94. Arran

"What should I expect?" Veyka asked from the dressing table.

With Cyara and the others gone, she'd dressed herself and styled her own hair. She had managed a simple but elegant plait that started at the center of her forehead and continued straight down her spine. Instead of weaving jewels into the braid, she'd created a circlet that crossed over her forehead and then disappeared into the braid at the back. The tail of her plait swayed over the center of her back, teasing me. Begging me to press my mouth to the beauty mark that stood out sharply against her pale, bare skin.

Veyka turned in her seat, depriving me of the view I'd been enjoying, and catching her lower lip between her teeth at the same moment that she caught my eye.

She was torturing me.

Two could play that game.

I paused buttoning my tunic, lifting my arms high above my head to stretch. Exposing the sharp-cut planes of my chest and abdomen. "Imbolc is the festival of females." Veyka's eyes glassed over. "The regeneration. A promise of the coming spring."

Promises. We'd made even more of them between each other. But instead of a weight, they were a comfort. Etched into my soul as permanently as the sprawling tree Talisman tattooed onto my skin.

Her hands flexed on the table.

"I am already used to being waited upon," she purred.

I held her gaze as I buttoned the tunic sideways across my chest, up to the shoulder. Hiding myself from view. "That is indeed part of it,"

"And what is the other part?"

"Worship."

The shift was slight, but she could not hide it from. Not the growing scent of her arousal, nor the way she pressed her thighs tighter together. "I very much like the sound of that."

"Unfortunately, you will not be participating fully."

She pouted out a lip. Ancestors, I had missed her without even knowing it. I'd missed the familiarity, the ease. I'd longed for it, for that piece that was missing between us…

Now it was sharper. More urgent. We had to touch each other, talk to each other, to reassure ourselves that it was real.

And Veyka… I would do anything to erase that haunted look that lingered in her eyes.

"It is our custom for females to choose their partners—as many partners as they like." Her brows rose as I added, "Anything less than three is an insult to the Ancestors."

Veyka tilted her head to the side. Are you so eager to share me?

Any male—or female—foolish enough to approach you will deserve their fate.

She chose that moment to stand, to show off the gown she'd chosen for the evening. "Perhaps I should change. It almost seems cruel."

The dark blue bodice curved over her breasts, but did not rise to cover her shoulders. It cut outward, to her arms, which were fully enclosed in tight-fitting blue. Leaving the expanse of creamy skin of her breasts, shoulders, and throat exposed. Her skirts were fuller than the terrestrial style, more modest than I'd expected. But as she walked to me, I saw the slits cut up the sides, nearly to her waist. Revealing the long, muscular line of her thigh and calf.

The low growl of appreciation filled my body, my consciousness. Veyka tilted her head back, moaning softly as if the sound were a physical caress.

Ancestors. We were never going to make it down to the great hall.

Veyka grinned wickedly, the ring of blue in her eyes vibrant. I knew my own burned with black fire in return—my cock was hard, demanding in my tight-fitted trousers. Ready for her again, even when we'd risen from the bed mere minutes before.

"I shall pass your compliments along to Cyara."

"Cyara might be the most powerful elemental I have ever encountered."

Veyka pinched my bicep. "I am the most powerful elemental you have ever encountered."

So easy, to get lost in the moment. To forget the reality—the death that lingered at the doorstep of our kingdom.

Imbolc was an interlude. A brief escape. Even as we did our duty here, Cyara, Lyrena, and the humans were searching for Accolon's ancient keep. It felt selfish, to be basking in Veyka's glory while the rest of them toiled in search of answers.

The logical voice in my head reminded me that this was part of being High King—ceremony and spectacle were important. So was demonstrating our unity and strength, after the events of the last two months.

The selfish one did not give a damn that others were suffering. Me, my beast—we wanted to savor every second with her. Worshipping her. Every second of the next thousand years, and a thousand more beyond that.

"If you look at me like that, we will never leave this room." Veyka's voice was more than a little breathless.

I slid my hand into hers. "I am yours, Princess."