by Bec McMaster
“If there is one thing I have learned over the years, it is this: the Zilittu give nothing away freely. With the key, we can close the portal for good. And I prefer to think of it in terms of borrowing it.”
“You’re talking about war,” he pointed out.
“If it comes to it, yes. But I would rather fight the Zilittu than an entire army of elves.”
Árdís paled. “You’re sending me and Ishtar to the Zilittu court to steal the key?”
The king smiled. “A formal diplomatic party that comprises of the two of you”—his eyes came to rest, unerringly, on Marduk— “and my beloved brother. We haven’t congratulated the new Zilittu king on his mating lines yet, either.”
“Are you out of your mind?” Marduk demanded. “The Zilittu can’t be trusted.”
“We’ve always known that,” Rurik replied. And then he smiled at Solveig. “Which is why you will be joining them. Your ties to your father shall be a statement that both clans are watching them. They won’t dare try anything underhanded.”
“Absolutely not,” Solveig replied calmly. “My part in this is done. I need to return to my father and rouse my warband. War is coming—”
“And the key to winning such a war is in Zilittu hands,” Rurik replied.
Marduk slung his arm over the back of his chair. Here came the fun part of the afternoon. Rock meet stone.
“You’re not my king, so the answer is no,” Solveig said. “And I’m no thief.”
She looked perfectly at ease, as if staring down dreki kings was something she did for sheer enjoyment.
“Even if I have something you want?” Rurik murmured.
“I’m not interested in gold or treasure or—”
“I must have something you want,” Rurik countered, his eyes flaring bright gold. “A… peaceful dissolution to a certain agreement between courts, perhaps?”
Solveig turned to stone.
But Marduk sat forward, sending a psychic link toward his brother. “I spent hours arguing for dissolution of our mating contract. You denied me every time.”
Rurik didn’t even look in his direction. “Such dissolution was not to the benefit of the court. Now, it is.”
“To end such an arrangement means the end of this alliance between our clans,” Rurik said out loud. “And with the threat of World’s End and this sudden incursion by the alfar, I think this is a time for the Sadu and Zini clans to hold strongly. But once the matter is dealt with—”
“I will not suffer this arrangement a second longer than I must,” Solveig growled.
“Nor would I insist this mating stand any longer than needs must. But an agreement must be reached. The alliance must stand until this elvish threat is handled.”
Solveig idly tapped her long nails on the table. “What do you suggest?”
“Marduk must make amends,” Rurik said, which made Marduk look at him sharply. “He will formally apologize to the Sadu on the agreement that you will not seek to cause him harm whilst you are under my aegis.”
Her eyes turned thoughtful.
“You will be part of the Zini clan’s embassy to Zilittu lands, in order to represent our alliance with the Sadu. Their king must think the Sadu-Zini alliance is without fault. Travel to their court with my embassy and help retrieve the key, and I will end your mating contract.”
There was not a hint of trickery on the king’s face, but Marduk had spent the past three months playing cards with him. This was not the whole of the story—nor the whole of the plan.
“Just what are you up to?” he asked, because he’d spent the past three months getting absolutely destroyed at cards—and he was very good at cheating.
His brother always played several moves ahead. It was a rare hand that beat him.
“Making peace, brother.”
“Peace? We’ll kill each other before we even arrive at the Zilittu court.”
Rurik cut the connection.
You son of a wyrm. Marduk fought the instinct to say it out loud.
Because he wasn’t the one his brother was maneuvering right now.
“Upon the retrieval of the key, the Sadu clan’s obligations to the Zini will be met, and our alliance considered to be cemented. I will gladly allow you to sever ties with my brother at the end of this quest,” Rurik continued.
Solveig finally looked pleased. “I accept.”
The king exhaled loudly as his inner court left his chambers, and slowly slipped his crown from his head. Its weight grew heavier each day.
His wife, Freyja, circled behind his chair, one hand resting on his shoulder. “Just what are you playing at?”
He slid his hand over his mate’s. Sometimes, it seemed as though his life would be far simpler were he to return to his days as the fierce dreki who slumbered in the volcano at Krafla.
But then he’d never have met her. Never have had a chance to love her. Never seen her grow to become a mortal queen of a dreki court.
And he’d not have been able to hold his brother and sisters in his arms and see this court free of the corruption his mother had wielded.
A small price to pay to lead it.
“I hardly think the alliance with Harald will crumble should they end their mating,” Freyja muttered, “considering the letter that arrived from him ten days ago.”
Rurik leaned back and she cradled his head against her midriff. “True. Perhaps you can consider us two crafty old dreki who seek to meddle in the lives of our reckless brethren.”
Freyja tilted his chin back so their eyes met.
“You’re matchmaking?” she asked incredulously. “You think there’s even a chance that Marduk and Solveig could possibly surmount the gulf between them?”
He drew her into his lap. “You have to understand my brother, my love. Marduk has always been aloof and prone to look to the horizon. He chafed within this court and longed to ride free on the wind. And for the last ten years, he has flitted from one country to another, from one bed to another. I have never once seen him look at something and wish to linger. Not the way his gaze does when he looks at Solveig.”
“I think she’s going to kill him.”
“Mmm. Not according to Harald.”
“You thought she was going to kill him,” she pointed out. “You were almost rude to her to begin with.”
Rurik unleashed a smile. “I thought about it all day, and Marduk was right. If she’d wanted him dead, then he would be dead. Did you notice how protective he became when I confronted her?”
“You were playing them then. What precisely did that letter say?”
“That it will take a charming prince to tame his daughter’s fierce spirit. Solveig has spent her entire life fighting to prove herself. Male dreki wince when she glares at them and flee when she crooks her finger. Her pride knows no bounds, and the walls she guards her heart with are solid steel.” He nipped at her finger. “But the only time he has ever seen his daughter falter is when Marduk first appeared in his court ten years ago.”
“What happened ten years ago?”
“I don’t know.” It was the one flaw to his plan. “I was in exile, and Árdís only knows that Marduk was sent to make a formal alliance with the Sadu, except he fled and was never seen again. And there was something about a song that spoke of a heartless princess, and for no dreki male to seek to surmount such a… wench for fear he’d lose those parts most precious to him.”
Freyja’s eyes narrowed. “I think I want to punch him in the nose.”
“Mmm.” His hand slid down to the curve of her hip. “My brother is many things, but loose with his tongue? I think not. Marduk could charm the birds from the sky if he wished it. But instead he mocked one of the princesses he was meant to choose as a mate. That is not my brother, my little mouse. Something riled him—something with wickedly dark eyes and an unsmiling mouth, if I have any sense to my name.”
“They look like two cats locked in a barn together.”
He laughed. “I love your farmyard analogies.”
He lifted his face until their lips were almost touching. “Would you care to bet on that?”
She breathed him in, tilting her face so he could nip at her chin. “Not when you’re playing games. But do remember, my love…, you’re playing with your brother’s fate. He may not be grateful to you for it.”
A shadow fell over his heart. “Is he ever grateful for any of it?”
Freyja paused. And then she kissed his lips. “Patience. Your mother’s ghost haunts you all in different ways. And Marduk spent many years thinking you responsible for the death of your father. He was there when it happened, Rurik. And though you’ve forgiven Sirius for his role in the king’s death, I don’t think Marduk has. Not entirely. He still sees your father’s body. As do many others of the court. You knew when you pardoned Sirius, it was never going to be easy.”
He sighed. “Healing what my mother has done to this court never is. I’m just lucky I’ve got you by my side.”
“Barn analogies and all?” she teased.
This time, his smile was genuine. “Barn analogies and all. What would I do without you?”
5
Ten years ago
“One would think you were avoiding me,” called a voice.
Solveig stilled, then continued running her finger along the edge of her rapier. Though many dreki males preferred a long sword, or a heavier broadsword, she liked cold Flemish steel.
With it, she was lightning and murder.
Turning around, she tried to ignore the flutter of wings within her chest as Prince Marduk strolled onto the tower courtyard. Her dreki hissed at the intruder, but she forced herself to be polite. Or as polite as she could possibly be. “One would think you were wise.”
Marduk laughed. “Ah, something I’ve never been accused of.”
“I don’t doubt it.”
But she said it with a smile, and there was a moment where he stared at her as if trying to work his way through the comment and her sincerity. It was the sweetest insult she’d ever delivered, and even she might have been distracted by her dulcet tones.
Excellent. He was a fool. A blond, ridiculously handsome fool.
“Let me guess?” she mused. “You’ve walked the gardens with Aslaug. Dined with Siv. And now you’re here to flatter me. I can save you the breath. We can both pretend you’ve done your duty and batted those pretty eyelashes at me. And then we can go about our day peacefully.”
“Pretty eyelashes?”
Had he not heard what she’d said? “I’m not interested in being courted. Go bother someone else. Is that too difficult to understand?”
Silence.
Marduk slowly cocked his head on an angle. “Perhaps I’m merely curious as to what I’ve done that you find so offensive.”
“I find this entire affair offensive,” she said.
“Ah, so it’s not merely me? It’s the situation.”
“Shall we say both and call it a day?”
She moved to push past him, but he was suddenly right in front of her. An obvious sidestep she saw coming, but she simply hadn’t expected him to actually stand in her way.
Males generally didn’t.
They collided, and Solveig barely avoided running him through with the rapier. Hard hands captured her forearms, but it was the strength of his body that caught her by surprise. Every inch of him was firm and molded with muscle. He had an inch on her in her heels. But it felt like more, and for one unconscionable moment she wanted to lean into that strength, to yield. To have his hands on her appealed in some way she’d never, ever known before.
She paused.
She damned well paused.
And he knew it.
And worse, her dreki was suddenly clawing at her from the inside, screaming that she needed to get away from him.
“Why don’t you like me?” It was the voice of a prince who was used to getting his way—a golden prince who’d spent years twitching his finger only to have every maid in the vicinity wilt at his feet.
Instead, he ran into the stone wall of her will and he didn’t understand it.
Patience. Think of the treaty. This is important for the clan. It gives us our best chance against withstanding the encroaching Zilittu. Instead, she opened her mouth, and words fell out of it. “Did you imagine everyone found your presence charming? Is it so impossible to comprehend that one would prefer to linger with a sweaty sock rather than endure another moment of your presence?”
Lightning flashed through his eyes. “Maybe I’m developing quite an enjoyment of punishment?”
“If you find my company punishment, then leave.”
“I would,” he replied, “but your father pointed me in this direction, and now I’m forced to endure your withering stares. I wouldn’t want to disappoint him. You could smile once or twice a day, you know?”
Solveig leaned close enough for her to feel the delicious heat smoldering within him. “I only smile when I’m imagining disemboweling an enemy.”
The bastard actually laughed as she shoved away from him. “At least you’re honest. Do you know what I think?”
“You think?”
“On very rare occasions,” he replied, as if her insult simply bounced off him. “I think we’re both forced into a situation neither of us particularly cares for, and only one of us is handling it gracefully.”
Gracefully? She turned on him, and for the first time, his gaze slid to the rapier as if he’d finally realized she had a dangerous weapon in her hand and the inclination to use it.
“If you kill me, it might complicate matters,” he pointed out.
“But it would be so enjoyable. The question is: Would that single moment of utter bliss be worth it?”
Marduk actually laughed as he began to roll up his sleeves. “Oh, this is better. Now you’re no longer pretending to be polite. I think I prefer this.” Heat seared his amber eyes, as if he’d found his equilibrium again and swiftly changed suit to confront her. “No, it wouldn’t be worth it. A quick death would be too kind, and I haven’t even begun to irritate you yet.”
“Go. Away,” she told him. “We’ll both tell Father you gave it your best attempt. Your smile almost charmed me, but apparently, we wouldn’t suit.”
“Is that what you think I want? To charm you?”
Solveig paused.
“We’ve both figured out that the other wouldn’t suit us. And neither of us is interested in courting the other, so why not dispense with the games? We have to spend a certain amount of time together in order to retain appearances. So why don’t we do something we both enjoy?” Marduk leaned closer, his smile holding dangerous edges. “I want to fight. And you appear to be halfway decent with a sword, according to all sources.”
He truly was an idiot.
But the thought appealed a little.
There was nothing half as enjoyable as absolutely skewering male dreki pride.
Fighting him was reckless. Males, in her experience, didn’t like to lose. “If I set you on your ass, your entire court will be baying for my blood.”
“If you can manage to set me on my ass, what makes you think I’m going to tell anyone? I’m not the sort to tuck tail and run bleating to my mother.” A darkness edged his fading smile. “And she’s not the sort of mother to respect a son who would do such a thing.”
“Wise woman.”
Something about his expression made her think something was amiss. “Mmm, not the word I would generally use to describe her. Now, are you going to fight with me, or would you rather we skip straight to kissing?”
Kissing? Was he serious? “I thought you had no intentions of courting me?”
“What do kissing and courting have to do with each other? Because you might hate me, but there’s
a part of me that wonders if all this arguing is merely foreplay.”
Her jaw dropped open.
What?
Marduk rolled his eyes. “Oh, please. Surely you know angry sex is the best kind of sex there is. And your gaze lingers on my backside often enough that I’m not unaware you find me physically pleasing.”
Despite the fact he’d guessed correctly—or truly had been doing his research—she was flabbergasted.
Angry sex.
Him.
Her.
Teeth and nails and hard fucking up against a wall.
The breath slammed out of her even as wetness slicked between her thighs.
“If you bring those lips anywhere near me,” she growled, “I will kick you off the top of this tower.”
“Still won’t kill me, sweetheart.” Marduk spun around, heading for the rapier rack. He hauled his silk coat off his shoulders, tossing it aside carelessly as he reached for a blade. “Are you going to fight me? Or are you too afraid you’ll ruffle my pretty blond hair?”
Solveig was still struggling to recollect herself in the wake of not murdering him over the “foreplay” comment, and that “sweetheart” almost slipped right past her. The sight of his white shirt caressing the broad planes of his chest was enough to steal what was left of her wits.
He was gorgeous. All golden hair, leonine grace, and power bunched into a spectacular set of muscles.
She hated it.
She hated everything about him, from the flashing white smile to the dimple on the right side of his mouth. The stupid, careless way he didn’t give a damn about her insults. She’d been frightening males away for years with the merest snarl, and it was incredibly frustrating to come across one who simply plowed through her warnings without a care in the world.
But most of all, she hated the way her body flared with interest the second he threw the concept of hate sex into the air between them.
Running his fingers along the rapier, he gave her another look. “Well?” he demanded with a wicked little smile. “Are we dueling?”
“Oh, we’re dueling.” Her entire body practically vibrated with tension. “No mercy, Marduk. I’m going to beat you so badly you go flying back to your mother with your tail tucked between your legs. I’m going to make you cry tears of pure fire.”