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Davido, had been right. From the first, damn if Aralynn hadn’t matched Stone in power as well as in her love for doing battle. More than once, she said she was glad to be ‘doing’ after all this time. When he’d asked her what she meant, she’d talked about not liking her previous job as a castle guard very much. She preferred to be active and the Ferrenden Peace castle staff just didn’t have a lot to do.
He’d never known someone who’d lived in Ferrenden Peace most of her life, so he’d learned a lot about the place that Queen Rosamunde had kept secret from the Nine Realms for the past thousand years. Everyone had thought the place a myth until Mastyr Quinlan and his woman, Batya, had somehow found their way to her kingdom.
Surprise. Queen Rosamunde was real.
He’d paid her a state visit, of course, as all the mastyrs had. But he didn’t like her very much. She’d kept her secret by sustaining a veil of mist around Ferrenden Peace, a veil that Aralynn insisted had but one purpose: To keep Margetta, the Ancient Fae, away from Rosamunde’s kingdom. Apparently, if Margetta ever found her way inside, she’d gain some kind of additional power that would make it possible for her to take over the Nine Realms.
He thought it sounded like a lot of plain-old horseshit. From his perspective, he considered Rosamunde a coward, pure and simple. She’d lived an indolent, secluded life, safe in her stone castle, claiming that her protective mist had somehow served to keep the Nine Realms safe.
Hogwash.
But Aralynn was cut from a different cloth. She had a warrior’s heart, one more reason he kept thinking about putting his lips on her mouth and all other kinds of places.
Sweet Goddess, Aralynn. She was tall, which he loved because he topped out at six-seven these days, having added another half-inch during the past few months. She was also pretty, with soulful brown eyes, full lips, pronounced cheekbones and an unusual perfume, like an herb found deep in the woods that worked him up. When he was around her, he had a hard time keeping his cock in a respectful position.
Delia was right, though. He’d been thinking about kissing her. A lot. And like the hot-blooded vampire he was, he’d almost taken her in his arms only last night when they’d been on patrol. It had been just before dawn and as usual, they’d battled at least a half dozen wraith-pairs and saved a whole lot of realm-folk.
By the time dawn had started sending warning signals down his spine, he’d returned Arralyn to the gates of Ferrenden Peace. He’d leaned in to kiss her, but she’d pulled back, then vanished before he could get his arms around her. The woman had power.
He was taking it slow because he could sense her resistance like a steel rod running through her. Maybe she’d been badly hurt in the past, he didn’t know. Yet he didn’t know her well enough to ask.
He knew she wanted him, though. Her woodsy, herbal scent was laced with so many come-and-get-me pheromones, he’d almost jumped her then and there.
The trouble was, the woman could teleport so he’d have about as much chance of holding onto her as flying to the moon.
The last thing he wanted to do, however, was to share any of this with Delia.
He changed the subject. “How’s that husband of yours?”
“Mm. As stubborn as ever—”
Something in the tone of her voice caused Stone to glance at her once more. He watched her shake her head, her three forehead ridges compressed together, her lips forming a tight line. The words were right, but they didn’t match the concern he saw. He knew something was wrong.
He leaned in her direction. His Communication Center had doubled the staff from a year ago and there were so many ears listening to anything either of them said that he switched to telepathy. What gives and you’d better tell me now.
In all the decades she’d been with him, he’d never seen Delia shed a tear, not even when her favorite dog got slain by a wraith-pair. But she had tears in her eyes now. Elias is missing, Mastyr.
How long has he been gone?
I shouldn’t be bothering you with this.
He reached over and took her arm gently in hand and repeated the question. How long? Please, tell me. And don’t think I’ll let this go. You’re important to me.
Delia’s lips turned down, but she squared her shoulders. Two days and a night.
That length of time during the war against the Invictus wraith-pairs might as well have been a week.
Any word from him during that time? A text? Anything?
No.
Sweet Goddess, why didn’t you tell me sooner?
At that, she turned to glare at him then swept her hand from one side of the room to the other, encompassing the battery of images that each monitor displayed constantly. Forty realm-folk, half of them Guardsmen, manned the various stations. You have something far more important on your mind than whatever might have happened to my husband. Maybe the Invictus got him, hauled him off to force him into a wraith-pair bond or maybe they slaughtered him. That makes me one of how many tens of thousands this has happened to? So why should I get any special treatment?
Stone knew she was right. She shouldn’t get special treatment. But she’d been the best assistant he’d ever had, she never let him get away with his usual bullshit, and dammit, she was family.
He looked around and seeing that one of his lieutenants had just come in, he called to him. “Harris, I need you on this.”
