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Syphe and Bran bark twin laughs. “Yes.”
“Hey! I was not!”
Syphe chucks a roasted carrot at Undreth, and he dodges it while throwing his knife at her. I gasp, but she catches it by the hilt, spinning it in her hand before stabbing the large slab of meat on her plate. “Thanks.”
Everyone chuckles, and I find myself laughing along.
These people have easily welcomed me into their group … but as Kemremir’s Mate. A tiny kick of uncertainty sours my stomach. I am a leader among my people. The Mountain clan has always looked to me as my father’s successor. But here, I’m just … his.
The table quiets as everyone resumes their meals, and I push my food around my plate. Kem leans toward me, his heat brushing against my side. “What’s troubling you? Heilsi?”
Attention around the table shifts to me, and I fight to keep from squirming in my seat. I know I need to talk to him about this, but it doesn’t seem like the right place. Kem brushes my tangled hair over my shoulder. “For someone who just spent hours in the training room, you’re much too tense.”
Undreth spears a nearly raw piece of meat on his plate before shoving it in his mouth. “Hours?”
I shrug, but Kem sits back, draping his arm behind my chair. “You should have seen her. She took Arvun to the mat.”
Undreth stops chewing, and Syphe does a slow clap that reddens my cheeks. “Well done. I call next when you want to spar again.”
Undreth raises his fork. “Then the nickname makes sense, fierce one. Put me on your sparring dance card.”
Kem pats the back of my chair, the gentle vibration traveling down my spine before he turns back to his plate, and everyone tucks back into their dinners. I glance at my Mate from the corner of my eye. Did he suspect the reason behind my unease? Can he read me so easily already?
Light conversation drifts around the table, and Hiti, who has been mostly silent, raises her glass to me before turning back to her almost empty plate. Kem notices, shifting so his thigh brushes against mine. “They like you, Heilsi. Warriors recognizing kindred spirits.”
Just like that, the sour churning in my stomach eases. I’ve always been an overthinker; stuck in my spiraling thoughts. And that bad habit has kept me from seeing how genuine these people are treating me. Maybe I’m the only one who's putting me in the box of ‘only Kem’s Mate.’
Silently, I vow to do my best to view myself with truth, and not through my insecurities.
Grabbing my fork, I pick through the variety of meats, vegetables, and a lump of something gelatinous. Kem chuckles, low enough that I’m the only one who hears it as he leans back over. “Just try a little of everything. See what you like.”
His deep voice hints at a double meaning, and I press my thighs together. What I’d like is for him to take me back to his room and deliver on his earlier promise. His nostrils flare, and his chest rumbles with a little chuckle. “Eat first, Heilsi.”
I swallow, realizing he scented my arousal, and around the smell of meat and spice and oil, I catch his arousal as well.
I focus on my plate, trying a small piece of potato first, finding its texture pleasant, and the flavors of fat and salt quite delicious. After that first taste, I tuck into my meal, enjoying every bite.
Pushing my clean plate away, I sit back, drink in hand, content.
But my dinner sours in my stomach at Hiti’s quiet words from down the table. “We will have extra guards on your doors tonight, Kemremir. Just in case Inchel tries anything.”
Kem shakes his head, but Syphe chimes in. “The Challenge is tomorrow, and we’re not taking any chances.”
Tomorrow! No. I’m not ready.
But Kem smiles, finishing the last of his meal. “Fine. I’ll just be glad when all this is behind us.” His fork hits his plate with a quiet clink as he turns to face me. “I have other things I’d like to focus on.”
I have trouble getting my lungs to fill, but everyone at the table raises their glasses. “Here, here!”
I should be embarrassed, but all I feel is pride. These people love their King, and he loves them. My Mate is a good man, and I’m proud to be his.
There’s a loud scrape of wood against stone as Kem pushes back from the table, grabbing my hand, hauling me to my feet. “Speaking of which. Please excuse us.”
Bran and Syphe stand as well. “Us too.”
Undreth sighs, running his hand through his tawny hair. “Ah, to be Mated.”
Bran hugs Syphe to his side. “Don’t give up hope, my friend. Your Mate is out there.”
