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“I thought you were dead.”
“Why would I be dead?” Inga struggled to sit upright, gripping her massive trident in one hand while she used the other one to scrub through her red hair. When she was done, the thick tufts stuck straight out, giving her a crimson halo. “Wait. Where am I?”
“In the minotaur labyrinth,” Levet explained.
Inga swung her head around to stare at him in disbelief. “Are you serious?”
“Why would I jest?”
“The labyrinth.” She shook her head, genuinely baffled. “How did I get here?”
“What do you last recall?” Levet demanded.
She took a minute to search through her memories. “I was at the castle. I’d been sitting in the throne room waiting for you to contact me.”
Levet sucked in a shocked breath at her low words. “But I did contact you—or at least I tried to. Over and over.” He pressed his hands against his stomach, which clenched with anxiety. “I thought you were ignoringmoi.”
She blinked, blatantly confused by his words. “Why would I ignore you?”
“I feared you had grown tired of waiting for me to return.”
“I will always wait for you.”
Levet’s breath released on a shaky sigh at her soft words. He’d been worried. Desperately worried that Inga had decided he was too much trouble. It happened with females more often than he cared to admit. But until that moment he’d hadn’t understood the sheer depth of his terror.
If she’d truly decided to be done with him, Levet wasn’t entirely certain he would have the desire to go on.
“I sensed your annoyance when I revealed I was leaving with Troy to search for the missing vampire,” he reminded her. “And then I was sucked into the netherworld with no way to contact you. It would be understandable if you were tired of waiting.”
“It wasn’t annoyance,” she corrected him. “It was fear. I’m always concerned you will be hurt, but I also know that it’s your destiny to rush into danger.” She heaved a resigned sigh. “It’s who you are. Just like I will always be awkward and clumsy and—”
“Beautiful,” Levet interrupted.
Inga snorted. “Never that.”
“Hush,” Levet said in stern tones. This female would never comprehend just how wondrous she was. Even though she’d gone from a slave to the Queen of the Merfolk. Of course, her humble nature was part of her charm. “You are beautiful and loyal and terrifyingly powerful,” he informed her. “Absolute perfection.”
She blushed so hot her skin turned as red as her hair. Levet doubted there would ever come a day when she could accept compliments with grace. And that was just fine with him.
“I still don’t understand what I’m doing here.” Inga hurriedly changed the conversation.
“You were recalling your last memories, were you not?”
“Oh. Right.” She pursed her lips, returning to her recollections. “I was in the throne room, and I heard screaming in the hallway. I went out to see what happened.”
“You should have stayed in the throne room.”
Inga made a sound of disgust. “As if you would have.”
“You are a queen.” With a sigh, Levet moved to grab the dented crown off the ground. He doubted Inga would realize that she’d lost it. Or care. She’d never wanted the duties that came with being royalty. Unfortunately for her, the Tryshu that she was holding in her hand decided who was going to sit on the throne. And the powerful weapon had chosen Inga. “I, on the other hand, am not important.”
“You’re important to me,” she retorted without hesitation. Levet blinked, for once in his very long life completely speechless. “Anyway,” Inga hurriedly continued, her blush still staining her cheeks. “I went out and discovered a black hole had formed in the wall.”
Levet shook his head, his pleasure at her words forgotten as a stab of frustration pierced his heart.
“Where were the guards?”
“Rimm arrived at the same time I did,” she said, referring to the captain of her guards. A merman who’d done everything in his power to convince Inga to allow him to deal with security in the castle. “He was organizing the guards when I decided I should be the one to check it out.”
