Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 112500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 563(@200wpm)___ 450(@250wpm)___ 375(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 563(@200wpm)___ 450(@250wpm)___ 375(@300wpm)
Their evenings of talking, quarreling, and heavy petting had left him panting after her like a stag in rut. But…she wasn’t his mate. Under the full moon last night, he’d kept his beast leashed and fulfilled his duties with Straegan.
So why do I still want her so much?
“My mate bears no claiming mark upon her neck,” Thane said, glancing toward the window, where the morning’s sea fog pressed thick against the glass.
“She dinna surrender?” Lowell raised a brow. Few females resisted Thane’s legendary prowess.
“Nay. She foiled my plans and bested me.” He shifted in his seat. And again. “Her loyalty to her kind makes her surrender impossible.” Lykae revered loyalty, and Thane couldn’t hide the admiration in his words. “But I’ll find a way to have her. Nothing will stop me.” Whatever had passed between king and witch had only deepened his fixation. “My mam used to say that finding one’s mate is like discovering an interlocking soul. I thought her fanciful. Yet each minute with my witch proves her right.”
Lowell bit back a disrespectful quip about mass delusions. Lykae were taught matehood as a religion; no wonder they found transcendence in it.
Did he believe certain scents were more attractive than others, perhaps one above all? Aye. Had his own parents found great happiness together? Aye.
Yet this fated bond still made a lone wolf like Lowell scratch his head. The only way to understand it was to experience it. Sounds religious to me.
“It’s a fever in me,” Thane confessed. “Each time I breathe, I scent her. If I sleep, I see her eyes.” He certainly looked changed. Lighter, less jaded. For an immortal frozen into one guise forever, that was saying something.
And still, interlocking souls sounded like nonsense to Lowell. He’d rather wrestle with practical issues—like how to unite two realms at odds. “I’m used to solving problems for this kingdom, but I canna solve this one. The Wiccae hate us. You and your mate are a war waiting to happen.”
“They doona know us. And we doona know them. Can you no’ win Meera’s confidence?”
Lowell said, “She refuses to trust me explicitly.” Probably because she knew his pack would always come first. Of course it would. No doubts on that score. None.
After all, she wasn’t his mate.
“A problem all around then.” Thane tapped a clawed thumb against his glass. “There are rogue witches who might sell information about the coven.”
Lowell nodded. “I can reach out to them. They also might give us a way to contact Akelarre directly and negotiate a truce.”
“Go over my mate’s head?” Thane huffed a laugh. “Few things could enrage her more. Still. All options remain on the table.”
A knock interrupted them.
“Enter,” Thane called.
A Lykae page stepped inside. “My liege, an incubus by the name of Inkletter Scribe requests an audience.”
Thane leaned forward. “A demon visitor to the kingdom? That’s Arctos’s friend, the spy.”
“The verra same,” Lowell said.
Thane steepled his fingers. “I scent intrigue.”
“Aye,” Lowell agreed. “And mayhap he knows something about any demon halflings that are new to the kingdom.”
“Just so.” Thane gestured. “Send him in.”
***
Thane
The tall incubus moved like ink poured from a well—deliberate, smooth—and yet he was impossible to read. “My liege, thank you for receiving me.” He gave a grave nod, a proud male’s bow.
“You should thank Arctos,” Thane replied. “I want to know what has happened to my friend to make him so quiet.”
Inkletter parted his lips, then hesitated.
“Best to tell me now. No force in the Skein will keep me from finding out what you’re holding back. Lykae curiosity’s a powerful thing, and Arctos would tell me anything anyway.”
“That is true,” Inkletter allowed. “But I cannot reveal a patron’s details.”
“I could wring them out of Ravinelun with a single scroll,” Thane said dryly. “But never mind that. We doona get demonic visits often enough here in Craigdúr. Tell me the reason for yours.”
“I hear you’ve found your mate and that you might be having difficulties. I can assist.”
Thane and Lowell exchanged a look. “That so?” Thane murmured. “Interesting how word travels. The castle must have a leak, which does no’ often happen.” Pack dynamics demanded loyalty. Has to be Jastorgh.
“I make it my business to know the state of kingdoms. Yours, Thane of Craigdúr, lacks its rightful queen. I presume you seek a way to claim her. I have information that could help.”
“For a price,” Thane guessed.
“For a fortune,” said Inkletter matter-of-factly. “You rule the wealthiest territory in the Skein.” He named a brow-raising figure.
Thane’s smile deepened. “Convince me my monumental purchase will be worth it.”
“I know of a Sorceri queen who can help you divine a way to be with your mate, despite every obstacle. I will sell you her name and location.”
In the Skein, a queen wasn’t only a ruler. Among the magically inclined, a queen was a sorceress or witch who possessed the most skill with a particular ability. “Why should I trust the information of a Sorceri? They’re the maddest of immortals.” And one had already rocked this kingdom in the past.