Adric's Heart

by Rebecca Rivard

  Rosana realized she was gaping. She closed her mouth with a snap.

  “My lord.” Blaer dipped her shining blond head. “Peace to you and yours.”

  “Peace, Lady Blaer,” the prince returned in a low, rich voice.

  He paced forward, quiet as death, his gaze on Rosana. Distantly, she noted a night fae’s unpleasant scent, but against his unearthly beauty, it somehow didn’t matter.

  He inclined his head to her. “And to you, Senhorita do Rio.”

  So he knew who she was. She jerked her chin in acknowledgement. “Peace.”

  “I offer her as a gift,” Blaer said.

  “Do you?” The prince lifted a winged black brow.

  A gift? Rosana forgot how gorgeous he was and narrowed her eyes. There were rules about these things. The fae couldn’t just snatch you without your permission.

  “I agree to nothing,” she said. “I’m here against my will, and I demand to be returned to Rock Run immediately. My lord.”

  Blaer just smiled.

  Langdon stopped in front of Rosana. He was at least a foot taller. She had to tip her head back to meet his eyes.

  He stared back, growing more beautiful by the second. Power enfolded her, as if he’d sprouted black wings and embraced her.

  Her gaze snagged on his full mouth. She could almost feel his lips against hers, soft, caressing.

  The dark wings tightened around her like a warm cocoon.

  Her breath sighed out.

  The prince’s mouth curved in a faint smile.

  Uneasiness skipped up her spine. She dragged her gaze from his mouth, pulled back her shoulders. “My lord? I repeat, I’m here against my will.”

  “She speaks the truth, Blaer?” Langdon asked, his gaze still on Rosana. “She didn’t enter my court willingly?”

  The fae lady’s smile faded. She shot Rosana a dark look. “Yes, my lord.”

  “A miscalculation, no doubt,” the prince returned silkily. “But perhaps I can convince her to stay.” He smiled into Rosana’s eyes. “What do you think, my dear? Would you like to spend a few days with me?”

  That unearthly beauty tugged at her again. Was he using a glamour on her?

  She scowled and wrenched her gaze from his. “I already gave you my answer,” she said to his chest. “I want to leave. Now.”

  “Is there nothing I can do to change your answer to a yes?” He fingered one of her curls. The dark power constricted.

  Tighter, tighter.

  Her heart sped up. She took short, rapid breaths, unable to fill her lungs. She fought the urge to thrash wildly at the invisible cocoon. He’d only use her fear to ensnare her further.

  Instead, she stared stonily at the V of his shirt. “No, my lord.”

  Langdon knew she was afraid. So did Blaer. They had both stilled, their bodies vibrating with a greedy hunger.

  But the prince nodded and to her surprise, released her hair and stepped back.

  Her breath whooshed out.

  Blaer glanced between the two of them, frowning. Rosana edged away from her.

  “You’re hungry.” Langdon waved his hand and a steaming bowl of fish stew appeared on the table with the silver vase. “I’ve had my cook prepare something.” Another flick of his fingers and a basket of crusty brown bread settled beside the stew, along with a bowl of fruit and a plate of small, perfect chocolates.

  Rosana eyed the food, her mouth watering. He was right. She hadn’t eaten since dinner last night.

  It could be a trick. Eat his food, and you’ll end up “owing” him.

  She swallowed and looked away. “No, thank you.”

  “Then perhaps some wine?” A crystal glass appeared in her hand.

  She stared down at the pale gold liquid. Maybe just a sip? She moistened her lips. It looked so good, and her throat still ached from Luc’s attack.

  Her fingers tightened on the stem. She set the wine on the table. “Not right now.”

  The prince shrugged a shoulder. “As you wish. But please, sit.” He indicated a black burned-velvet couch on the other side of the room.

  Rosana fingered the stiletto in her back pocket. For courage.

  Because using it was a last resort. Even if she managed to escape this room, she’d still have to evade any guards and somehow open the portal to the outside world.

  “With respect, Lady Blaer brought me here against my will. She admitted it herself. Now, either let me leave or I’ll call on Queen Cleia.” She spoke the sun fae woman’s name loud and clear.

  Langdon picked up the wine she’d refused, sipped it. “I should tell you that the queen can’t get through our wards. In fact, it’s unlikely she can even trace you to the court.”

  “She might surprise you,” Rosana returned, but her heart sank. She was on her own, then. Even if Cleia had heard her earlier cry for help, she had no reason to suspect that Rosana had been taken to New Moon. And Dion might have a hunter’s Gift, but Luc had made sure she couldn’t leave a trail. She’d been closed up in his car until they’d reached the forest.

  Blaer shifted impatiently on her sky-high heels. “My lord?”

  “You did well,” Langdon replied. “I accept your gift.”

  Rosana glared at them both. “I am not a fucking gift.”

  The two fae ignored her. “So I’ve won a place at your court?” Blaer asked.

  The prince inclined his head. “Olivier will assign you an apartment. You will, of course, refrain from any attempts to influence my court. You’ll find I’m not as forgiving as King Sindre.”

  Blaer’s face set into a pleasant mask. And it was a mask. Rosana scented her anger, mixed with a cold determination.

  “I understand, my lord.” She sketched a small bow.

  The prince studied the tall blond mixed-blood for a moment. “Do you?” he murmured, and then turned to Rosana, effectively dismissing Blaer.

  Behind him, the fae lady’s eyes blazed, twin red fires flaring to life inside obsidian pupils. But she meekly murmured, “Peace to you and yours,” and strode to the door, silver heels clicking on the marble floor.

  A portly human with deep brown skin and a shiny bald head appeared in the doorway. “If you’ll come with me, my lady. I believe we have an empty apartment near the north gardens.”

  Rosana eyed Langdon, tight-jawed. “You won’t get away with this.”

  “You’re angry,” he said—and smiled. But of course, to a night fae, anger was like catnip.

  Her hands balled at her sides. “You know who I am,” she said evenly. “Keep me here against my will, and my brother will come after you with everything he has.”

  “You’re the woman I saw in the scrying glass,” he said as if she hadn’t spoken.

  She stilled. “Am I?”

  “Oh, yes.” A tilt of his gorgeous head as he examined her, a wolf with an intriguing—and very tasty—rabbit. “Which brings me to an interesting question: why were you looking for me?”

  Oh, Lord. She did not want to bring Merry into this—or Adric, for that matter.

  She spread her hands. “It just…happened.” Which was true enough. “Is that what this is about? You’re pissed off that I accidently spied on you?”

  “Pissed off?” he repeated. “No, merely curious. I assure you, I had nothing to do with Lady Blaer bringing you here.”

  Somehow, he was just a foot away again, that dark, seductive power licking at her. And gods, it was tempting to give in to it.

  No. I love Adric.

  But Adric doesn’t want you. Not enough anyway. He cut the mate bond, and then he left you. You begged him to take you along, told him if he didn’t, he’d die—and he still left.

  Her heart squeezed.

  “You’re distressed,” the prince murmured. “But there’s no need. As you say, you’ve agreed to nothing.” He paused. “Yet.”

  She shook her head and slipped around him. Putting some distance between herself and that seductive aura.

  She picked up the wine glass, toyed wit
h the stem without drinking.

  Stall for time. Think about Dion, not Adric.

  Because Dion would come for her. That she knew, as surely as she knew the sun rose in the east and set in the west.

  Just picturing her large, very capable brother heartened her.

  “It’s you who was spying on Rock Run,” she said. “If I happened to See you, that’s not my fault. We just—intersected somehow.”

  Langdon nodded without confirming or denying that he’d been spying on her clan, or at least, on Merry.

  “So you’re a Seer.”

  Rosana’s spine prickled. “I didn’t say that.”

  “No,” he agreed. His black eyes scrutinized her like she was an insect under a microscope. “I seem to recall your mother is, too. But then, her mother was a quarter fae.”

  Rosana swallowed. She didn’t like that this dark prince knew so much about her family. But that was the fae; they collected information like dragons did treasure, hoarding it on the chance it might be useful.

  “The question is, why were you scrying for me?”

  She couldn’t tell Langdon about Merry. Rock Run had never officially confirmed that the teenager was still alive. It didn’t matter that he knew differently. Admit it straight out, and the night fae would have grounds to retaliate, resulting in open war between New Moon and her clan.

  She saw only one option—admit she was a Seer.

  “I was curious.” She threw his own words back at him. It was the truth, after all. “I didn’t expect to See anything.”

  Least of all, Prince Langdon himself. The most she’d hoped for was some clue that might help Merry.

  “You’re quite Gifted for one so young. You’re being trained?”

  “Yes.” She set down the wine glass, nerves shrieking at all these questions. But he was a powerful fae, and she was in his territory. Answer his questions, and maybe he’d be satisfied, let her leave.

  Yeah, right. And jellyfish can fly. But she had no choice but to play along.

  “Odd, that I haven’t heard of you before now.” He sank gracefully onto the burned-velvet couch, crossed one long leg over the other. “I could work with you. It’s been many turns of the sun since I encountered a Seer with such a strong natural Gift.”

  Oh, no. Hell, no.

  “It’s good of you to offer,” she returned smoothly, “but the sun fae are overseeing my training.”

  “With me, you wouldn’t have to hide who you are.”

  She flinched. What did he know?

  A tiny nod. “I thought as much. Others so rarely understand what it is to be a Seer. They fear us, ridicule our Gift. Or worse, ignore our warnings.”

  Like Adric.

  “Yes,” he said with a commiserating smile. “That’s the hardest of all, isn’t it? When the people we love simply won’t listen.”

  Rosana moved to the panther statue. The butterflies were still perched on its snarling black head, their fragile blue wings opening and closing.

  She stared at them unseeingly. Don’t agree to anything.

  But, a sly voice countered, Langdon’s an old, powerful fae. He’s probably forgotten more than Colm ever knew.

  “My people would honor a Seer with your Gift,” the prince purred from the couch. “You could name your price. You’d be a wealthy woman—you could buy and sell your own brothers. But more, you’d have their respect. They don’t see you how you really are, do they?” Soft, seductive tones. “They think you’re still a child who doesn’t know her own mind.”

  Her hand fisted.

  “I’m right, aren’t I?”

  She shook her head, not because he was wrong, but because it hurt to admit he was right.

  “Think about it. That’s all I ask.”

  Temptation tugged at her. She swallowed around the constriction in her throat. “No,” she rasped.

  On the couch behind her, Langdon made a sharp, irritable movement. “Consider what you’re turning down. Imagine the power you’d wield as an honored Seer.”

  She closed her eyes. Because she could picture it.

  She fingered Adric’s amethyst through the shirt. If she stayed at the court, she’d lose him.

  Her mouth twisted. So? He doesn’t want you. Even your own clan doesn’t know who you really are. Here, you could be yourself.

  Her fingers tightened around the pendant.

  No. That’s Langdon’s darkness talking.

  Beneath her shirt, the pendant warmed, almost as if Adric had infused it with a spark of his own energy.

  Adric had given the pendant to her, attached it to a leather thong so she could always wear it. In that instant, she saw something very clearly—with her heart, not her Sight. The warmth expanded to fill her chest.

  Adric did want her. He just didn’t want to want her.

  And suddenly, she wasn’t tempted at all.

  She turned around. “And if I say no? Will you let me leave?”

  The prince moved an elegant shoulder. “Perhaps.”

  Anger balled in her stomach. “You can’t keep me here.”

  “No? Try to leave without my permission and the portals will slam shut. I’m told it’s like running full speed into a stone wall.”

  “You think you’re safe behind your wards?” She stalked toward him. “Keep me here against my will and my brothers will carve out your fucking liver and feed it to the fish.”

  The prince’s mouth curved. “You’re a bloodthirsty little thing, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah.” She smiled back, drew the stiletto—and leapt over the couch. She instinctively avoided touching his skin with her bare hands. Instead, she grabbed his long black hair, jerked his head back and touched the needle-like point to the hollow of his throat. His flesh sizzled, the acrid scent stinging her nostrils.

  Langdon stilled—and then he raised a diamond-studded brow, that irritating half-smile on his lips again. “Now what?”

  She pressed the blade a little deeper. “This isn’t a joke, asshole,” she said in her animal’s guttural voice.

  His hand shot out, quick as a striking snake, to grip her jaw.

  “Careful,” he gritted. “Right now the fact that you amuse me is all that’s keeping me from returning you to Blaer. She’s rather primitive in how she treats fada. She seems to consider you animals to be kept in cages. Perhaps you heard what happened to the Baltimore alpha’s sister?”

  “Marjani Savonett?” She sucked in a horrified breath. Adric’s sister had been shut in a cage?

  But she’d gone too far to back down now. “Go to Hades. I’m not here to fucking amuse you.” She pushed the stiletto deeper, piercing the skin.

  Blood slid down Langdon’s throat, soaking the V of his pristine white shirt.

  Cold fingers dug into her jaw. “That, my pretty little fada, was a mistake.”

  A red flame flared to life deep in his pupils.

  She swallowed and tried to wrench her gaze away. But she was caught. The dark power that had been pulling at her surged to life. Tentacles wrapped around her like an invisible octopus, latching on to her skin with eager, mindless mouths.

  Terror swamped her. “Stop it!”

  She knocked Langdon’s hand from her jaw and slapped at the writhing tentacles. But her hands slipped through them as if they weren’t there.

  Langdon rose from the couch without taking his gaze from hers. Her lungs seized. Her fingers opened and the stiletto clattered to the floor as she stared helplessly into his fire-touched pupils.

  Yesss. The mindless tentacles drank up her fear, enjoying it.

  She shook her head from side to side. Her knees felt like jelly.

  Look away.

  But she couldn’t. She was ensnared, helpless as a trout in a net.

  Breathe in. Breathe out.

  A sharp rock of fear lodged in her throat.

  I can’t. Hopelessness welled up inside her.

  Yes, you can. This isn’t you—it’s him. He’s making you feel this way.

 
Somehow, she managed to drag her gaze from Langdon’s. Her breath shuddered in. She stared at the floor, chest heaving, and stopped her useless slapping at the tentacles.

  “Get them off me,” she said. She tried to make it a command, but it came out more like a plea.

  He stalked toward her. “I want you.” A cold statement, spoken through set lips.

  She blinked. “What? No.”

  “You still think to fight me?” His brows bunched in a baffled frown, and the sucking sensation receded.

  She took a deep breath and lifted her chin. “I won’t bargain with a man who’s attacking me.”

  A considering pause. Then he nodded. “Very well.” As suddenly as the tentacles had appeared, they disappeared.

  She backpedaled, getting as far from him as she could. When her back hit a bookcase she halted, sucking in oxygen, skin crawling.

  Langdon picked up her stiletto, tossed it into the air. It transformed into a small brown bat and with a high-pitched squeal, shot across the room straight toward Rosana.

  She stilled. What kind of Gift did Langdon have, that he could bring inanimate objects to life?

  The bat circled her head, its tiny face inquisitive, its scent wild, earthy, and then flapped away, curiosity satisfied, to perch on a window valence.

  The prince stalked toward her, hand outstretched. “Come.”

  She forced herself to take it. His fingers were cool, firm.

  He drew her toward the table. “Sit,” he said, and it wasn’t a request. “Eat my food. Drink my wine. And then we’ll talk.”

  She moistened her lips. The best thing was to buy some time. Dion would come for her, and Cleia.

  And then there was Adric. He’d left before her.

  Which meant he was probably already in Virginia.

  Ice sheeted down her spine. What if her being at the court somehow set off the timeline that led to his death?

  The prince pulled out a chair for her. She sank numbly into it. As he took the seat beside her, an ornate silver spoon appeared on the table next to the fish stew.

  “Eat.” Langdon nudged the bowl in her direction.

  26

  Dion practically flew south, Rui and the others fanning out to either side so that their motorcycles formed a five-man arrow with him at the point. Just let the humans try and stop him.