To escape the tension indoors, Sly and Calvin wandered through the garden, whiling away time while Liam recovered.
“Help! Help!”
“Did you hear that?” Calvin stopped in the middle of the gravel path.
Sly lifted his head, searching for the source of the feminine cry, glad of the distraction. Yellow flowers—fluffy balls of sunshine—filled the garden beds. Another display of red flowers grew to their right. Beyond the formal plantings, large trees thrust skyward, their green canopies thick enough to block the light.
“Is someone there? Help. Please help!”
“Cinnabar!” Sly sprinted toward the trees.
Once they left the gardens, leaves crunched under their feet. More dead leaves than he recalled the last time he’d come in this direction.
“Cinnabar?” Sly called.
“Sly, is that you? Over here!”
Sly raced around the bend in the path and skidded to a halt. Calvin plowed into the back of him, almost knocking him off his feet. Sly regained his balance, moved closer to the tree trunk and looked upward.
“Sly! Thank the goddess.” Cinnabar clung to a tree branch, awkwardly sitting on another. “I don’t understand what happened. I-I have been avoiding Princess Iseabal as much as I can. And…and I was perched in the tree and suddenly, I regained my form. I almost fell on my head, and now I can’t get down.”
“Cinnabar, listen to me. I want you to climb farther out onto the branch—”
“I’ll fall.”
“Yes, you will, but I’ll catch you. I promise, sweetheart. I won’t let you hit the ground. No. Don’t overthink. Just do it, Cinnabar.” Sly injected an order into his tone. “I guess you weren’t expecting to change forms so suddenly, huh?”
“No.”
“Cinnabar, you’re not moving.”
“If I fall and kill myself, Sly Mitchell, I will come back and haunt you.”
“That’s fine, sweetheart. I expect nothing less.”
Sly watched anxiously while Cinnabar inched along the branch. “Good. That’s right. Now let go and I’ll catch you.” The fear digging into her features gutted him, blasted him with adrenaline. “Ready?”
“Y-yes.”
“Let go.”
He caught his breath as she hesitated, then her fingers relaxed and she dropped. She landed in his arms in a whoosh of white skirts, momentarily blinding him.
“You caught me,” she whispered.
“I promised, didn’t I?”
“That’s a very fetching pair of legs,” Calvin said, having remained silent until this moment.
Cinnabar gasped and wriggled frantically. Sly set her on the ground and helped her right her skirts. “Oh! Your Majesty.” She bobbed a quick curtsy.
“This is turning into a most diverting holiday,” Calvin said. “I haven’t had such fun for…I don’t know. Many, many solar cycles.”
“Calvin, this is Cinnabar.”
“I heard,” Calvin said languidly. “You know, I could’ve used my magic and had her down in a blink.”
Sly muttered a curse. “Why didn’t you say?”
“You didn’t give me a chance.” Calvin nudged Sly with his shoulder, mischief glimmering in his strong features. “Besides, you had everything under control.”
“Knock that smile off your face.” Sly took half a step before he controlled the urge to help him.
“Sly.” Cinnabar tugged at his arm. “That’s the king of the winter court. You can’t punch him.”
“Someone should,” Sly said as Calvin’s smile broadened to smart-arse and toothy.
“Why did I change forms?” Cinnabar tilted her head to the side. “What’s happened?”
“Liam did a truth spell,” Calvin said.
Cinnabar gasped, seeming to forget her awe of the king. “But that’s dangerous. Is he all right?”
“He will be,” Calvin said.
Cinnabar shivered and Sly wrapped his arm around her waist.
“It’s a bit cooler now that I have arrived in Seelie,” Calvin said. “Come, let us resume walking.”
Sly shrugged out of his coat and helped Cinnabar don the charcoal-gray garment.
“I don’t understand. Will I turn into an owl again?”
“No, sweetheart,” Calvin said. “Liam discovered his sister’s treachery and stopped it.”
“Enough with the endearments,” Sly snapped.
“Sly, he’s the king of the winter court,” Cinnabar chided again.
“He’s a pain in my arse,” Sly countered.
Calvin wiggled his eyebrows, golden eyes dancing and teasing. “Yes, a most diverting holiday. Shall we finish our walk and check on Liam? Is there a back entrance? I tire of people bowing to me.”
Sly rolled his eyes at Calvin, and the infuriating man laughed. “Someone should kick your butt.”
Cinnabar moaned and trembled against his side. “Sly!”
Calvin guffawed harder, hunching forward and holding his belly.
Sly shoved Calvin off the path and guided Cinnabar past.
“Hey, don’t go without me.”
“He’s annoying. Keep walking,” Sly directed, as Calvin, still smirking, trotted to catch up.
Guided by Cinnabar, they ambled down paths Sly hadn’t yet discovered. Many of the leaves were turning color. Greens transforming to red and gold. Pink changing to fiery red and a hotter pink.
“Are you staying for long?” Cinnabar asked timidly.
“Not this time. Only until Liam recovers and is officially crowned king. The plants should recover.”
“Princess Iseabal is confined to her room,” Sly said. “She won’t bother you again. Calum admitted to killing the king and attempting to murder Liam.”
Cinnabar gasped, her hand flying upward to cover her mouth.
“What will Liam do with him?” Sly asked as the path ended and they emerged by the lake.
The white stag stood under a tree, chewing its cud. Sly stared at the beautiful creature, its antlers curved with age.
“He has no choice. Calum will be executed. It is what I’d do.” Calvin jerked his head at the stag. “His presence confirms a death.”
As they watched, the stag ambled into the trees. A somber quiet fell over the threesome as they turned and retraced their footsteps.
“I want to check on Liam,” Calvin said.
“We’ll come with you.” Sly ignored Cinnabar’s quiver. He’d ask Liam if Cinnabar might go home with him. That’s if Cinnabar wanted to stay with him. He wanted to learn more of her, spend time with her without fear of the ticking clock or Princess Iseabal.
Cinnabar’s trembles increased as they approached Liam’s royal security men, stationed at his tower entrance.
Sly lowered his head to whisper in her ear. “It’s all right, sweetheart. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“Princess Iseabal—”
“She can’t hurt you.”
“King Liam will see you now,” the security guard said, and opened the door wider for them to enter.
Sly exerted force at Cinnabar’s back to propel her forward.
King Liam lay on his bed, his normally golden face tinged with blue. His smile seemed forced, and Sly frowned. He hadn’t realized the truth spell would sap so much of his energy.
“Ah, Cinnabar. The housekeeper has arranged a chamber for you, not far from Sly’s.” He paused. “No sharing chambers or rumors will fly.”
Cinnabar flushed. “I understand, Your Majesty.”
“I don’t,” Sly said.
“Liam and I can’t share our beds with lovers without much pre-planning, so neither can you,” Calvin said. “Our people do not have sex before marriage. No, let me correct that. The women should not have sex before marriage. Those are long-standing rules.” His focus fell on Cinnabar, drifted to Sly.
“Your rules suck.”
Calvin rolled his eyes. “Our ancestors wished to ensure they didn’t end up with another man’s child in their nest.”
While Sly understood, he preferred to keep Cinnabar close. “What can we do to help you regain your energy?”
“Only rest and time will help.”
“I want to go home,” Sly said. “My family will be worried about me.”
“Can you wait a few days? The journey to Ione Island via our main entrance point will take four days, but if I can recover and open the portal Iseabal used, you will arrive home sooner.”
Liam’s suggestion made sense, and he owed the king for helping him. “All right.”
“And you must promise to visit me. I consider you a friend,” Liam said.
“I, too,” Calvin added.
“You are a friend, Liam, although I’m not so sure about your cousin. He keeps winding me up.”
Both men stared at him blankly. “An Earth saying. It means that he teases me,” Sly added. “We sometimes say, ‘Can you feel the key in your back?’ to indicate winding up.”
Calvin laughed. “Tell us more of this place. Liam, order refreshments so we can listen and revive ourselves after our exercise.”
Sly seated Cinnabar on a padded chair and squeezed her shoulder. His sister or one of his brothers’ mates would’ve demanded clothes, a shower. Not Cinnabar. She perched on the edge of the chair, ready to bolt. Sly retrieved two more chairs and arranged them near Liam’s bed.
He claimed the one next to Cinnabar and reached for her hand.
Once a pot of tay and small cakes arrived, Sly started his story.
“My family comes from a planet called Earth. We lived in New Zealand, a small island nation. A feline disease struck and many of our people died.”
Liam blinked. “Wait. Feline?”
“Yes, we are a shapeshifting race. We have this form, and that of a black leopard.”
“Show us,” Calvin demanded.
Worry slid through him like a slithering snake. Voicing the truth made it real. What if he could never shift again? It’d suck. “That might be a problem. Since you got Iseabal to lift the spell and my mind has become clearer, I haven’t felt my other form.”
Calvin and Liam exchanged silent messages.
“It might be something to do with the spell Iseabal used,” Liam said finally.
“Or it’s possibly the veil over Seelie,” Calvin suggested. “Intriguing. I have heard of shifter races before but I’ve never met one.”
“I saw big cats when I was at the resort,” Cinnabar blurted, drawing their attention. She hunched her shoulders, obviously trying to look smaller.
“Don’t fear,” Liam said. “Neither Calvin nor I will harm you. You have suffered enough at Iseabal’s hands. I understand you’ve been forced into owl form for a long time.”
“She fed me micelets.” Cinnabar swallowed hard but couldn’t prevent her dry retch.
Sly growled, the sound distinctly feline. “I’ve a mind to feed her micelets. See how she likes eating them.”
Liam expelled a choking gasp. He stared at his hands, shoulders quivering. “M-micelets? Iseabal?”
“Maybe you should eat one,” Sly said in distinct warning. No one made fun of Cinnabar. Hell, no one blamed her for her skittishness. She’d spent at least three years—according to Liam, since he hadn’t seen her for that long—cursed to her owl form. Cinnabar didn’t feel safe yet, but she showed sparks of independence, traces of the woman she could be. Sly craved that woman, one who’d stand up to him and give him hell if he deserved it.
“Sorry, it was the vision of Iseabal and micelets, which set off my inappropriate humor. Iseabal shall receive her punishment,” Liam promised. “Continue. Tell us about your family.”
“I have a twin brother. Joe. I have three other brothers, all older. Saber is the leader of our people. It was his idea to leave Earth when the virus became prevalent. Felix and Leo are next. All three of my older brothers have mates. Our mother is still alive and we have one sister. Scarlett.”
Again, Liam and Calvin shared a glance, and Sly tsk-tsked. “Scarlett is impossible. She’s stubborn. Outspoken. Intelligent. A smart-arse.”
“Describe her physical traits,” Calvin ordered.
No. Bad idea. Both men resembled slobbering wolves. “She has the Mitchell black hair. Long, in her case. Green eyes. And that’s all you’re getting. I’ll be warning her about the pair of you. How you live in the middle of intrigue and magic. Scarlett likes her freedom. Her independence. She designs jewelry, collects semi-precious stones. She uses tools and fire.”
“I’ll gift her with as many stones as she wishes,” Liam purred.
Sly threw up his hands and turned to Cinnabar. “Did you meet Scarlett?”
“She checked Princess Iseabal into the resort.” Cinnabar lifted her chin. “She is beautiful and full of life. Sly is right. She speaks her mind and would hate the restrictions here.”
“A challenge,” Calvin mused.
“You may escort me home and I’ll introduce you to my family,” Sly said. “You are welcome to visit anytime.”
Cinnabar went silent, hunched into herself. Crap. He wanted to take her home with him. He’d take her for a walk after dinner, go to the lakeside where they’d spent so much time together. Ask her to live at the resort or at least visit. Give her a place of safety to regroup, regather her confidence. And he’d date her. Dinner. Dancing. Long walks together. He’d get to know her again without Princess Iseabal getting in the way.
Yeah, that sounded like an excellent plan.
“It’s not advisable for me to absent myself from the kingdom for too long.” Liam’s disappointment swirled through the air, smelling like old boots and holey socks.
Cinnabar coughed, swallowed. “Ah, the portal is close. I can show you where it is, but I can’t open it. Princess Iseabal told me it will open only for those of royal personage. If you use the portal, you can visit for a few hours and return before anyone realizes you’re missing.”
Liam perked up and the air quality shifted to a piney green.
“Is this true?” Calvin demanded of Sly. “I hadn’t thought much about the practicalities of leaving Seelie for too long.”
“I don’t recall,” Sly said.
Cinnabar straightened, pushing back her shoulders. “It’s true.”
“It’s settled then. We’ll go as soon as I regain my strength,” Liam declared.
Sly sipped his pale green tay. “I thought you wanted to wait until you were officially crowned king.”
“With all that has happened, I’ve decided to wave that tradition and start in the way I mean to go on. Calvin has agreed to make the formal announcement, naming me king of Seelie, two cycles hence. I must deal with Calum and Iseabal, and I think it best if you go sooner rather than later. I hate to say it, but I don’t trust my sister. I intend to bind her magic, again with Calvin’s help. No one should prey on those weaker. Iseabal has made it a game, and no one had ever informed me or our father for fear of reprisal. This stops.”
“Hush, cousin. You require calm to regain your strength.”
Sly nodded at Calvin. “Liam, let me tell you about a game we played on Earth. We haven’t had time to organize games here, but it occurred to me that the grass paddock near the stables would make a perfect rugby pitch. It would be a friendly way for your people to interact with my family and friends. If my brother Saber agrees, of course. There are fifteen men per team plus six reserves…”
Sly noted Liam’s and Calvin’s intense interest as he explained the rules and the history of the game. They didn’t know it, but he, his brothers and cousins would crush them. Fun times ahead.
Sly was leaving.
Cinnabar’s fingers pressed against her breast, willing the empty ache to fade. She’d known he’d want to return home. Understood it, even. But, oh, she’d miss him. Tears pricked her eyes. She refused to let them fall. She wore a clean blue gown and a pair of comfortable leather shoes. Things could be worse. Micelets were worse. A shudder momentarily usurped the throb in her chest.
The courtiers at the neighboring table—two elderly women and two younger ones—kept staring at her. Whispering. And they weren’t the only ones. Most had avoided her since her reappearance, but one or two bolder ones had approached and asked pointed questions. Where was her husband? Had she run away from him? Why was she here?
Cinnabar might no longer fly as an owl but Princess Iseabal’s curse continued to exact revenge.
She placed the spoon back in her bowl, no longer hungry. Not even the rich scent of vegetable and grain soup tempted her appetite.
Sly was leaving, and he’d take her heart with him.
“You’re quiet,” Sly said, touching her arm for attention.
She jerked. The spoon jumped from her bowl and clattered, striking the bowl, the table and finally the floor.
Heads turned in the big salon. Whispers heated the air. More gossip. Her cheeks burned and a self-conscious sweat heated her skin. Hot. Too hot.
“Sorry,” she whispered. “It’s so noisy. So many people. Their hungry stares are pecking me.”
“Don’t let them see your distress,” Sly commanded.
“He’s right, my dear,” Lady Jasper said.
Beatrice, their other dining companion, tut-tutted but not in a mean-spirited way. “Sly is correct, my dear. Lift your head and stare them in the eyes until they grow uncomfortable. If you act guilty, they’ll believe you culpable.”
The two elderly ladies were incredibly supportive and friendly.
“I’ll try.” Cinnabar lifted her head, turned it slightly and met the regard of Merry Jacobs, one of the worst gossips in the kingdom. Might as well start big. She forced a cool think-what-you-want smile and stared down her nose until the bosomy matron huffed out a breath and returned her attention to her heaped plate of wild boar.
Lady Jasper patted her hand. “Oh, well done.”
Tiny steps. She could do this. The king had told her nothing was impossible. King Calvin had offered her a home at the winter court. Sly had said nothing.
Confusion sapped her bravery.
She drew in a shuddering breath and felt the weight of a stare. Sly. She forced a smile, one which Sly returned with a heat that brought warmth to her face, her private places. Yet her mind remained cool. She’d given him her body. Gone with her desires, even though she’d known no other man would want her—accept her—after she’d been with Sly.
A mistake.
Yet, at the time, she’d thought she would remain an owl for the rest of her life.
And the truth. Even now, she’d make the same decision.
“Would you like to go for a walk after our meal?” Sly asked. “The gardens are beautiful.”
“Too cool for me,” Lady Jasper said. “Always the same when King Calvin visits.”
“I do better when the winter court goes home,” Beatrice agreed. “That east wind is icy. Cuts through my bones, it does.”
Cinnabar caught Sly’s momentary shock and realized he meant a private walk. With her. He hadn’t meant to invite the two elderly women.
A laugh burst free, attracting attention. This time she didn’t care. “I’d love to go for a walk.”
“Take a coat,” Lady Jasper ordered.
“Of course. It is cold with the winter court here.” Cinnabar’s smile fitted her mouth better this time. Sly had asked her to go for a walk. Maybe he’d kiss her too. A moment for her to remember later, once Sly returned to his family.
And she could visit from wherever she decided to live.
The long meal ended. Thank sugarplums. The king left the salon with King Calvin, ostensibly speaking to him about a personal matter, yet, with her inside knowledge, Cinnabar noticed the way King Liam leaned and King Calvin propped him upright.
At least the gossip about her had halted closer scrutiny of the king. A positive point.
“Are you ready for our walk?” Sly asked. “You get a coat, and I’ll meet you by the side door, leading to the gardens.”
Cinnabar nodded and hurried away to get a jacket. Habit led her footsteps to her old room in the servants’ quarters. A wise choice, since she didn’t have a coat amongst her new clothes. Her old room, not much more than a broom closet, remained undisturbed. Dusty, with the pervading scent of kitchen greens, since it shared a wall with the scullery. So small and crowded with the bed, none of the other servants had wanted it.
Ah, her coat. She pulled it from a wall peg and shrugged into it. Although tatty and well-worn, it was warm.
She found Sly waiting.
“I thought you might’ve got lost.”
“I had to get my coat from my old chamber. I didn’t have enough magic to summon it, so it took longer.”
“Sorry,” Sly said, reaching for her hand. “I assumed you’d have warm clothes.”
“Most residents at the castle promenade through the rooms within the castle, especially during visits between the courts. They don’t require warm clothes.”
“Never mind. You’re here now. Let’s go.” He tugged her past the two security guards at the door. “We’re going for a walk.”
“Yes, my lord,” the tallest of the two guards said, his manner cheerful yet his blue eyes alert. “My lady.”
Respect. She didn’t often garner respect. Sly’s doing. She elevated her chin, feeling better about herself than she had for a long, long time.
The icy breeze lifted her hair, and she raised her collar to cut the chill. Dried leaves, newly fallen, littered the gravel paths winding between bedraggled blooms. When the path allowed them to walk side by side, Sly drew her closer and wrapped his arm around her waist. He smelled of soap and honey and citrus. Delicious and enticing. She breathed in his scent again because she enjoyed the process. Memories. She’d hoard them now because soon she’d be alone, probably in Unseelie, since she’d hate to be at the mercy of Princess Iseabal again.
She’d never survive a second curse.
Princess Iseabal didn’t make mistakes twice.
It was time to face her fears head on. “Are you looking forward to going home?”
“Yes. I miss my twin. Now that I remember Joe, it’s weird he’s not with me. We do most things together. My day isn’t right without him around.”
“I know he is identical, but does he enjoy the same things?”
Sly’s quick glance sliced and diced and dissected until she quivered with awareness. Even though they hadn’t known each other for long, she liked him so much. He was honest. A loyal friend. He didn’t treat those weaker than him as objects. He spoke to them, asked them questions, and she’d noticed the king did the same. No longer did the staff scuttle around the castle with their heads down, avoiding eye contact.
“Joe loves farming and our tastes in women are similar. Just as well I met you first.”
“Me?”
Sly came to an abrupt halt. He turned her to face him, his dark brows furrowed in a deep frown. “I thought you’d come home with me. Don’t you want to? Would you prefer to stay in Seelie?”
“You want me to go with you?”
He stroked her cheek with the tips of callused fingers, his pretty green eyes serious. “I do, but if you’d prefer to stay here, we’ll make it work. I can visit you. I want to introduce you to my family, and it’d be pleasing to make love with you in my own bed. I’d like to wake up with you and go to sleep with you by my side.”
“Yes. Yes,” she whispered, her pulse beating fast and thundering in her ears. He wanted her to go with him. Joy spread through her, her smile more natural.
“Excellent.” He dipped his head and captured her lips with his. He devoured her, holding her so close her breasts flirted with his chest. Tiny tingles of excitement radiated from the point of contact and she moaned, craving more physical contact.
Sly pulled back with a groan. “One touch and I forget everything. Come on, let’s continue our walk. I’ll kiss you again when we get to the lake.”
“Promise!”
Sly gave her a one-armed hug and grinned. “My mother will love you.”
Cinnabar swallowed, attempted to moisturize her dry throat. Yes, nerves skipped in her stomach, but it was because she scarcely believed she’d escaped the curse. Okay. Not quite true. The idea of meeting Sly’s family stressed her a little. She had no standing. A lady-in-waiting. A glorified maid with little to contribute. What would they think?
“Ma will enjoy meeting my girlfriend.”
“I’m your girlfriend?”
Sly groaned. “I’m not doing a decent job of this. Walk. We’ll talk at the lake.”
A future. A potential future with Sly. Away from Seelie and the princess. She sought Sly’s hand and laced her fingers with his. Her smile—elusive earlier—refused to quit. He truly wanted her. Something broken inside her mended at the realization, and she had the absurd desire to sing and dance.
The lunar star peeked from behind clouds and wind whistled over the lake, whipping up choppy waves on the surface.
Sly tugged her behind a rock formation, and instantly her hair settled, the chill cut by the shelter of the stones. “Now I get to kiss you properly.”
“Yes, please,” Cinnabar said, and went into his arms to meet him halfway.
“But first,” he whispered. “I want you to understand exactly what I want for the future. I want to have dinner with you and dance. I’d like to walk in the moonlight and show you my feline side. I intend to woo you and hopefully, you’ll share my bed. I find I sleep better with you next to me. I want to get to know you better and show you how a future could be between us. How does that sound? Are you willing to try that?”
“Yes to everything.” Cinnabar nodded emphatically.
“Thank the stars,” Sly said.
He studied her for a long moment, groaned and kissed her. They didn’t come up for air for a long, long time.