desire straight to his groin. She shimmered in the soft light spilling from the room—a light acting as a path for her to follow, illuminating her way…to him.
She entered with her head bowed and lowered into a deep curtsy. “Your Majesty.”
He extended his hand and tried to keep his fingers from twitching in anticipation of her touch. She hesitated, and had yet to look him in the eyes. But she could not deny him, not without causing insult, so he waited. His body trembled when her hand slipped into his.
For the second time today, he couldn’t let her go. She had entered the room on a whisper, but swept across his senses like a winter storm. She was the calm, silent stillness just before the skies unleashed their wrath to prove yet again the power of the Mother Source. The sweet anticipation of thunder crackling through the air slammed through his defenses, yet her tranquil demeanor kept the sizzling turmoil at bay.
Her hair was arranged in elaborate curls and braids that exposed the delicious contour of her neck. As she continued to look down, her dark eyelashes contrasted against her pale skin. He resisted the urge to brush his thumb across the soft curve of her lips. She was a feast for his eyes to devour. He wanted to tell her that she looked stunning, but his voice failed him and he could only mutter her name in a gravelly, scrape of sound.
She lifted her chin and peered at him. He saw something within her troubled eyes. Confusion? Pain? Had he caused this? Guilt plagued his mind. He should’ve told her his true identity when he first saw her boldly petting FireStrike. But after he’d accidentally insulted her and she had stood defiant in front of him with her feet planted and hands fisted, her willfulness had struck him like a fire bolt. Her enthusiasm and spirit was a refreshing surprise that threw him off guard. His desire to maintain that brief illusion so he could enjoy her unshielded companionship had hurt her, and he was paying a heavy price for his omission.
Somehow, both of his hands now sandwiched her smaller hand in a possessive hold while he struggled to control his beating heart. He could only stare at her, his eyes focused on the incredible woman now standing before him. But like an oozing wound, Marissa’s perfumed scent invaded his senses just before her fingers settled in the nook of his arm, claiming him.
“Half sister, stop embarrassing yourself,” Marissa reprimanded.
Carina blushed and dropped her head, pulling free from his grasp.
He had an uncontrollable urge to retake her hand, but Regin slipped between them.
“Yes, Carina,” Regin chided. “Remember you’re here because of King Marek’s generosity.”
Carina nodded and stepped away.
“Let’s adjourn to the dining hall,” Regin announced, and motioned toward the double doors leading from the room.
Marek’s blood boiled. Carina might be mixed, but a royal family line also flowed through her veins. She deserved better. Walking away from her took all his willpower. She confused and excited him. But the girl he’d witnessed this afternoon, the one with the flash of mischief in her eyes and an easy laugh, had disappeared, as if Marissa and Regin had transformed her into a submissive inconsequence of the household.
He shook his head, forcing the desire to go to her out of his mind and body. He had to keep the welfare of his land and people in the forefront of his thoughts. If he indulged in his ambition to seek Carina’s company, he’d ruin his chance with Marissa.
He tried to justify his decision as Marissa led them toward the double doors, pushing his irrational feelings into the far corners of his mind. Regin showed generosity by not disowning Carina. Her life within the McKay castle was not his concern. He shouldn’t worry about her.
But even as he attempted to convince himself, he indulged in a quick glance behind his shoulder to find Carina staring out a window. Her skin glimmered in the soft moonlight filtering in through the panes. As he spied her reflection in the glass, the moonlight danced in her eyes. He followed her gaze and saw two shining eyes staring back at her, piercing the outside darkness. Mira stood in the grass looking up at the window as if beckoning Carina to come outside and play.
In that brief instant before Carina disappeared from his view, she seemed so vulnerable that an overpowering need to protect her surged through him.
“Don’t you agree?” Marissa asked, giving his arm a little squeeze.
“I’m sorry, Lady Marissa?”
“The weather has been unusually warm this harvest season.” She tilted her head sideways to glance at him.
“Aye, I suppose.”
“I haven’t been able to wear my best winter outfits yet.” She pouted.
“You look lovely.”
Marissa twittered with happiness before prattling on about something else. But she was a sandfly buzzing around him, a nuisance that disturbed his thoughts—thoughts that had already traveled back to the girl standing alone in the moonlight by the window.
6 – MOONLIGHT
Except for the conversation he had forced out of Carina, dinner had been as Marek expected—dismal. Once again in the hosting chamber, he roved back and forth like a caged animal, rippling the hanging tapestries with his restless stride. In a few minutes, he would discuss his future with Regin and seal his fate with Marissa. He stopped his futile pacing and stared out the same window Carina had peered through earlier.
A growing apprehension slithered through his mind. But the unease gathering inside him like a coiled urutu wasn’t caused by his pending arrangements to wed a woman he didn’t love because he’d already done that…once. The foreboding felt more ominous, like a storm brewing on the horizon. And if he couldn’t navigate his way through it, he’d roam forever lost within the raging tempest.
He leaned against the window frame and inhaled a deep breath. Nothing moved outside, not even leaves rustling in the trees, like the world had gone into hibernation waiting for a signal to reawaken.
His stomach twisted and the beginning of a headache thumped in his right temple. He shook his head trying to clear the confusion encircling his mind. Unlike Saffron, this time he knew the consequences of his courtship to Marissa. He understood the loneliness he would commit to based on a chance Marissa could call Critons. But a good king made sacrifices for the betterment of his people.
Although he understood the practicality of his decision, his chest constricted and the pounding in his head increased. He couldn’t shake a sense that if he wasn’t careful, if he failed to discover what he was meant to see, he’d travel down the wrong path—a path doomed to irrevocably alter his life.
He glanced up at the moons, Luna and her son. Bright and full, they exposed the night as if it were day, except with a softer glow.
What am I supposed to see? Tell me.
He sent his plea in a silent prayer.
As if by answer, she darted across the grounds, an apparition running toward the Criton lairs, breathing life back into the Mother Source and reviving the world. Her hair spilled behind her in a wave. Although still wearing her evening dress, she ran barefoot through the grass. She extended her stride. The strips of fabric in her skirt glided around her, exposing the muscular curves of her legs. His body stirred at the breathtaking vision illuminated by the moons.
The walls enclosed around him, the air humid and stuffy. He needed to escape the room and the consequences about to occur within it. He rushed toward the door, eager to share the moonlight with the girl who could capture his attention with a simple smile.
He had to talk to her, to ensure any misunderstandings between them were resolved. A thought flickered through his mind about his inappropriate behavior. But for a brief timespan tonight, he would forget to be a king with obligations so he could be a man spending his final moments of freedom with a girl who captivated his mind and soul like no other. Then, he’d walk away from her for the rest of his life.
7 – AWAKENING
Carina whistled and waited. She needed to run her fingers over Mira’s smooth skin and let her Criton’s unconditional acceptance comfort and reassure her. She was confused, very confused. She didn’t know how to behave around Mar…King Duncan. And why had he made her talk during dinner?
With the mother and son moons lighting the sky, she spotted Mira just before the animal tucked her wings and dove. A familiar quiver of excitement caressed Carina’s skin as she watched the animal’s blistering descent. At the last second, Mira spread her wings and glided to a perfect stop. She snorted a greeting before folding her small wings against her body. Carina smiled and located the sweet spot behind her friend’s ear. Mira groaned in pleasure.
The anxiety Carina had tried to ignore since before King Duncan’s arrival pulsed within her stronger than ever. Why did she feel this way? Why now?
Her heart fluttered when she remembered catching her first glimpse of King Duncan before dinner. He wore a flowing purple cape and a matching silk velvet knee-length jerkin. Gold brocade adorned the upper third of the jerkin while black leggings and polished knee-high riding boots finished off his formal dress.
She’d been so afraid of tripping on the stairs. And King Duncan had seemed larger than life, commanding the room with a casual confidence that only exacerbated her discomfort. When he had taken her hand and spoken her name, her entire body had trembled like she’d been struck by lightning.
She couldn’t concentrate. His presence distracted her. Throughout dinner she would catch herself staring at him and then feel her cheeks burn when his piercing eyes caught and held hers. These strange and bewildering emotions excited her, yet were tempered by the fact he was courting Marissa, not her.
A knot of anger roiled through her stomach. King Duncan and Father were in the hosting chamber finalizing their agreement while Marissa was in her room, packing. Marissa had always been the darling. Although Carina had no aspirations of being the favorite, she longed to be considered part of the family.
She blinked away tears and hugged Mira’s neck. “Maybe Father will notice me once Marissa is gone,” she whispered to her companion. Mira tossed her head as if in agreement.
“You are fond of that Criton, aren’t you?”
Although he spoke in a soft murmur, his voice reverberated through her like a gong. She struggled to maintain what little respect she still possessed and dipped into a quick curtsy. “She’s going to be a great Criton one day.”
Marek stepped up beside her and stroked Mira’s neck. “She seems a bit small.”
A nervous spark shot through her body at his nearness, rattling her self-control. She concentrated on keeping her voice level. “She hasn’t transitioned yet, that’s all.”
“Aye, some change drastically after they transition.”
****
Her lips twitched into a small smile, but she kept her eyes averted. “They do indeed.”
Marek sighed. Carina had no intention of making this easy for him, and deservedly so. Although courteous, she remained reserved. To his surprise, her distance cut him like a blade, creating a hollow, festering wound. He longed to hear her laugh and see her smile, and the more she turned away from him, the greater the ache in his chest.
“Look at me,” he commanded quietly.
After a short pause, she raised her head and speared him with her large, brown eyes. Pain reflected back at him, confirming that he had offended her.
“I’m sorry for my behavior earlier. My actions were inexcusable.”
She stared at him a moment before her eyes narrowed and her anger bore into him. He squirmed at her stabbing gaze.