74. Arran

The distance between us was nearly unbearable. Not physical—we were never more than a few yards apart, except for when I scouted ahead in my beast form. Even then, I tracked Veyka through the pull in my chest. Harder, I was farther away. When it eased, I knew I was getting close to her. Something that had been a myth to me but a few weeks ago exercised a huge amount of power in my life, and I was not sure how I felt about it. Nor how I felt about her.

I wanted her. But ruling a kingdom would require more than a physical bond between us. Veyka loved me. If everyone around me was to believed, I had loved her as well.

I did not know how to love. I was the Brutal Prince.

Had never wanted it; did not deserve it.

I stayed in my wolf form for the remainder of the journey. No one talked to me, not even Veyka. I told myself it was for the better.

Yet as we neared the end of our journey, I found myself shifting. I needed to speak with her. These last few moments were not the same as the ice cave, but it was a hell of a lot more privacy than we'd have once we arrived at the castle.

A few more steps, and Eilean Gayl would be in view. My legs moved faster, the need to speak to Veyka, to say something, compulsory. Overwhelming. Even if I did not know what to say.

Barkke muttered something under his breath as I shoved past him that he was lucky I ignored. Lyrena lifted her brows but did not bar my way.

Veyka had to hear my approach. The pull of the bond. I was almost alongside her as Eilean Gayl appeared—

"Something has happened."

The bridge was crowded, gates thrown open. Veyka already had a blade from her back. My battle axe was in hand.

"I'm sorry," she said over her shoulder to Lyrena.

I understood a second before she took my hand and we disappeared.

Veyka pulled us from the void a quarter of the way across the bridge. Lyrena and Barkke were running, the latter in his beast form, but they were on the other side of the lake. Veyka was at my side, formidable and fierce, ready to defend Eilean Gayl.

Until she lowered her weapon.

A broad smile spread across her face, fuller and more unrestrained than she'd ever given me. Jealousy bloomed as a dark blur shot across the bridge in her direction.

Veyka cried out, weapon sheathed, arms wide, scooping the blur into her arms.

A child.

The crowd turned to face us. Frenzied—but with excitement. Erratic movements—terrestrials clapping a tall male on the back. Beside me, Veyka was making nonsensical joyous sounds that seemed to be reciprocated by the child in her arms. Dark hair, pointed ears, and judging from the massive bouquet of flowers she held out to Veyka, a terrestrial.

The tall male broke off from the group. Several others trailed him—my mother and father, Veyka's handmaiden, and the white-skinned faerie who'd hassled me all the way to Eilean Gayl. But the male, I recognized.

"Osheen," I said, right arm across my chest, fist clenched—a typical warrior's greeting. Osheen was among the finest I'd ever commanded. A powerful flora-gifted terrestrial, yes, but that was not what made him so useful. There was not a hint of pride or artifice in the male's body. He was confident, steady, and loyal.

Then my mate threw her arm around his shoulder and I decided I could live without him.

"Your Majesty," he said to Veyka, rolling his eyes as she turned to speak with the white faerie, the child still on her hip. "Arran. You look healed."

Not well.

Not happy.

Not healed, either. Not fully.

Only when Veyka was several feet away from Osheen was I able to speak without growling. "What has brought you to Eilean Gayl?"

Osheen's brows drew together. "Isolde came for us," he said.

Not a lie, obviously. But not an explanation.

"Osheen! I thought we might never get you to leave those caves!" Lyrena greeted the warrior warmly. Despite the run to reach us, she was barely winded.

The throng was growing. Our traveling party, Osheen and the child, the residents of Eilean Gayl. Veyka got further away from me by the moment. I needed to speak with her. I needed a report from Osheen. Veyka knew him; surely he could fill in the gaps in my memory that she still shied away from.

"I have called for food, to provide succor to our weary travelers and celebrate their return," my mother said, voice rising above the rabble.

My jaw clenched.

There was no privacy to a communal meal. Food and wine would devolve to music and fucking. My eyes went straight to Veyka. They had never left her, not really. Could not possibly.

She heard my call. Turned, because she'd never lost sight of me either. But her blazing blue eyes did not meet mine as she opened that too-luscious mouth.

"The meal will have to wait," she said, offering no apologetic smiles. Giving no quarter. "Every male in Eilean Gayl is to report to the great hall. Immediately."