Untamed, page 23
Trey’s eye widened despite himself. He thought Lesta was just trying to free him to help Vera, he didn’t realize he was trying to completely change who retained power on Aleron. There had never not been a Matheris on the throne.
Coleman glared up at him. “What would you have me do? Kill my own Prince in the hopes that someone nicer comes along to take his place?”
Jensen stepped even closer until they were chest to chest. “You know what.”
The look Coleman sent him would’ve had a lesser man fearing for his life. He looked seconds from pulling his blade out right then and there and stabbing Jensen through. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.”
“Don’t I? Lesta seemed pretty gods damn sure,” Jensen threw back, before glancing back down the hall again, like he was expecting someone to come walking by at any moment. “We’re running out of time.”
Stomping across the room, he grabbed Trey’s hand, removing a small dagger from his belt and smacking the handle in his open palm.
“If you want to die, it’s your call. I’ll leave this damn dagger. But if not, you’ll have one chance to get out of here. One, Gibson. So, you better fucking figure it out soon.”
He straightened back up, pulling his hand away like he already knew what answer Trey would give. And for a moment, he considered it. It could all be over right now. The pain, the unknowns, the nightmares. He could be at peace.
But there was another part of him, a darker part that was growing larger by the day, that didn’t want peace. That wouldn’t have it until that bastard was bleeding on the floor, begging for his own life.
So instead of tucking the blade away and listening to the quiet voice that wanted to roll over, he opted to listen to the angry one. The one that snatched Jensen’s hand back and slapped the dagger back into it.
His friend’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly as they met his, and he knew there was no sign of the man he’d once been in his face as he spoke. “I want in. Whatever political game you’re playing, I want in. And if we succeed, if we survive all of this, Eithan Matheris is mine.”
Relief filled Jensen’s eyes, there and gone in a blink, and then he gave a stiff nod, clearing his throat. “Stay strong, then. Eat your veggies and shit until I come back.”
He didn’t give Trey time to give him another vulgar gesture before he was grabbing Coleman’s arm and whispering furiously into his ear before dragging him toward the door.
Coleman darted one last glance at him, his face paling at whatever Jensen said, before they both disappeared, the door shutting behind them.
And then he was alone again. And with the silence came the doubt, then the panic, then the anger.
He flopped back down to the cot. What the absolute fuck was all that? And what had Jensen been talking about when he said Coleman could do something? What was he whispering to him to make him pale like that?
The entire thing pissed him off, even more so because it pissed him off.
He shouldn’t care. He shouldn’t care whether or not Coleman was going to rat Jensen out. He shouldn’t care where they were going now or wish he could go too. He shouldn’t hate that he gave the dagger back in the spur of the moment, shouldn’t want to open his eye anymore.
But gods damn him, he fucking did. And part of him hated Jensen for it.
Lost in his thoughts, it took him a minute to realize he could hear the sound of boots clipping down the hall. He shoved up to an elbow, brow raised, wondering what else his suddenly talkative-as-fuck friend needed to say.
But when the door swung open again, it wasn’t Jensen or Coleman who stood at the entrance.
Although the multicolored bruises had faded from his face, the man who stood before him looked more disheveled than Trey had ever seen him. His blond hair hung in greasy strings around his face rather than tied neatly at his nape, and he had dark circles under his eyes, like he hadn’t slept in days.
His expression was haggard, his lips pressed thin, and his tunic was half untucked, like he’d yanked it out on his way there. But it was Eithan’s eyes that had ice engulfing Trey’s spine. His eyes were the same dead, emotionless blue they’d been in the dungeon. When he’d said little but done so much.
“What has you looking so perky and awake, Gibson? You pleased to see me?” he asked, voice eerily flat.
Trey swallowed, mentally urging himself not to shake or stammer a single syllable. Nothing that would give away what had just transpired. Because if they were lucky enough that Eithan hadn’t passed them in the hall, Trey sure as shit didn’t want to be the weak link that signed their death warrants. Not even Coleman’s.
“It does tend to get quite lonely in here. The walls aren’t the best at playing cards,” he pushed out, lowering back down.
Eithan chuckled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Walking silently across the room, he stopped at one of the tables against the wall, running his fingers along the edge as he admired Healer Perry’s tools and supplies.
Picking up a scalpel, he turned and rested his hip against the table, looking over to Trey as he spun it in his fingers. “I just had dinner with my father.”
Trey’s heart felt like solid iron in his chest. Eithan never referred to Sulian as his father, not so casually, and definitely not without a sneer or sarcastic raise of his brow.
He watched the sharp blade as it continued to spin in the bastard’s hand. “By your tone, I’m guessing he overcooked the pheasant.”
Eithan’s fingers froze, his eyes narrowing as he pushed off the table and ambled closer. “Since when did you start joking with me again, dear Gibson?”
Fuck. This is why Jensen needed to stay the fuck away from him. He’d shook him up, confusing him, and it’d only end horribly for them both.
“I told you,” he said, pushing all of his misery into his words, “it gets lonely down here. Even Healer Perry has stopped coming by as often.”
“Yes, I informed him his services weren’t needed anymore.”
A tingling filled his body, warning bells going off in every direction. “So, am I being moved to the guest suite now?”
“You could call it that. It’s certainly perfect accommodations for temporary guests, and much more entertaining since you’re so bored here. Lots to listen to there, at least.”
Trey’s eye widened. He couldn’t have blinked if he tried. His tongue felt three times its size as he got out, “And where is that?”
Eithan didn’t answer right away, looking again at the scalpel in his hand and edging closer until he stood only a foot away, the sharp blade uncomfortably close to Trey’s arm.
He could still feel the phantom pain of the last one Eithan had used on him, and nausea climbed up his throat as he subconsciously shifted toward the far side of the cot.
“Sulian informed me over our lovely meal that he’s made the decision to send me to Midpath. Spewing some ill-conceived lie about me overseeing the guard in place of Lesta, of all things.”
He huffed a laugh, hatred coating the sound, the first emotion he’d given since entering the room.
“But the truth is, Sulian believes, just as I do, that Vera will return. And he wants to sink his claws into her, himself,” he growled, squeezing the tip of the tool until blood bloomed beneath it.
Vomit filled Trey’s mouth, and he swallowed it back down, desperately trying not to show how completely unnerved he was by Eithan’s unpolished demeanor.
“He’s not planning on her marrying you?” he dared to ask, praying that he was right. Maybe Emperor Sulian had realized how fucking stupid it was to risk a fight with an island of gods damn Magyki all for the hope they’d give him whatever it was he wanted.
Eithan spit. “I wouldn’t be surprised if he locked her away and stuck a child in her himself, just to remove me from next-in-line.”
Trey blanched, his nose wrinkling at even the thought. “Your father may have political power, but even he cannot physically force Vera to do that.”
Eithan nodded, rubbing the blond scruff along his jaw with his non-bloodied hand. Then he cracked his neck and sighed, leaning down closer to Trey’s face.
“Anyway, I don’t know when I’ll be back, and I certainly can’t leave you here to cause trouble, so I’m afraid it’s back home for you.”
Trey’s two-story, childhood house in Southterres immediately came to mind. The blue paint, his mother’s beautiful garden out front, the fence’s gate that creaked no matter how many times he’d worked on it. But he shoved the images out, tucking them away. That wasn’t the home Eithan was referring to, and they both knew it.
“When?” he croaked.
“Soon.” He squatted down, grabbing the longer straps that had hung loose for days, and began securing them back over his body, tightening them until it felt like they were cutting into his blood flow. Then he removed a white cloth and wadded it, holding it up to Trey’s mouth. “Open up.”
He shook his head, lips pressed together, thrashing against the restraints. He took it all back, every word he’d said to Jensen. He’d do anything to have that dagger in his hand again. Anything.
Anything. Anything. Anything. Anything.
“I suggest you listen and open up,” Eithan warned, pressing the cloth against his closed lips, “because I’m really fucking angry.”
And it was those words that had his mind finally snapping, his fear dissipating on the wind as a soul-crushing fury overwhelmed him. He was angry? That spoiled-ass bastard didn’t know what fucking angry was.
Twisting toward him, Trey lurched up as far as he could and slammed his head directly into his nose, reveling in the sound of Eithan’s surprised yell and the tool clattering to the floor.
Eithan’s head whipped back, and his hand flew to his face to hover over his gushing nose. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear the spots Trey was sure were swimming in his vision, but he didn’t move closer.
Unease flashed across his watering eyes. “You broke my nose.”
“Yes,” Trey spat. “And if you touch me again, I swear to the gods, I’ll fucking kill you.”
Chapter 24
VERA
She stared at her reflection in the mirror, her eyes wide as they lowered down her form, taking in the steel gray dress Reniya had helped her into.
“Don’t you think this shows a little more cleavage than necessary?” She scowled, placing her fingers over the deep plunge of the gown, ending just a few inches above her navel.
Reniya’s face peeked out over her shoulder from where she was currently pinning Vera’s plait around her head like a makeshift crown. “You can never show too much cleavage. Now, be still,” she said, disappearing behind her head again and yanking sharply on her hair.
Remembering the way Reniya had scared the shit out of her, sprawled out in a chair in front of her hearth, spinning her dagger as she and Jaren walked in, Vera opted not to make a comment.
Reniya hadn’t even let her remove her boots before she’d lit into her, reminding her so much of Elric as she reprimanded her for wasting their limited training hours.
“You want to hump Barilias all night, be my guest, but don’t you dare blow me off for it again.”
Vera’s face had heated, painfully aware that Reniya could smell the release still plastered to the inside of her thighs. “I was reading up on our history.”
Her guardian’s eyes had immediately narrowed, and she flared her nostrils, overexaggerating her deep inhale. “I certainly hope your reading included the proper use of truik elixir.”
Vera fidgeted before the mirror, her ears warming all over again just thinking about the grin Jaren had shot Reniya in answer.
She cleared her throat, wiping the memory from her mind, and focused back on the reflected version of her staring back. If she was honest, besides the amount of cleavage it showed, the gown was absolutely stunning.
It fit her like a glove, showcasing what curves she had while also not suffocating her like the gown on Aleron had. The corsets here were much different, more for pushing up her breasts and accentuating her natural shape than making her appear as thin as possible.
She’d been baffled when she’d discovered this particular dress even had one built into it.
The bodice had intricate detailing and beads sewn throughout, making it appear like an array of stars, while the skirt was made of a soft velvety texture, swaying as she moved.
A sheer cape flowed from the straps over her shoulders, making her collar and neck stand out and doing absolutely nothing to hide her multitude of marks. Including the scar on her throat.
Whether her guardian had intentionally done it or not, she’d made her look like a fucking queen.
“Reniya?”
“Hm?” She grunted, pressing her chest into Vera’s back as she lowered her arms over her head, securing a glittering, silver necklace around her neck. It had a single, thin chain that dropped between her breasts and down the front of her dress.
Vera wasn’t sure when she’d come to enjoy the gruff, female’s presence—she still kind of terrified her—but she found herself hoping she’d say yes to what she was about to ask.
Reniya was feisty and blunt as shit, but she was also funny and loyal. She didn’t owe Vera a single thing, yet she’d shown up every morning to help her even when it wasn’t part of her duties as her guardian.
And she was still willing to do so even after Vera had selfishly blown her off that morning.
Their training sessions certainly weren’t enjoyable, leaving her with more bruises and winces than she’d had in all her twenty years combined, but she enjoyed Reniya’s company and considered her a friend. Her first one since Trey.
The thought circled around her heart and squeezed.
“Will you be attending the dinner with us?”
Reniya’s hands froze in her hair, and she angled her head to meet Vera’s eyes through the mirror. “Do you want me to?”
She shrugged, trying to brush off her nerves. Jaren would be with her, so it wasn’t like she technically needed a second guard just to attend dinner. “I was just wondering.”
“That’s not what I asked, Your Highness. I asked if you want me there.”
A muffled bang sounded from the other room, interrupting her reply, and she frowned, glancing at the door. Jaren had already washed up and shaved while she’d been picking out her dress with Reniya. What on Aleron could he possibly be doing?
Low murmured voices hit her ears before she realized it’d been a knock she heard, not Jaren banging around.
Finished anyway, she twisted toward the door, trying not to trip over the tall, spiked shoes Reniya had crammed onto her feet. But Reniya darted in front of her, exiting first.
Gods, maybe she didn’t want her going after all. Between her and Jaren, there was a good chance they’d cause her to lose her mind by the end of the night.
Entering the main room to see who had come by, she made toward the door only to stop in her tracks when her gaze landed on Jaren. His back was to her, his fitted, black tunic showing off his broad shoulders and trim waist.
She let her eyes consume the sight, lingering on the way his dark trousers pulled at his ass before disappearing into his boots.
She wasn’t sure where, or when, he’d purchased the clothing, but it was the cleanest she’d ever seen him. And if it wasn’t for the second male standing in front of him, she might’ve kicked Reniya out just to rip the clothes right back off him. She sighed, tucking the idea away for later.
Dedryn stood just inside their room, dressed in a sleeveless, maroon tunic with gold trim and tan trousers tucked into sleek, black boots. His face was clean-shaven and sharp, his golden eyes hard as they moved from his son to focus on her.
Noticing his change in attention, Jaren whipped around, his eyes flaring and his mouth falling open as pure, unfiltered adoration filled her chest. And before she could even process the heightened emotion he was pumping into her, he closed the space between them, his hands tenderly grasping her face.
His eyes were bright and glassy as he tipped her head back and whispered, “You are mine.”
The words weren’t a claiming or a demand like every other time he’d said them, but a breath over her lips, like they’d been pulled straight from his heart, and he didn’t quite believe them.
Heat filled her cheeks under his penetrating stare, and she fidgeted, aware of their audience. “I didn’t realize you cleaned up so nice, green eyes.”
He blinked rapidly, almost like he was coming out of a trance, and then a slow, sinful smile spread across his face.
Dropping his mouth just above her ear, he whispered, “You’re fucking ethereal, aitanta. A star incarnate. But I am going to have so much fun tearing this gown to shreds as I remove it from your body.”
“Don’t you dare,” she said, shoving him back. He chuckled, turning to stand beside her as she rolled her eyes and looked to Dedryn.
A muscle feathered in his jaw. “Are you quite done?”
Jaren’s arm pulled back only to smack her on the ass, pulling an embarrassing yelp from her throat. “Now, I am.”
Oh, my fucking gods.
She wasn’t sure, but she could’ve sworn Dedryn’s lips twitched as he shook his head and turned to Reniya. “King Vesstan has dismissed you for the night. Jaren and I will escort her back.”
Reniya nodded that she’d heard, but instead of bowing and taking her leave, she made direct eye contact with her, refusing to move. Vera frowned at first, until she realized Reniya was waiting for her to answer her question from the bathing room.
Eyes stinging, she smiled and nodded. “I’ll be all right. Go enjoy your evening, Reni.”
Her entire body went rigid at the nickname, and a comical look crossed her features before she shook it away, bowing quickly and marching out of the room.
The second she disappeared through the door, Jaren’s neutral expression dropped. “What are you doing here?”
