Page 183 of Spring Guardians & Songbirds

Ulv Islet—it had been him in his human form. Not Moregan. Not any other beast. Him.

He bowed his head to me. “Excuse us, Princess.”

“You’re excused. Demir.”

He halted and turned a little over his shoulder, those dull green eyes glistening a bit more vibrantly than usual.

Perhaps turning my back to him was not a smart idea, not when I’d just found out he was my father’s beast. But I was dizzy, so dizzy from knowledge of all sorts assaulting my thoughts from all sides.

I had to get out of here. If that thing had scented me…if Demir had scented me back in Hanai—

There was something wrong. That I knew from the moment of my return. Had he known all this time? Did my father know, too? The way he’d reacted to me, to my words and actions.

Father stood up from his dais, making his way down to me and I froze midway to him. He extended a hand to me. “Dance with your father?”

Four walls were caging me in, nearing and nearing. A game—I’d entered my father’s game when I returned. He’d played me all this time.

Before I could answer, a hand slid over the small of my back. A gasp trapped in my mouth at the possessive touch curling over my waist and the way his thumb circled over the fabric covering my skin. “Your Majesty,” the cold voice that had whispered sweet nothings and promises over my flesh not long ago greeted my father. “Could I steal this turn? I am afraid my party will soon retreat. I’d hate to miss this opportunity.”

My father seemed taken aback for a while before giving him a nod.

Sweat trickled down my temples and I couldn’t make my body move at the tension coursing me. What was this idiot doing here?

“Just a moment,” father called as we began retreating to the dance floor. My fists bunched half in anxiousness and half in anger at this foolish divulge that would risk all my work here in Isjord. Not when I was so close to cracking what my father was up to. “You’re the Comnhall emissary, aren’t you?”

Kilian turned round and gave him a nod. “Yes, our king sends his best regards.”

What emissary?

“Stay a while after,” father said, retreating. “I didn’t get to greet you when your side of the party arrived last night.”

“We were held up at sea, our ships only touched land this morning. I will see you afterward, Your Majesty,” he replied, politely. And it seemed good enough for my father because he sat back in his blood dais all too pleased.

Kilian’s hand remained on the small of my back while he stirred us to a corner with bodies pressed together swaying in a slow waltz. Six feet four clad in white and a silver barocco mask concealing his beautiful face, he stood out amongst the crowd like a sore thumb. Or perhaps he stood out to me.

A shiver permeated me when he pulled our bodies close, his palms resting gently on me. The memory of those hands on me was still all too fresh and my body reacted on command the more I thought about them.

“You idiot,” I hissed.

“Missed you, too, my dahaara. Smile pretty for me, your father is watching us.”

Curling my lips in the fake smile I’d mastered all these years, I looked up at him. Like an anchor at sea, my body had loosened from tension in his arms. “What are you doing here?”

“Taking you back.”

I let out a chuckle. This one was pretty real and angry. “No. And what did you do to the real emissary?”

“He is still sleeping on the ship. Nia made a blue argain mix to put him in a nice week long rest.”

“You idiot.”

“Already said that.”

“Go back.”

He leaned to whisper in my ear, “This is not how you greet your husband, missus.” The hand he rested on my back slid lower and lower till it grazed my hips. “Did you not miss me at all?”

“Would you prefer I keep our lie or tell you the truth?”