Heck joined her and took a seat in the chair next to her, reaching out for her hand. “I want to keep a close eye on him,” he admitted. “That handsome bastard should watch what he’s doing, or he’ll get a taste of who he’s messing with.”
Maray checked with a glance to see if Heck was being serious and was surprised to find only a fraction of sarcasm on his features.
“What?” Heck closed his fingers around Maray’s hand. “I don’t like when someone is trying to mess with my Queen.”
“I’m not your Queen, Heck.” Maray gently pulled her hand out of his grasp, careful not to offend him.
“Not a crowned one,” Heck agreed, but in his stubborn, chocolate gaze, she could see the depths of the meaning of his words. He was taking his role seriously. Too seriously even.
“Heck…” Maray hesitated, unsure how to tell him what he already knew.
“Don’t worry.” Heck hid his eyes under a fringe of black lashes as he looked down. “I know, I am not your Jem, and this arrangement is in name only.”
The way he stated it made Maray feel heartless.
There was a moment of awkwardness. Neither Maray nor Heck had ever brought up the topic of the nature of their future union since the engagement. It was clear she didn’t have feelings for Heck that exceeded the realm of friendship, but could she live a lie apart from the one she was already living? Could she summon Jemin to court and be with him even when she would be married to Heck? Her heart screamed at the thought of Jemin, but her sense of self-preservation was stronger—for now. Being near him would probably make her forget all the promises she had made to her parents, to Heck, to Allinan. She couldn’t put everything at risk, especially not now that the future of Allinan was at stake.
“I’m sorry.”
Heck got to his feet. “No need to be sorry, Your Royal Highness.” He winked, but his eyes were clouded with a sudden pensiveness Maray wasn’t used to.
“I need to run some errands. I’ll be back in time for our next official appearance.”
Maray rolled her eyes. “Don’t remind me of that.” Public appearances were part of their daily lives now, and no matter how much Maray wanted to dissolve into thin air in front of her people, she was the only Cornay left. Her mere presence gave people hope, and who was she to deny them?
“Thank you, Heck.” Maray got to her feet and bent forward to kiss him on the cheek.
A smile emerged on his lips, making him look like a mischievous boy. “Anytime.” He spun to the side, pretending he was dazed and waved over his shoulder as he left the room.
Maray paced her room for a while, unable to come to terms with the fact that if she didn’t step up, someone else would, and the more she knew about Allinan, the more she loved it. Even if the public appearances with Heck were exhausting and she didn’t like the attention of the crowd, when she looked at the Allinans, she saw her people. A people who cared about traditions almost as much as they cared about the Cornay line on the throne. A people she couldn’t disappoint. That was why it didn’t really matter what feelings she had for anyone. She had to go through with the marriage. The nobles were right.
When Maray finally returned to the blue chair, a knock on her door tore her from her thoughts. “Come in!” she called and got back to her feet to receive whoever was disturbing her, to a position less vulnerable than the slump she had submitted herself to.
Pia strode in, her eyes taunting Maray’s hair. “I really didn’t do a good job this morning,” she noted, seeming oblivious to Maray’s mood.
It was easy to be around Pia. The handmaiden, young as she was with her thirteen years of age, had become a true friend. She hadn’t commented on Maray’s tears or her mood swings after the funeral. She had simply helped keep Maray presentable. Had all of this happened in the other world, Maray would have probably ended up in her sweatpants for weeks, eating ice-cream and sobbing into her pillow. The accumulated loss of mother, grandmother, and the love of her life had been too much to consider any other thoughts than the fact that she needed to be wearing clothing. Pia never ceased to put her into outfits that were equally comfortable as they were appropriate for her status as Crown Princess. Right now, her attention was on the loose braids on Maray’s sides. Pia rushed over and pushed Maray down into the chair before she started brushing out the dark thicket on Maray’s head.
“I don’t even know where we’re going this time,” Maray said, distracting herself from the weight on her shoulders, which threatened to crush her. What should she do? What could she do? The spies seemed to be unable to speak. The nobles, who were hoping to step in if Maray wasn’t ready for the throne, seemed convinced she could be replaced, Oliver Gerenhoff spearheading them. She needed to be there for her people, with Heck, whether she preferred someone else at her side or not.
“From what I’ve overheard—” Overhearing things was one of Pia’s tasks for Maray, “—we’re going outside the palace-walls for once.” She pulled Maray’s hair on the sides, fumbling something through the newly-arranged braids, and stepped to Maray’s front in order to admire her work. “Much better.”
With a sheepish grin, Pia drew a smile from Maray. But it was short-lived. It took only the faint sound of nearing voices to put Maray on alert. The voice speaking outside was hard to not recognize. It was Oliver Gerenhoff, shouting at someone in the hallway, urgency ringing in the echoes.
“He’s talking to Sara and Emir,” Pia said, her shifter-ears much more sensitive than Maray’s could ever be.
“By ‘talking’, you mean he is inviting the entire palace to listen?” Maray darkly commented.
“It seems they are not reacting to his poison as well as the rest of the nobles, though.”
Maray raised an eyebrow, impatient for Pia to continue, but the girl shook her head.
“That’s probably because their son achieved what Oliver wants,” Maray suggested. From their first encounter, Oliver Gerenhoff had been making her feel uncomfortable. How she wished she could simply return him to whatever corner of the realm he had come from. But once again, the corset of Allinan court didn’t allow it. She owed it to him and his family to treat him with respect in order to keep their alliance—only, it seemed an alliance with the Gerenhoff family was as far from Oliver’s mind right now as the throne was out of his reach.
Jemin
Jemin’s mind kept wandering back to that last time he had laid eyes on Maray. Her silken hair, raven as the night, and her eyes—
“You still with me?” Seri whispered and nudged him with her elbow.
Instinctively, Jemin nodded. “Just thinking.”
Seri picked up a stick in front of her feet. “Let me guess.”
“No.” Without knowing what he had said no to, he continued along the narrow, snow-covered path that led out of the forest on top of the hill behind the palace, opening to a stunning view of the Gloriette in the pale morning light.
Seri quickened her strides to keep up with him. Now that Jemin was a shifter, she no longer had an advantage over him, neither in speed, nor strength. She shook out her chin-length hair as she joined him.
“I am sorry it’s been difficult,” she said, acknowledging that Jemin’s brooding mood wasn’t just because of an idea in his mind. His pain, his loss was real. Maray was out of his reach forever. And with Laura’s and Rhia’s deaths, things would move forward even faster. Before she even saw another summer, she would be married to his best friend, and he couldn’t even be upset with them. All that mattered was that Heck would protect her, stand in for Jemin where he couldn’t, hold her hand through the long debates at court, and reign at her side. If only Heck’s duties ended with the council and the throne… He would be responsible for ensuring the line of Cornay. He would eventually give Maray an heir to her throne. Jemin shuddered, earning a sideways glance from Seri.
“Honestly, Jem,” she chided, pulling his sleeve with more compassion than he’d ever thought her capable of, “you will drive yourself mad.”
&nb
sp; Jemin returned her gaze. “Who says I’m not already?”
For a moment, both of them laughed, but the dark cloud swallowed him up a second later as his eyes fell on the palace and the winding stairs that led to the balcony. His entire life had revolved around the palace, the crown, his duties as a guard. Now he belonged with the pack, and his only duty was to follow Neelis and his orders.
Not that it was a bad way of living. He slept in the safe house, or when out on guard, he slept in the forest, curled up in his Yutu shape. Seri was there with him most of the time, a trusted companion who had taken on her own duty, helping him transition into his new life.
Golden rays of sun filtered through the bare treetops and bounced off the snow in prisms of color, a spectacle he could never have seen as a human. It was a shifter thing, the extraordinary sensitivity of all his senses. Sometimes, he wished he didn’t have it, like the moments when he came close to trails Maray had walked and her scent lingered in the snow. But when he saw the ice-crystals reflect in a million colors, he felt privileged to be allowed to witness this layer of nature.
“Hey, you’re smiling.” Seri accused him with a grin.
Jemin shrugged, and they continued on their track toward the Gloriette.
Just as Jemin stepped past the last tree, a shadow moved at the edge of his vision. He froze, and Seri stopped beside him.
“Did you see that?” he whispered, body already shaking as he readied himself to transform. He hadn’t eaten all night, and now that it was breakfast time, hunting down a deer would be just what he needed to take his mind off everything else.
Seri nodded, eyes narrowing as she beckoned Jemin in the direction the shadow had moved. With a surge of adrenaline, he screened the trees behind them, finding wiggling branches where he had seen the movement. He flexed his fingers, ready to hunt, but Seri held him back. While Jemin heedlessly threw himself into any confrontation these days, Seri had become more cautious. She was protecting him by reining in his temper. A temper which was part of being a shifter, but in his case, it more likely derived from his position of helplessness when it came to the aching sensation of being incomplete whenever he thought of Maray. Hunting and fighting were the two things where he could hand himself over to his instincts and forget everything that was connected to Jemin Boyd, the dutiful guard of dimensions and lovesick fool who was bound to watch his girl wander off with someone else and watch their life from a distance. He ground his teeth, eager to transform already and leap after the animal, but Seri held up a finger, cautioning him to wait.
“I don’t think this is a deer,” she whispered, and her gaze turned cold. “This is…” She stopped mid-sentence as before them, the evergreens parted and a dark, cloaked figure stepped out of the branches.
Jemin’s heart accelerated in excitement. This wouldn’t be a normal hunt.
“There.” He pointed at the long row of firs that led to the thicket, back into the forest. Jemin was certain he had seen the resemblance of a human shape and felt his face fall, all expectation of potentially fighting a real Yutu fading. But before he could give in to disappointment, the branches beside him moved, and something leapt at him.
Heat rose in his chest as he let his body take over and shake into the wild beast he was when his Yutu-instincts kicked in. The shadow hit him from the side just as his front paws touched the snowy ground, and the fight was on.
Beside Jemin, Seri had transformed into her Yutu-self and was gripping for the shadow as it rammed into Jemin’s side once more. The impact was brutal, leaving Jemin panting as he flipped out of the shadow’s reach and bared his fangs. In the background, Seri winced. Something wasn’t right. The shadow stood, motionless, gazing at Jemin, one arm lifted under a wide, hooded cloak. As Jemin glanced to the side, he noticed Seri was cowering on the ground, obviously in pain from whatever magic the shadow was using on her.
Jemin growled, making the earth shudder underneath his paws, and launched himself at the cloaked figure. He needed to know who was under that hood. It could only be a warlock. And if they were really unlucky, it was Gan Krai himself. Behind him, Seri’s panting grew more labored by the second.
As Jemin sank his teeth into the warlock’s lifted arm, the satisfying sensation of spilling blood and snapping bones didn’t set in. Instead, his jaws locked around empty fabric, leaving his teeth aching from the impact. He ripped the cloak off the figure and revealed smoke, which was puffing into thin air as it came into contact with the daylight.
The second the shadow disappeared, Seri’s panting stopped, and a human whimper replaced the sound of her breathing. Jemin flipped around, still dragging the heavy cloak between his teeth as he transformed back into his human form, too.
“What was that?” Seri asked, clutching her chest as she pushed herself to her feet.
Jemin released the woolen fabric from his mouth and spat out loose fibers. “I have no idea,” he admitted, furious that he hadn’t been able to reveal the identity of the warlock. “But this was no portal-fog.” Jemin had been traveling back and forth between the two worlds long enough to know the white haze that turned up when someone portaled in or out of Allinan. The smoke the warlock had left behind was a different kind. Grey and more coarse, almost like dissolving ashes. He eyed Seri with concern as she continued clearing her clothes of snow and twigs. “You okay?”
Seri nodded. “It’s just…” She stared at the spot where the warlock had been a moment ago. “I had never encountered anything like it. This wasn’t just normal magic. It was something worse. It was as if he reached directly into my chest and squeezed my lungs with his bare hands.”
Jemin flinched at the picture Seri painted and laid his arm around her shoulders in consolation. “He is gone now.”
Seri nodded and moved closer to Jemin, leaning against his side for support. “For how long?”
With a shrug, Jemin picked up the cloak and led Seri forward, out of the shade of the trees and into the sunlight. The Gloriette was reflecting every shade of winter light in the morning sun, and Jemin’s heartbeat returned to a slower, more controlled pace as he glanced down the hill at the palace. All he could think of was how grateful he was that it had been Seri who had been accompanying him and not Maray. While Seri’s shifter physique was bound to recover within moments, Maray might not even have survived the attack.
“What do you think he wanted?” Seri asked, eyes also on the palace.
Jemin shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said, suddenly feeling drained. The truth was he could actually guess what the shadow had been after. What every shadow, every warlock, every opponent had been after since Jemin had run into Maray on that cold, foggy November day in the palace gardens: Maray Elise Cornay, Crown Princess of Allinan. He hid his growing unease behind a smile. “We should get to Neelis and let him know what happened. Chances are this won’t be the only attack.”
“I don’t think that’s what it was,” Seri remarked and slipped out from under Jemin’s arm, a spark in her eyes. “I don’t think he meant to attack. It’s almost as if he tried to avoid fighting at all.”
Seri had a point. All the warlock had done was keep them at bay, and he had dissolved the second Jemin had attacked. The thought of the smoke made Jemin squeamish. Something wasn’t right. He would have expected whoever was out there to fight when confronted, but he had run before Jemin had had the chance to identify him. “Let’s return to the safe house and report to Neelis. The others should be warned in case they run into whoever that was.”
Seri nodded. “Let’s.” She reached up and laced her fingers with Jemin’s hand, which was still resting on her shoulder.
Jemin stopped. “What are you doing?” He glanced down at her, unsure of what to expect.
“Saying thank you.” She winked. “You saved my life just now.”
For a second, Jemin worried she might have misunderstood the gesture, but she laughed.
“Normally, it’s the other way around. Or have you forgotten who returned you from
the other world after you catapulted yourself out of Allinan following your first transformation?”
It was difficult for Jemin to ever forget his first hours as a Yutu. The fear, the embarrassment as he had ended up naked in the streets of Vienna…
Seri freed Jemin’s hand, and he felt her elbow in his ribs as she nudged him before she pulled the cloak from his grasp and started running. “Come on. Dad will want to know about this.”
When they walked into the meeting room, Jemin’s first look was onto the Crown Princess. Her eyes were waiting for him, but the second their gazes met, his stomach made an uncomfortable jolt, and he searched Neelis’ and Scott’s faces for an indication of how things were playing out at the palace. Both men wore weary expressions, which could only have one of two meanings—either Maray wasn’t responding well to the council’s wishes to move up the coronation, or the council was already looking for a replacement. He wouldn’t have been surprised if some of the noble families had started plotting against her.
Neelis went pale as Jemin and Seri handed him the cloak along with the story of how they had acquired it.
“What is it, Dad?” Seri asked beside Jemin, who was studying every twitch of the pack-leader’s features in order to keep his eyes away from what he really wanted to look at.
They had made it to the safe house in no time, but not found Neelis there. He was attending council meetings alongside Commander Scott and Maray, who was standing between Neelis and Scott like a precious, porcelain doll framed between men of the battlefield. And while Scott and Neelis were already discussing in hushed voices, Maray seemed to have frozen in time from the moment Jemin had walked in the door. Her gaze weighed heavy on Jemin’s heart, searching for the response he knew was buried there inside his chest, a response Jemin ached to give. But what good would it do any of them if he pursued the desperate endeavor of his heart and continued to seek Maray’s affections? His place was no longer beside her—it had never truly been.
Two Worlds of Dominion Page 2