Only one person called Reese little one.
She twisted around and stared at the hooded Fae who’d grabbed her and continued to keep a determined hold on her waist atop his lap. “What are you doing here, Keen?”
He pushed back the hood of his cloak, and angry emerald eyes stared down at her. “I believe I asked you that question.”
Elena had raised her hands when Keen first grabbed Reese—probably to singe his ass with her magic—but she dropped them now.
Reese wished she hadn’t. Keen could use a little zapping.
How had he known she was here? She’d barely seen him in the last few days, and they’d been so careful when they left the palace this evening.
“We’ll give you a moment to…” Elena trailed off, and she and the others went to stand near the door, glancing over every second or two.
Keen couldn’t be trusted, and now he knew Elena and Derek were in Tirnan. “I can explain.”
“Can you?” he asked, anger still in his tone. In fact, his arm around her waist had tightened. “I followed you when Illa came to me, concerned. She sensed a presence in your bedroom the other night, but thought twice before alerting the guards. It is good for your friends that she did not. Elena and her mother are enemies of the state. Had the guards been alerted, they would be imprisoned or dead right now.”
“Only because Portia stole Theda’s crown.”
“Be that as it may, your friends would be executed if discovered.”
“Which,” she said, “is why I didn’t tell you. How do I know you won’t go to Portia and tell her about Theda after we leave this place?”
“I swore to be Portia’s soldier and to protect her. Is she in danger?”
Reese studied his eyes, which seemed to be warning her. She said nothing.
“And if she is not in danger,” he continued as though she’d answered, “there is no reason for me to bother her with this, correct?”
Reese nodded slowly. Keen couldn’t have heard their conversation with Amund while the silence glamour was in place. But if she told him details of their plans to take back the palace, he would be obligated to tell Portia. And he seemed to be saying as much with his eyes.
She wasn’t Fae. She could lie with the best of them and not suffer any ill fate, except to her conscience. But in this case, her conscience was clear, because Portia was an asshole and she needed to be knocked down a peg or two.
“Reese,” Keen said with deep exasperation, “you cannot roam Tirnan. I am trying to keep you alive, but you are making it very difficult.”
“Locking me away in that room isn’t keeping me alive. It’s keeping me trapped.”
“Is there a difference?”
“Yes, damn you!” Reese glanced to the side, realizing she was causing a scene.
She twisted so that she faced him more squarely, and lowered her voice. Belatedly, she realized how close that brought them—their chests nearly touching. “I’m not weak, Keen. And I’m not stupid, despite what my hair color indicates.”
“You are blond. How does that make you stupid?” He seemed sincere.
“Human joke.” Most Fae were blond. For all she knew, fair hair was probably the epitome of superiority and intelligence in Tirnan. “The point is, I can handle myself.”
“You have never gone up against one of my kind.”
“The hallway—”
“That was not a battle,” he said. “That was one man attempting to force his attentions on you.” He ground out the last words. “Had I not arrived when I did, he would have hurt you.”
Keen’s eyes were fierce, yet somehow deeply vulnerable. He didn’t like the reality he’d painted with his words.
He was right, she knew it, but he was so very wrong about her. She appreciated Keen’s concern, but as long as he saw her as something frail and to be protected, he’d never respect her. She wanted his respect as much as she wanted his desire.
“I’ve been underestimated, undervalued, and flat-out ignored by my family my entire life. My philandering parents might have succumbed to the seduction of money, power, and sex, but I’m not my parents,” she said in a low tone. “It’s why I trained to be a fighter. It’s why I excelled in school. I don’t need someone thinking for me. Regardless of how I look, I have principles, and I don’t rely on my appearance to get me around in the world.”
He shook his head and stared away, letting out a deep breath. When his gaze returned to hers, he said, “I do not believe you are weak. I am weak when it comes to you. I keep you guarded so that I don’t have to fear anything happening to you.”
If Reese hadn’t been aware that she was sitting on Keen’s strong thighs, nearly straddling him, as he held her and declared a weakness for her, she was aware of it now.
But his declaration wasn’t enough. Men had wanted her before; they’d simply never loved her. And in the worst case—her father—there was a complete disregard for her. “You’ve done what you said you would. You saved me, and now my friends are here. You can wash your hands of me. Marry my sister, if that’s what you wish.” And if her voice choked on that last part, Reese played it off like it hadn’t.
Keen tucked a lock of golden hair that had slipped forward back beneath the hood of her cloak. “I do not wish to marry your sister.”
“Do you have a choice? Portia wants it. You’re duty bound to do what she says.”
His eyes grew intense. Angry. “For now I’m not committed to another.”
But later he would be. And it wouldn’t be Reese.
Why did she care whom he committed to? Yes, she was attracted to him, but that meant little in the scheme of things.
The problem was that she felt more than attraction for Keen; it had always been like that. The way he looked at her—pissed off most of the time, and also protective and desirous—drove her crazy. But Keen would never be with a Halven. And Reese was Halven.
She squirmed to get off his lap, but he held her there. “Do not go,” he said.
She sighed. What was his problem? “I thought you ordered me back to my cage?”
He raised his eyebrow. “Cage? You are in one of the finest guest rooms in the kingdom.”
“And can I leave it freely?”
“I prefer that you do not.”
“Then it’s a cage.” She glared at those beautiful eyes that often said one thing while his mouth said another.
And then his jewel-toned gaze darkened. And that mouth that irritated her with its words dropped—and caressed her lips.
Reese’s breath caught. Keen would never kiss her—but he was.
Which could only mean one thing. He’d lost his damned mind.
She quickly recovered from her stupor and kissed him back, because the guy who caused her equal parts annoyance and lust was kissing her. Hell yes, she was gonna partake.
His lips were soft, startling in their gentleness. He pulled back the briefest amount, and then his fingers slid up the back of her neck, sending a shiver down her spine. He kissed her again, but this time his lips parted and his tongue entered her mouth, mimicking all sorts of naughty things he never voiced.
Reese slid her hands up his broad shoulders to his head, where she captured him and showed him what he’d been missing. But she never gained control of the kiss. The staunch Fae, who’d scoffed at her elegant red dress because it revealed her shoulders, slid his hand down past her waist and squeezed her ass, showing her without words that he was in control.
Reese’s heart nearly punched out of her chest, and her stomach clenched.
She pulled back and stared at his half-lidded gaze, more to get a grip on herself than anything else. “What’s gotten into you?”
He released her backside and looked away. “I apologize.” He peered in the direction of their friends, who must be shocked, but Reese couldn’t get herself to look away long enough to tell. She needed to know what had just happened.
“You should go,” he said, his shoulders tense, as though he regretted the moment.
She gaped at him. How dare he kiss her like that, then act like it was a mistake? Was that all she was to him?
Oops, didn’t mean to wake up naked with you pressed to my chest.
Sorry, didn’t mean to nuzzle your hair in my sleep.
My bad—my mouth slipped and landed on yours.
She was more. In his world or hers.
Reese scrambled off Keen’s lap, and this time he let her go. She didn’t know if she wanted him to hold on to her or not, but the fact that he let her go just pissed her off more.
If she hadn’t been so angry, she would have realized her hood had dropped back, revealing her face to the room. Revealing that she was no child. That she was Halven.
The angry man with the redhead on his lap pushed the girl away none too gently and stood. The girl scrambled across the room with her head bent, seemingly eager to get away.
Reese looked around. All eyes were on her. And the once-noisy room had gone silent.
Amund stood in the back, along with his warriors. Their eyes moved from the angry Fae to Reese.
She sensed Keen rising to his full height behind her.
“Walk out the door with your friends,” he said lowly. “Go straight to the palace, and for once, listen to me.”
But it was too late. The Fae who’d caught her attention earlier because of the anger she’d sensed rolling off him pulled a small sword from somewhere on his back and bore down on her.
A flash of lightning slammed into the man and he screamed. The sword in his hand clattered at Reese’s feet.
Something or someone—she assumed Keen—pushed her hard in the direction of Elena and the others. And the room spun into full motion.
Chairs scraped, swords were drawn, and voices rose. The front door slammed shut in a gust of wind that came out of nowhere—or more likely from one of the magic wielders. All Fae possessed powers, some stronger than others. But the majority of the people in this room had control over nature’s elements. Like wind. Like lightning.
If Reese made it out of the room alive, it would be a miracle.
She looked back at Keen. “You can’t hold them off. There are too many.” At that exact moment, wind whipped, papers flew past their heads, and glass shattered, muffling her voice. People covered their heads, and Reese glanced at the door to find Derek attempting to pry it open with both hands while Elena stood nearby with her eyes closed.
Her roommate had started a tornado.
Camille separated from the group and approached a man who seemed to be concentrating on the door. He wore peasant clothes, like Reese and the others.
Camille pulled a blunt weapon from inside her top. The peasant glanced down, but it was too late. She clocked him on the side of his temple and he dropped like a sandbag.
A second later, the peasant shook his head and began to rise, but by that time Derek had the front door open.
Reese looked back. She couldn’t leave Keen to fight everyone off, she just couldn’t. His dagger was drawn, his gaze taking in the room. “I won’t leave you here,” she said.
He peered past her and threw the knife.
It landed in the chest of the angry Fae who’d been climbing to his feet, having recovered from the bolt of electricity Elena had hit him with.
“Amund is a friend.” Keen pulled out what looked to be a machete he’d somehow had stashed in a side pocket. “I see he is a friend of yours now as well?” He raised his brow, but his gaze promptly returned to the number of men in the room who were looking less like friends and more like foes. “Amund and I will show the Fae who wishes to harm you and the others why that would be a foolish idea.”
Her friends were calling for her to leave, but she couldn’t. Not yet. “Do you support Theda?” she asked Keen.
“I know not what Theda has planned, and I don’t wish to,” he said pointedly. He threw off his cloak. “Leave!” he shouted, and dove at a group of men attempting to get to her.
“Reese!” Elena called. “Now!”
Keen was beating the crap out of four Fae at once. Then Amund, who kicked the guy in front of him out of the way, turned to help Keen.
Reese ran for her friends and Derek grabbed her hand. A tingling sensation washed over her.
They escaped the pub, all of them hand in hand to maintain the Blending, though when she looked down, she saw herself, the same as always. But that was how Derek’s magic worked. She’d experienced it when they crept out of the palace earlier.
They ran down the cobblestoned street, and Derek tugged her and the others down one side alley, and then another. They stopped beneath a darkened overhang, and Derek broke the Blending. The tingling sensation that had been vibrating down her body disappeared.
“Why are we stopping?” Reese said.
“No one saw which direction we went; we don’t need to Blend anymore. But we should keep going.” Derek nodded to her hood. “Put that back on.”
She did as he said and went to follow him and the others, but Elena grabbed her hand, holding her back.
“What in the fudge was that about, Reese? Since when are you and Keen hooking up?”
“Fudge isn’t a curse word, Elena.” Reese urged her friend forward, and they jogged to keep up with the others.
“My mom’s in front of us. I don’t want to make her uncomfortable with curses. She’s already wary of Derek and me sleeping together on a blanket in your room. Which, when I think about it, is weird, because before her and my dad got married, they were… Well, anyway, that’s another story. Let’s get back to you and Keen.” She glanced over while they maintained a steady pace behind the others. “Is there a you and Keen?”
Reese thought about the kiss that had shocked her—and at the same time had felt like it was a long time coming. And then she considered Keen’s words afterward.
An apology. He’d even ordered her in the past not to touch him.
He might want her, but he didn’t wish to be with her. Not really.
“There isn’t anything going on. That was nothing. Just Keen improvising.”
Elena snorted and nudged Reese toward an alley the others had turned down. “Didn’t look like nothing. Seemed like a whole lot of something, if you ask me. Kind of hot, actually. Except, maybe not so much for the people in the pub, who thought you were a child. Until your hood fell, of course. Kind of hard to miss the woman beneath. And that you’re Halven. You realize this will be all over the kingdom soon? Shit, it will be all over the realm. Portia will know what happened by the time we get back.”
Reese pinched her eyes closed for a brief second. “You said shit,” she pointed out as a distraction. “So much for proper language in front of your mother.”
The look Elena shot her said she knew what Reese was doing.
“It was stupid. The kiss.” Reese shook her head. “I’m sorry.”
They caught up with the others just outside the palace. “Not stupid,” Elena said slowly. “Curious. Maybe even complicated, but not stupid. I love the guy, even if he is a stubborn Fae. But don’t let him give you crap, Reese.”
She chuckled. “Him, give me crap? Never.”
Elena grinned. “That’s my girl.”
Derek looked past them, and Reese turned.
Keen was jogging their way. How the hell?
“You were just in a pub brawl with forty people,” she said as he neared. “How did you get out so fast?”
He glanced at her briefly, but otherwise kept his gaze on the others. “Amund and his men have been looking forward to a good fight. They had it under control. I left soon after you did. But word will spread of Theda’s presence and the Halven working with her.” He glared at Reese. “The Halven who is supposed to be locked away in the palace.”
“What about the Fae guard who crossed the line with the Halven?” she shot back. “Will they talk about him too?”
His gaze grew half-lidded, but no less threatening. “Doubtful. Fae have dabbled with humans and the like for millennia.”
Reese swallowed back the rush of heat that filled her throat, blinking back the pressure behind her eyes. Of course she meant nothing to him. Never had, never would.
Only that wasn’t what she’d felt in his kiss. He cared. It simply didn’t matter, because he didn’t want to care.
“We done?” Derek said, exasperated. “Let’s get inside before Portia’s military finds us here and picks us off one at a time.”
Reese chewed her lip. “Is that the right thing to do? After what happened? Shouldn’t we hide somewhere far away from the palace?”
“We cannot,” Theda said. “They will be searching the area for us. We are better off beneath their noses. Ironically, it will be harder for them to find us inside, among the hundreds that live and protect the palace, than out here on our own, where our energy levels will signal our presence like a beacon.”
Camille created a portal in front of a large tree that looked like a pine, but with a squat, wide base. One by one, they leapt through it and landed inside the training room.
Elena brushed off her legs where she’d skidded across the floor like she was stealing a base. She really needed to work on her portal landings. Camille’s portals were bumpy, but once you got the hang of it, not as difficult as Elena made them out to be.
“There are guards inside your room,” Camille said, looking up, as though she could see through the ceiling.
Derek reached for Elena’s hand. “I’ll Blend us. We can hide out while Keen and Reese…”
“I’ll take care of it from here,” Keen said, a silent acknowledgment passing between them.
A second later, Derek, Elena, Theda, and Camille were gone.
Reese rounded on him. “What do you mean you’ll take care of it? I knew we should have escaped while we could and gotten as far from the palace as possible. What does Derek expect us to do now?”
Keen removed his shirt and kicked off his boots in answer.
“What. Are. You. Doing?”
He brushed back his hair and sauntered over.
Reese backed up, her stupid heart racing. For some reason, it hadn’t gotten the memo that this hot guy wasn’t boyfriend material. “Oh, hell no,” she said. “I don’t like that look in your eye. Reminds me of the deceptive way you looked at me in the pub.”
He drew closer. “And what way was that?”
“Like you wanted me.”
“I don’t want you,” he said, but his body language, his eyes—they spoke differently.
Her jaw shifted and she let out a sigh. “No shit, so stop looking at me like you’re trying to melt off my panties with your gaze. And for the love of God, put your shirt back on!” Despite her words, she couldn’t take her eyes off his chest.
Keen stopped inches away. “We need a cover.” He grabbed her hooded cloak and removed it, tossing it in a far corner. “This is the only way… Will you cooperate?”
“With what?” she asked faintly, too distracted by the muscles of his chest to concentrate.
He drew closer. So close she smelled his clean scent. “The ruse,” he murmured before he took her mouth and picked her up, his arms crossed beneath her ass. “Play along with me?” he said before his mouth covered hers again.
He’d asked her to pretend, but this didn’t feel fake. The heat of his body scorched hers, his lips feverishly trailing from her mouth down her throat, as if he could consume every inch of her.
In the dark recesses of her mind, Reese detected footsteps down the hall. But Keen had found a spot at the top of her breast that was particularly sensitive. He’d pushed her unisex commoner outfit aside and licked her there, then lightly bit her while his hand reached up and squeezed her other breast above her clothes.
She gasped and clamped her arms around his head. Then dug her fingers in his silky hair, kissing his brow.
Keen lowered her to the mat and braced himself over her, his hips slipping between her thighs as she angled up to kiss him. His hand slid up her top until it grazed the bottom of one of her breasts.
Her breath caught. She was really liking this new position, as his body was pressing down on all the fun spots, but… “Is this necessary?”
“No.” He kissed her again and palmed her breast.
He was lucky she liked everything he was doing, or he’d be in a world of hurt right now. From her knee.
Using their situation to cop a feel? Extremely naughty.
Which she liked.
And two could play this game.
Reese reached around and squeezed Keen’s ass. And, oh God, was it a perfect ass.
She arched against him, losing all train of thought as she wrapped her ankles around the back of his legs, feeling him everywhere.
She didn’t hear the door open.
Or hear the soldiers walk in.
“What is the meaning of this?” came an angry female voice.
Keen lifted his head.
Reese started and scrambled to the side, realizing, belatedly, that now wasn’t the time to teach Keen a lesson. Or to enjoy making out—pretend making out—with him. She and her friends were within seconds of being thrown in the dungeon. This wasn’t a game.
Portia stood several feet inside the doorway, an array of guards surrounding her.
“I was just given word that Theda Rainer is in the village,” she said to Keen, who was leaning in leisurely fashion on his side, “along with a Fae who goes by the name of Camille, Theda’s daughter, Elena, and that Halven, Derek O’Brien.” She stared at Reese. “I’m told our Halven was there as well.”
Our Halven? As though Portia owned her? I don’t think so.
Keen reached out and covered Reese’s bared midriff possessively with his warm palm. “As you can see, we are here.”
Reese pushed his hand away and tugged her top down, but Keen discreetly held her shoulder when she tried to sit up.
“I see that,” Portia spat. “Why are you with this”—she waved vaguely at Reese—“when you have Illa as fiancée?”
“I am not promised to Illa.”
“But you will be. In fact, I order it.” Portia’s emotions were all over the board. Rage, disgust—and elation. Portia seemed to get some perverse pleasure out of pushing around the chess pieces and controlling everyone.
“You ordered my fealty as a soldier. You cannot order whom I marry,” Keen said casually.
“And you choose this Halven?” Portia said in disgust.
He hesitated. “Of course not.”
“Then what is the problem? If it is power you wish, let me assure you, you will have it. An entire kingdom’s worth, for I wish for you and Illa to rule Old Kingdom in my stead.” She cut Reese a sharp look. “Trifle with the girl all you want, but bind yourself to Illa.”
Portia spun and stormed toward the door, the guards at her heels. She paused sharply on the threshold. “The girl is banned from training, henceforth. I felt it harmless in the beginning while we needed her out of the way; she couldn’t hurt one of us if she tried. But she’s proven more cunning than I assumed. She needs no further fighting skills, even if you believe her in danger from our kind inside the palace. She has you at her side,” Portia said saccharinely. “What more protection could she require? In the meantime, find Theda. I want her head.”
