“No,” she says through her teeth, her golden eyes twinkling with anger. “It means that he was using it to manipulate people like puppets. Whoever drinks enchanted blood is bound to do the blood master’s bidding. It’s breaking or bending free will. But wait. If the Grand Mage was getting ready for such a ritual, then his partners are here somewhere as well. Maybe they are on their way to this very room. We can uncover the entire dirty secret, Your Highness.” A new pleasure pools in my heart—I’m proud of the way she plays along.
“How unfortunate, that you don’t know anything about the Firestone, Marcus,” I address the naked man on the floor. “Not your fault, I understand, but you know how it is. Now I’ll have to share your illegal activities with the world. In fact, if we wait just a little bit longer, we might get your partners, too, while we’re at it. I trust they will betray the rest of your secrets to save their own skin. What do you say, Miss Dark? Are we in a hurry, or can we afford to wait just a little bit longer?”
“I don’t see why not,” she replies, taking a seat on the bed, and crossing her legs. Fuck, those thighs in latex, I have to look away.
“Or we can just go looking for the others.” I tap my nose. “I have their scents now, I can track them down. That way we can use them directly as witnesses. We can then just deliver them to the Council of the Arcane.”
“Sounds like a plan,” she muses, picking up Nazarean, who’s nestled at her feet. With the black cat in her arms, she looks like a dominatrix witch, but one with the face of a pure angel. One my inner beast is dying to defile.
But as she stands, the Grand Mage breaks.
“Wait,” he screeches, hand outstretched, long, livid fingers splayed. “He might have passed something down, the former Grand Mage. His files, they’re all down in my office. Just let me go and get them for you.”
I bare my teeth. “You’re not the most creative man, are you Marcus? I’m sure you understand we can’t let you go anywhere until we have what we came here for.”
“Then come with me. I’ll cast an invisibility spell over the both of you, so the guards don’t see you.”
Cerys steps in front of me, caressing Nazarean with elegant strokes. “If you even think of casting another type of spell, I’ll know. I’ll touch the King of Flames just once, and he’ll incinerate you in an instant. Do you understand?”
Something blooms in my chest. The prospect of doing what she orders thrills me. Turns out having a fated mate is more dangerous than I thought. It makes obeying a woman gratifying.
“I have to... I must get dressed,” Marcus pleads.
“Go ahead. We’re not stopping you.”
Neither Cerys nor I turn around as he gets off the floor, trying to hide the essential parts of his nakedness with his hands. My jaw ticks. I hate it that Cerys gets to see him naked, and I can’t help wondering if she’s seen naked men before.
While we watch Marcus get dressed I let that possibility run through my mind. It could be that Cerys isn’t a virgin. Maybe there’s a boyfriend out there, maybe one of the guards she’s been living with for a whole year, someone she’s not telling me about. Of course, she wouldn’t tell me. She’d be protecting him, wouldn’t she? We might both hate it, but the more time we spend together, the more our connection strengthens. We are fated mates, which means that any relationship any of us might have outside this bond is betrayal.
But she hasn’t really betrayed me. It’s not like she’s been my fated mate since forever. I, as a High Fae, did not have a fated mate from the start, I had a pool of people I could have connected with. But Cerys was the best match that was ever born. Still, the connection between us was created the first time we locked eyes. Nothing bound her to me until that moment, which means she could have easily been with other men.
I steal glances at her from the corner of my eye as the Grand Mage gets ready. Fuck, questions have started to spin in my head, and I can’t fucking stop them. I’ve never felt like this before, the veins swelling under my skin with the need to know. I suppose I’m gonna need a blood oath from her, too. I need her to swear to me there is no one in her life, and if there is, I need his name.
Marcus faces us, now dressed in one of his Grand Mage robes, leading us to the door. He raises his hand, drawing a rune in the air, and his spell falls like a transparent veil around Cerys and me. It encapsulates us together, the energy of our bodies mingling, the heat of mine enwrapping hers.
We successfully pass the two guards at the door, even though I think one of them reacted. I glance back only enough to see his flared nostrils and his focused gaze. Marcus must have signaled to him in some way that he’s under threat, but there’s nothing I can do about it now, not without blowing our cover.
I think up a new plan for when we’re downstairs, but because of Cerys’ close proximity I have trouble focusing. Marcus leads us quickly down the spiraling stairs, hitching up his robe like a princess. By the time we reach the office emotion rages inside me like a hungry animal, and I don’t understand half of the things I feel. All I know for sure is that I’m angry, and that I can’t stop wondering if Cerys has ever let a man kiss her. Her scent tells me she might still be a virgin, and considering her young age there’s a chance she still is, but kissing? That’s something youngsters do as soon as they can play with voodoo dolls.
“When you called me Your Highness,” I breathe, so only she can hear me. “Why didn’t you call me Milord, like everybody else?”
“Because you are not my lord,” she replies evenly, and the need to grab her and yank her close strangles me. Fuck, these feelings are so new I don’t know how to handle them.
The need to bring her to her knees rises in my groin. To subjugate her. But no, that would be the road to hell. Any form of intimacy between us would strengthen our connection. It’s paramount that she keeps thinking the worst of me, and that I keep pushing against what I feel for her. Maybe I can try to hate her for having been with another man...or maybe there were more of them?
“The fuck.” The curse slips through my teeth, and the Grand Mage flinches. He looks over his shoulder at us with big eyes, hunch-backed under his shiny robe. I could haul him against a wall right now, punish him for having signaled his guards, but I have to refrain. Everything at the right time.
By the time he leads us inside his huge office with a vaulted ceiling, a room that looks more like the altar of a cathedral than a study, I’ve outlined a plan in my mind. I close the double doors behind us, and throw off the magic veil the Grand Mage’s spell cast over us.
“I gather that your guards will be here soon, so I suggest that you move very fast,” I declare.
“What?” Cerys yelps.
“Our dear Grand Mage signaled to them that he was under duress.” I grab his arm harshly. “Now you’re gonna give me what your ancestor has passed down to you. Right this hot minute, all of it, or I’ll snap your neck and leave you for dead.” I knock him into his cushioned desk chair. He stares up at me with a terrified look on his face.
“Now,” I snarl, and both the Grand Mage and Cerys flinch. He scrambles up to his feet, desperately searching through his drawers. He curses when he doesn’t find what he’s looking for fast enough.