Iseabal stood at her chamber window and watched Sly and Cinnabar stroll hand in hand through the garden before they ambled past her line of vision.
The traitorous bitch.
Cinnabar had spoiled her plans even while cursed to an owl form. She’d decided her lady-in-waiting was too cowed to act independently, but she’d been so wrong. Now she thought about it, once they’d returned from Middlemarch Resort, she’d seen little of Cinnabar. The owl had kept her distance, only presenting herself when Iseabal ordered.
Now she knew why. The mouselet had gained courage.
Well, she’d soon stop that.
Iseabal continued staring out the window from her vantage point and spied the pair as they rounded a bend. They stopped to talk, then merged as one.
She hissed, her eyes narrowing while anger lent rigidity to her muscles. It was worse than she feared. Cinnabar had sunk her claws into the weak man. No wonder he’d spurned her company and preferred the outdoors, either walking or spending hours with her conniving brother.
All that time, they’d laughed behind her back.
And her plans to oust her brother had turned to dust.
“Ooh!” Iseabal stamped her right foot, a vein ticking to life in her neck. She stomped back and forth. Back and forth. She should’ve insisted on an immediate reading of the banns. She shouldn’t have allowed him time to recuperate. And she shouldn’t have misjudged the initial spell.
She’d pay to get her hands on that hussy Cinnabar.
Iseabal prowled a circuit of her chamber, testing the magical spells trapping her within her prison. Unfortunately, they were strong and stable, since their horned cousin had lent assistance. Liam had stationed two guards on the door with orders to freeze her, should she cross the threshold without authorization.
There must be a way to escape.
A weakness.
She’d find it—and make Cinnabar sorry.
Sly. Her brother. Her cousin.
She would punish them all because no one treated her this way.
No one.
She’d heard Sly intended to leave on the morrow. If she failed to escape before Sly returned home, she’d live with that. Cinnabar, however, would pay. And this time, she’d suffer. She’d rue the day she’d betrayed Princess Iseabal.
But first, first she must discover an escape path to break past the enclosure spell.
She needed to act swiftly, before Liam regained his strength. She’d practiced faithfully for this day and was confident she could out-magic her weakened brother. Calvin, though, presented a problem.
Yes, a plan. Time to think of a plan.
Iseabal studied her door and commenced a systematic scan for weak points. Escaping her jail was a starting point. Revenge came next.
* * * * *
Evening fell, and after dinner with Calvin and Liam, Sly bid them good evening and left Liam’s chamber.
Liam had almost recovered. A relief, since Sly hated leaving Liam vulnerable. The castle housed too many backstabbing courtiers for his liking. At least he’d noticed those with power had ceased torturing the servants. He hadn’t worn spots or a tail since the truth spell.
“Are you retiring for the evening, my lord?” one of the two security guards asked.
“Yes,” Sly said. “It’s been an eventful day.”
He strode down the passage in the direction of his chamber, but took a right into another corridor, pausing to sneak a fresh bloom from one of the urns. He grinned. He wasn’t lost this time and had a destination in mind.
He tapped on the second door, opened it and darted inside.
“Sly.” Cinnabar straightened, a brush in hand.
“I came to brush your hair for you.”
“Oh.” Heat crept into her golden cheeks, delighting him.
He’d kiss her there to taste the spicy heat of her cheek.
“And I thought I might stay. I’m frightened of the dark.”
Her lips quirked in an almost smile, as if she guessed his devious plan. “My reputation will suffer.”
“You’re coming home with me to Middlemarch Resort. My family will like you because you’re my girlfriend. They’re good that way. But, if it will make you happy, no one saw me arrive, and I’ll sneak out in the same furtive manner. No one will know I’ve spent the night with you.”
“Do men and women sleep together where you come from? Without censure?”
“Yes, although it wasn’t always that way. Over history, habits and customs have changed, which means my family and friends won’t bat an eyelid if I stay with you overnight or we share a room.”
“It’s not the Seelie way.”
“Too much talking.” Sly prowled closer. “I missed you at dinner.”
“I ate with Lady Jasper and Beatrice.”
“Perfect.” He’d asked if they’d keep an eye on Cinnabar. Rumors were rife and he hadn’t wanted her alone. Moving on. He placed his hands on her shoulders. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”
She wrinkled her nose at her ruby-colored robe.
Cinnabar had gained in confidence, and he enjoyed the change. “You think I’m wearing more clothes than you?”
“Yes.” Her cute nose wrinkled again.
Maybe he’d kiss her nose first. “That won’t be an issue. Not at first.”
Her beautiful eyes glowed with humor. “Why?”
“I’ll show you.” Sly slipped her robe off her shoulders and it pooled at her feet, leaving her naked.
Her hands rose to cover her breasts.
“No, don’t hide from me.” He backed her toward her narrow single bed. She toppled and he caged her beneath him. Her mouth shaped into an O and he couldn’t resist. He kissed her, tasting her, moving against her softness. He gloried in the sensations, the feel of her, and he groaned when she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Her mouth was hot and wet, her lips tempting. A hungry little noise escaped her as he increased his erotic assault and caressed her arms and hip with his fingers.
He slid his hands over her shoulders then cupped one of her breasts, shaping the weighty globes. Lovely. He trailed kisses down her neck, lingering at the fleshy part between shoulder and neck. That part of her tasted delicious and made him want to nibble. It was his feline instincts at work—or at least a hint of them. He pushed aside the niggle of worry about his missing feline self, and he moved lower, cupping both breasts and tasting her nipples.
“Sly.” She tugged at his hair to the point of pain.
“Hey,” he protested.
She grinned and lightened her grip, her captivating smile warming him through. Once she regained her self-assurance, she’d be mischievous and playful. He knew it. She’d relaxed already since Iseabal had reversed the curse.
He returned his attention to her nipples, sucking and teasing and pushing her while his own body heated in a slow burn. He ran his hands over her rib cage, the elegant curve of her hip, before moving lower and parting her thighs. Cinnabar tensed as he pressed a kiss to her inner thigh.
“Relax, sweetheart. Let me make you feel good. Do you trust me?” He waited, happy to exercise patience.
But she never hesitated. “Yes.”
Proud of her brave spirit, he stroked her hip and kissed her inner thigh again. Once. Twice. Three times. She quivered, her breathing harsh.
His hearing had improved, seeming sharper. His ability to discern scent. Cinnabar’s honeyed scent with the overtones of cinnamon spices deepened as he kissed closer to her pussy. He parted her folds, ran his tongue down her slit. Her flavor burst over his tongue, and when he skimmed her clit and hummed, she moaned. Desire, liquid and molten, smoothed his way. He nuzzled and sucked, his fingers teasing. Then, he cupped her bottom and lifted her to his mouth. He strummed with his tongue until she cried out, trembling.
“Please, Sly! Please. Stop torturing me.”
“But it’s so much fun.”
As he tongued the sensitive nub, he slipped a finger inside her channel. In. Out. In. Out.
She lifted her hips, taking his digit deeper. She cried out again, and he curled his forefinger inside her, a deliberate, probing stroke.
“Yes.” She made a dark sound as sexual hunger and pleasure claimed her. Her clit vibrated beneath his tongue while her sheath contracted around his finger.
“Sly!”
He grinned against her flesh. Yes, with her confidence in place, he’d need to fight off the single men at the resort. His brother. His cousins. His friends. They’d flirt with her, give him hell. He couldn’t wait to witness her bloom and shine as he introduced her to his world.
When she quieted, he shifted up the bed, taking her mouth in a possessive kiss. The more he touched her and kissed her, the more he wanted her.
While he intended to woo her and give her a chance to grow, he’d stand aside for no man.
Cinnabar was his woman.
His mate.
* * * * *
The next morning
“Are you going to eat your fruit?” Sly asked Cinnabar.
She shoved it away with a moue of distaste. “I’m nervous. My stomach is churning.”
“You can stay in Seelie if you want,” Sly said, forcing out the words when everything inside him protested in a vicious haka. It seemed he retained some of his New Zealand roots if he wanted to do a war dance. “Liam will protect you.” He received a nod from his friend.
“Or move to the winter court,” Calvin offered, leaning back in his chair.
Sly snorted. If the man got any more comfortable, he’d need popcorn.
“No.” Cinnabar lifted her chin. “I want to go with you.”
“Good girl,” Calvin said. “Nerves are normal. Liam and I hold some anxiety when it comes to meeting Sly’s family.”
Sly barely smothered his snort, turning it into a cough at the last second.
Liam grinned. “It’s true. We’re worried about Scarlett.”
“I’m worried Liam’s confidence is misplaced, and he won’t manage the portal,” Calvin said.
Sly did snort this time, and Cinnabar giggled.
“I think we’re ready,” Sly said. “Do you have our luggage?”
“Yes, I had enough magic to shrink our belongings. Everything is inside my bag.” She pointed to a small bag on a long strap that she’d draped over one shoulder.
“Nifty trick,” Sly said. They hadn’t discussed magic. He figured Cinnabar didn’t possess much and he’d gradually learn of her abilities. That trick would come in handy around the resort.
As they stood, a servant approached. He bowed to Liam. “Your Majesty, a messenger has arrived from Dalcon for you.”
“Ah,” Liam said. “I must speak with him. Why don’t the three of you meet me at the portal? I know roughly where it is, since Cinnabar has described the area to me.”
“You can use a location spell,” Calvin suggested.
“It seems strange, leaving Seelie,” Cinnabar said. “But the resort is pretty. I’d like to swim in the pool and try one of those fruity drinks.”
“I can arrange that.” Sly contemplated her curves, highlighted in the pale blue gown she wore, and a rakish grin bloomed. “I can’t wait to see you in a bikini.”
“Maybe I should cover my eyes and ears,” Calvin said as Liam departed with the servant.
Sly grinned. “Let’s go.”
The sun blazed overhead as they exited the castle. The season hovered at autumn, a combination of summer and winter. Sly found this fascinating and made a note to mention crop manipulation to Liam and Calvin. Right now, he was eager to leave Seelie.
The portal wasn’t far from the castle, but in a wilderness area where not many ventured. Cinnabar led him and Calvin along a narrow path, sometimes turning sideways to squeeze between piles of rocks and scrubby pink trees.
“It’s here,” Cinnabar said. “Right by the tree with the purple leaves.”
Sly frowned. He’d imagined a shimmering circle, not an impenetrable wall of trees.
“Ah, yes,” Calvin said. “I sense it. I wonder if it will open to me. Have you tried, Cinnabar?”
“I couldn’t open it from the other side. I had to wait for Princess Iseabal to let me into Seelie.”
Calvin stepped forward and held up his hand. For an instant, it appeared to Sly that he held his hand against nothing, then a golden glow appeared around his fingers, expanding until it grew outward into an oval.
Beaming with satisfaction, Calvin stepped back. “Behold, a portal.”
“Smart-arse,” Sly muttered.
“That’s King Smart-arse to you,” Calvin said in a regal tone, his horns glinting in the light.
Sly rolled his eyes, ignoring Cinnabar’s horrified gasp. “Someone needs to keep you and Liam humble. Can we go through?”
“Sure. Liam will find us.” Calvin opened the portal fully and stood back with a flourish of his hand. “After you.”
Sly indicated Cinnabar should precede him and stepped through after her.
He staggered suddenly, his entire body jolting. Pain struck his head, his chest, his limbs, and he cried out, falling to his knees since his legs refused to bear his weight.
Cinnabar screamed, scrambling to kneel beside him.
“Sly,” Calvin said urgently. “Take shallow breaths. Somehow, I believe Iseabal split your personality. I know you’ve worried about your feline side. My theory is that he remained trapped here, and the two parts of you are colliding. Breathe, man. It must hurt like hell.”
Sly closed his eyes and focused on filling his lungs, breathing through the crashing agony. After long moments, the discomfort eased to a low-level headache. His legs trembled like those of a newborn calf, and he pushed upright with Cinnabar’s aid.
He opened his eyes to meet Calvin’s concerned gaze.
“How do you feel?” Calvin asked.
“Like I’ve fallen off my cambeest and got stomped on.” Sly sucked in a breath, the rise and fall of his chest coming more naturally now. He focused carefully, groping for his feline, despite the hammers beating in his head.
Ah. There he was, snarling and testy and fighting for release.
With regret, Sly beat him back. Soon. Soon we’ll go for a run.
“Do you think Liam will be long? I—” He broke off to gawk at the portal and the curls of smoke creeping through. “What is that black smoke?”
As Calvin turned, the smoke poured through the portal and darted around him. It formed in a stack, growing taller and bigger.
Cinnabar whimpered and scuttled behind him. Sly blinked as the smoke shaped into a form.
“How the feck did she manage that?” Calvin murmured a quick spell, the foreign sounds meaning little to Sly.
Calvin cursed and a feminine laugh came from the midst of the smoky form. It took on more substance until even Sly recognized the threat.
“You didn’t think I’d let a little thing like a locked room stop me, did you?” Princess Iseabal stood before them, hands planted on her hips, a gloating expression displaying her ugliness. She chortled, the sound tinged with amusement, a touch of madness, as Calvin attempted another spell. Then, her attention shifted to Sly and Cinnabar. “Nothing like a little revenge for motivation.”
* * * * *
Middlemarch Resort
Joe blinked. Sly. He’d been there seconds before, lying on the bed. He’d spoken to him, told him about the seeds they’d brought from Earth and how some had failed but the ones that had germinated were doing better than he’d expected.
Sly had vanished.
Joe sprinted from the room and tore through the resort. He found Saber with Ma and Eva in the resort kitchen. He skidded to a halt. “Sly is gone.”
“Someone is playing a trick on you, son,” Ma said.
“Saber, I am not fucking around. Sly is gone. He was there. I was talking to him. I walked over to the window and when I turned around, he’d disappeared. I didn’t hear the door. Not a thing. He’s truly gone.”
“We’ll organize a search party,” Saber said. “Pass the word to the staff.”
Joe sprinted out and started a systematic search of Sly’s favorite spots.
“Any luck?” Leo appeared behind Joe as he scanned the beach.
“No. I’ve searched everywhere I can think of.” Joe saw Saber striding toward him. “Have you found him?”
“No,” Saber said, and this time worry lines bracketed his mouth. “We’ll have a meeting and widen the search.”
Joe nodded. “I’ll check the implement and storage sheds.”
“Right. I want to organize the rest of the searchers before I join you.”
“I’ll go with Joe,” Leo offered.
Saber waved them away and jogged toward the main meeting room. Joe and Leo strode through the resort to the private accommodations and followed the gravel path to Joe and Sly’s storage sheds and greenhouse.
Joe darted into the greenhouse while Leo checked the first of the storage sheds.
“Anything?” Joe asked when they met up again.
“Not a sign. Do you think he would’ve gone farther than this?”
Joe frowned at his older brother. “I don’t know anything anymore.”
“Let’s check in with Saber first,” Leo suggested.
Joe nodded, uneasiness leaving him faintly nauseous. His feline stretched beneath his skin and yowled a protest. Joe wanted to howl along with him. “Okay. I might check on the grapevines—just in case.”
“Sly hasn’t eaten. He’ll be weak and his legs wouldn’t take him that far.” Leo squeezed Joe’s shoulder.
The silent commiseration made Joe want to cry. Instead, he let his brother lead him back to the resort.
At the last second, he halted. “You go on. I can’t explain it, but something is telling me to go to the vineyard.”
“Let’s go then.”
“You don’t have to come with me.”
“I’m your brother. I’m going with you.”
Joe swallowed. Hell, his thoughts darted around like a swarm of hyperactive bees. Where the devil was Sly? Where had he gone? Why had he left? Questions. All he had was questions.
They retraced their steps and entered the grass paddocks he and Sly had developed after hacking down trees and ploughing the land until it was suitable to plant their precious grapevines.
They scanned the land and walked up the hill, following the line of the vines. When they reached the brow of the hill, they paused to scan the landscape.
“There’s someone down there,” Leo said.
“Where did they come from?” Joe tried to make out faces, but they were too far away.