Lord Alvi’s voice lowered. “How many are there like him in your family?”
Tiern went rigid, and he spoke through gritted teeth. “No others.”
“Like him?” Vixie asked. “What do you mean by that?”
Lord Alvi looked surprised, as if he had forgotten she was there. “Nothing, Your Highness. I’m joking with the lad.” He grinned and patted Tiern hard enough on the back to push him forward a few inches. Tiern gave a tight smile.
Had Lord Alvi been calling Paxton a coward? Saying it ran in the family? She refused to let him give Tiern a hard time. “Let’s go inside and see about getting you a room,” Vixie said. She moved forward, but Tiern’s voice stopped her.
“I’m not certain this is necessary, Princess. I don’t want to be a bother.” He stole a glance toward Lord Alvi, who had crossed his arms over his chest and watched the two of them with interest.
“No bother at all,” she said. “Just follow me.”
“Aye,” Lord Alvi said to him. “It will be good to have another hunter around.”
She turned and walked toward the steps, unease wringing her gut. Something was going on here that she wasn’t privy to, and she intended to find out.
Chapter
8
Paxton’s eyes shot open in the darkened tent where he slept with the other Lochlan man, Konor. He listened intently, trying to discern what had woken him. Konor’s light snores were all he could hear now. His skin felt sticky from the perpetual moisture in the warm air. He sat up and crouched at the tent’s opening, peering out.
All he saw was darkness and trees, but his instincts were buzzing with alertness. As he turned to get his bow, something cold and metallic gripped his arm with force and yanked him. He yelled and swung out with his other arm, only to have it grabbed as well. He was held in a way that his hands could not touch anything.
He tried to fight, kicking at air and twisting his torso,until his eyes adjusted and he saw people stepping out slowly from the trees, with bows raised at him. One of them, a slight hooded figure with swaying hips, moved forward until she was feet away from him. She lifted back the hood and shook out her dark hair. Paxton’s lungs squeezed at the sight of Rozaria Rocato. Her eyes squinted and then widened as she stared at Paxton. A smile spread across her face.
“Tell me, hunter,” she said, and his hopes sank, “what brings you to Kalor?”
Deep seas . . . she recognizes me from that brief encounter on that bloody island.Ideas fired through his mind until one stuck. He thought she was probably too smart to believe him, but it was worth a try.
“Look at my hands and you will have your answer.”
Her eyes skimmed over to his fingertips and back to his face. “You took part in murdering my favorite beast.”
“I was there, aye. I intended to collect King Lochson’s prize and instate some changes from the inside. But then that fool from the coldlands got to the creature first.”
She studied him. “You would have married the girl and kept your true identity hidden in shame?”
“Not shame. Necessity. Until the king was dead and my Lashed blood was incorporated into the royal bloodlines.”
Rozaria chuckled. She slowly raised her hand to Paxton’s face and he flinched, cursing himself at the fear of her warm hand on his jaw. Without looking away from him she gave an order to her men. “Search their tents. Take any weapons.”
Curses . . . his bow and daggers!
Rozaria cocked her head, that grin of mild amusement and power still on her lips. “You fear me.” Her finger ran from under his ear to down his jawline.
By now, Konor and the Torestan campers were out of their tents, standing huddled together at sword point watching the spectacle.
Rozaria’s hands drifted downward to the knot at the neck of Paxton’s tunic. She untied it, exposing his chest. Paxton’s arms flexed and the men held him tighter. They wore some sort of metal gloves with woven links that pinched his skin.
“What is your name?” Her hands went around his throat and slid down to the tops of his shoulders, under the fabric of his tunic.
He closed his eyes, controlling every urge to fight off her men. “Paxton Seabolt.”
“Mm. Tell me, Paxton Seabolt . . .” Her hands trailed down to his chest and her palms flattened against his skin. “Where do your loyalties lie? Do not attempt to deceive me.”
He tried to calm his heart as he opened his eyes, knowing this beautiful, malevolent face could be the last thing he would ever see.
