Chapter 16

GOLL

I stood on the balcony of my bedchamber, waiting for Una's arrival.

I decided we would dine here until after the Rite of Servium. I wanted to be alone with her, and I didn't want to overwhelm her with court meals just yet. Those could be entertaining, depending how much wine was drunk, but I guessed that Una might find them horrifying and barbaric, knowing her kind were much more…proper.

For at least a little while, I wanted to put her at ease with my people, but more than that, I wanted her all to myself. No ones' eyes drinking in her beauty but me.

I scented Una and Hava before I saw them. Even more, I sensed Una's moon fae magick. I inhaled deeply, relishing the sweetness of it, a gentle, airy magick.

"Good evening, Sire," said Hava, stepping onto the balcony.

But it was Una who caught my attention—and kept it. By Vix, she was beautiful.

She wore a dark blue gown of a silky material that formed to her feminine curves, the short sleeves leaving her pale, slender arms free, the deep vee of the dress revealing her generous figure, but it was her face where I found the most pleasure in gazing.

Those otherworldly, violet eyes, her smooth, milk-white skin, her perfect mouth and the lovely line of her cheeks and jaw. She was truly breathtaking.

Hava giggled, dipped a curtsy, then left. I paid no mind. I'm sure Hava found quite a bit of amusement at my expense, but I also knew I didn't have to hide my dumbstruck behavior from her. Hava was loyal and true.

Una had been studying me as well. No telling what her thoughts were. She blinked quickly from her own trance and stepped toward the chair at the small round table where I stood.

Quickly, I maneuvered to her side and pulled out her chair. She froze, wide-eyed and surprised. Then she sat down, murmuring, "Thank you."

Gooseflesh rose on her arms. Frowning, I stepped to my chair and lifted the Meer-wolf cloak hanging over the back, then returned to her side and draped it around her shoulders. "Hava should've dressed you in a cloak." Her wings hung low, so I asked, "Will this bother your wings?"

"It's fine." She curled her fingers around the top edges of the collar and pulled the cloak tighter. "Thank you."

"The weather is turning."

Una looked out over the stone ballustrade while I took my seat. "Back home, the leaves won't start changing for another month or two."

"This is the north. Like everything else here, the winters come faster and harder than in the south."

She caught my gaze, her mouth tilting up in a small smile. My chest suddenly hurt.

"That doesn't surprise me."

Two female servants stepped onto the balcony with silver-domed covered dishes. They set one in front of each of us.

"That will be all," I dismissed them. I didn't want any of the servants hovering so that they could spread gossip below stairs.

They curtsied then left quickly.

"I wasn't sure what you'd like," I admitted, "so I asked the cooks to prepare a little of everything."

We both lifted our domes. She let out a little laugh as she surveyed her plate, piled high with cuts of hog and venison, colorful roasted vegetables, sauced sweetmeats, and steamed greens—all well-seasoned, the smell of the spices rising with the steam.

"I cannot possibly eat all of this."

"As long as you eat something, I don't care how much." I cleared my throat. "Hava said you haven't eaten well lately."

A palpable silence stretched between us, awkward and uncomfortable. We'd spent little time alone so far, except that one night in the tent. And that had been filled with the anger sparking between us, and my own lust I was forced to suppress.

This was my attempt at being civil, but it seemed to not be going so well.

She lifted her fork and arched a brow at me, finally admitting freely, "I've been anxious."

It would be stupid to ask why. I knew why. She'd been torn from her home to become the mate of the enemy.

Mate . I hadn't thought of her that way. Or had I? I'd never considered her a concubine, even though a wraith king's mizrah was essentially the most important of his harem, but a part of his harem, nonetheless.

As if she could read my thoughts, she asked, "Will I be meeting your other concubines at some point?"

A trace of annoyance and even anger threaded the question. Though I wanted to smile, I kept it hidden.

"If I remember correctly, you requested that I lay with no other woman while you are my bed partner."

"I did. But I'm aware a wraith king would have concubines. I want to be sure and meet them so I can be wary of them."

"Why would you be wary of them?" This was entertaining.

She squirmed in her seat, still poking at her food, not yet tasting it. "That is obvious, Goll. I am a foreign princess, invading their home and taking the king's…attentions."

A purr rumbled in my chest without meaning to. I couldn't help the pleasure that warmed me at her concern for other women coming between us. For even though she claimed she needed to know for her own safety, it seemed that envy colored her pretty face with tense anger and frustration.

"I don't have any concubines, Mizrah."

She paused then finally met my gaze across the candlelit table, the soft glow flickering on her sweet face. "I read that all wraith kings have a harem of concubines."

"As you know, I haven't been king long. I haven't had time to assemble a proper harem."

I didn't plan on having one. She was the only one I wanted in my bed. And the want was killing me slowly.

Una stabbed her food again. "Oh," was all she said. "I thought perhaps even when you were in hiding you might have…lovers. Someone you might've brought to the palace."

It had been many weeks since I'd killed my father, and I certainly could've filled a harem easily enough if I was so inclined. I wasn't.

That heavy tension weighed between us again. I tried to lighten it.

"You've been reading about wraith kings?" I quirked a brow and took a bite of the juicy venison.

She dropped her gaze to her plate, still poking at the vegetables.

"Eat, Una," I commanded.

She actually obeyed and took a bite of the small, orange squash that the cooks liked to roast in hog fat, salt, and sprinkles of hot spice.

Una's eyes closed as she hummed with pleasure. My cock jerked at the sound.

"Good?" I asked.

"Yes." Then she actually began eating rather than simply stabbing her food with her fork. "I've been studying your culture for a long time actually," she admitted amiably.

Another slide of warmth trickled down my body. "Indeed?"

She paused to chew and then swallow another bite, which put me at ease. "I was curious after I'd been taken here." She dabbed her mouth with a napkin. "The first time, I mean."

I sat back, my hand on the goblet of wine on the table. "Of course, you'd be curious."

She'd want to know about the fae who'd taken her prisoner, who'd tortured her near to death.

My own curiosity was piqued. "And what did you discover?"

"Many things." She smiled before taking a bite of the roasted hog.

"Like?"

"Only a wraith fae descended from the dragon line can take the throne. There was one king three millennia ago who tried to take the throne when there was no heir to the recently killed king in battle."

"Ukahaan."

"Yes! That was his name." She smiled openly, bewitching me further. "You must eat, too, Goll."

I liked when she used my name and didn't call me sire, which would keep distance between us. I shouldn't like it. I shouldn't crave the intimacy, but I did.

I sat forward and continued eating.

"Anyway," she added, "Ukahaan had failed to create an heir before he died in battle. They were at war with the shadow fae at the time, though I couldn't reason out why."

"There's always been tension between the wraith fae and shadow fae."

"Interesting. Well, you seem to know this story."

"Still, I'd like to hear you tell it," I admitted.

Pink colored her cheeks as she went on. "Another wraith fae, Tykel the Two-Horned, gained the throne for about five days before another wraith of the dragon line took it from him. And his head. Or so the story goes."

"What else did you discover?" I asked.

"A boy was found with perfect dragon eyes. Blue with a golden core." Her fork froze midway to her mouth as she stared at me across the small table, looking into very similar eyes as the boy king. "He was put on the throne."

"That was my great, great grandfather. It wasn't him who took Tykel the Two-Horned's head," I corrected. "The royal council took care of that with some of Ukahaan's former Culled."

She sipped her wine, then her gaze dropped to the table as she worried her bottom lip with those perfect, blunt teeth. I was distracted by her mouth before I realized she seemed to be holding something back.

"What is it you wish to ask?" I went back to my plate, nearly finished.

"There are many things not written down about the dark fae." She hesitated then added, "Some scholars claim to have knowledge, though I'm unsure."

"Ask me." I lifted my goblet and settled back into my chair.

"Some say that your ancestors lay with a dragon. That is how you got those eyes." Finally, she lifted her gaze to mine again, staring boldly. It stirred heat low in my belly. Lower still.

"You have seen Drakmir. Do you think it possible?"

"Well, no. Not with one like Drakmir. But not all dragons are so big."

I rolled my eyes. "You moon fae and your stories."

She laughed, the sound freezing me to the spot. It was the first time I'd seen or heard her laugh, and I didn't simply hear it. I felt it tremble through me, warming my blood further. Bewitching and beguiling.

I should beware of her. I should keep her at a distance. But the reality of my tortured state, completely dumbstruck by something so simple as her laugh, warned me that this was dangerous. Especially for a wraith king. One who must show strength and maintain a solitary, fierce front in order to hold the throne.

"Then what is the true story?" she finally asked, still smiling wide.

Resting my goblet on my knee, I leaned back into my chair and told her. "The god Vix was once imprisoned in a desert by the sun god Solzkin. Chained to a rock and forced to wither under the penetrating heat of the sun for his crime against Solzkin."

"What crime?" She set her napkin on her plate—a good portion of it gone, which eased my mind. She pulled my cloak tighter around her shoulders.

"Vix had walked past one of Solzkin's temples without paying homage or tribute. Vix rarely left his mountain home because the rest of the gods hated him so. They were always looking for a reason to punish him."

A tiny line formed between Una's brows. "I've never read this about Vix."

"What do you know of Vix?" I asked, curious.

She shrugged a shoulder, dislodging the cloak so that the delicate sweep of her collar bone and the slender curve of her neck were exposed. I swallowed hard.

"Only that he enjoyed many women and trysts. That was how he usually angered the gods in our stories."

"Of course." I scoffed. "That is how your people would see him."

She didn't comment, but her frown deepened.

"While Vix was chained to that rock, tortured without water or protection for decades, he thought for sure he would die. Even though gods never die. The pain was so great, he wished that he could. Then, one day, he spied a distant dark speck in the the blue sky. It was always clear and bright in this desert. The speck grew larger and larger until he could see the flapping of wings. It was a giant dragon."

Una's gaze lightened, her mouth quirking at the corners. She liked this story.

"The dragon was an old silverback, a king of his kind with black scales but a silver streak of mane from the head to the tip of the tail. This dragon flew down and landed with a giant roar. Vix said nothing, his throat too dry, his body too tired to even protest if the dragon planned to eat him. But that is not what happened."

Una's brows rose as she leaned forward, seemingly entranced by the story.

I smiled at her anticipation. "The dragon broke the chains with a swipe of his claws on the rock. Vix fell to his knees, gasping, desperate for water. The dragon seemed to understand. He nicked his hide and stretched the bleeding leg toward Vix. Without hesitation, the god drank the dragon's blood until he was sated. It gave him the strength to finally stand. He climbed upon the dragon's back and returned to his mountain home. The dragon was Silvantis."

"The one in the statue at the temple? And on the door carving of the palace?"

"The same one."

She sat back and shook her head in disbelief. "I cannot fathom it. A dragon recognized Vix's pain and decided to save him? When surely the dragon was hungry and thirsty himself."

"I've told you before. Dragons aren't mere beasts. They're highly intelligent. Not only that, but they have a large capacity to feel emotion. This dragon saw Vix in pain and felt sympathy and decided to save him. So Vix took him into his home deep in the mountains."

"So he kept Silvantis forever?"

"They were friends. I'd say they kept each other. I told you once that dragons have no masters."

She looked over the balcony and then up to the moonlit sky. "So you don't own Drakmir? He won't come whenever you summon him?"

"He always comes."

She tilted her head, the three braids at her temple sliding forward. "And what service did you do for Drakmir?"

"You truly believed that one of my ancestors mated with a dragon?"

"Well, not really," she admitted, a blush coloring her neck and cheeks. "But it's curious. Your eyes." She stared again.

I let her. I drank it in, relishing her intense scrutiny and obvious fascination. Whatever means I could employ so that I might ensnare her, I would. For the gods knew, she'd caught and caged my very soul.

If she begged me to leave, I wouldn't let her. If she swore to me that she'd never laugh again if I didn't release her back to her home in Issos, I'd still not let her go. If she cursed me and swore she'd take her own life, I'd bind her to her bed.

Some power beyond me—and her—had consumed my thoughts with the need to have her near me. Rapture wasn't quite right to describe it. Neither was bewitchment. It was closer to a curse. Especially since I'd all but abducted her from her home and would soon be forcing her into my bed. Repeatedly.

The mere thought both made me hard and sickened. Every time I tried to reason that keeping her my prisoner was enough, keeping her within my palace walls would suffice, a lurking darkness whispered that she must be mine in all ways. In the most carnal ways.

There was no escape for the pretty princess. She was going to be mine.