His words forced tension to fill the space we occupied within the library. A quick glance at both Killian and Brander told me they’d felt the same fear churning within them as I did. Lore, on the other hand, was Lore. His eyes lifted as they met mine, then slid to Greer, who frowned as Lore’s brows shot up and a smirk pulled up the corners of his lips. Then he broke the silence with the question churning through all our minds.
“So, how do we get my girl back? Daddy needs to be sure his future baby momma is safe. Can’t have her having all the fun, either. I mean, I get she needed to do this, even if it was a stupid idea. But think about this, gents. If Daddy Lore rides in on a stallion to save the pretty princess? Shit, Aria may saddle up and ride me like a cowgirl in reverse while milking my balls,” Lore stated as he turned his head to peer at a picture of the magazine he held. “I don’t know who this Marilyn Monroe is, but baby girl is on fire! Bet she’d be fun between the sheets. Think she’s still single? Because I’m going to be honest here, I wouldn’t mind rolling around with her. Hell, I don’t even care if it’s in the grass or mud.”
My palm scrubbed over my face at his inability to stay on one subject. Lore was much younger than the rest of us, but his brain had its own thought process, which bordered on chaos and strategic planning. Unfortunately, the former was normally holding the reins. The others chortled before tossing back their whiskey while buying time to find a polite way to break Lore’s heart.
“If by ‘sheets’ you mean a body bag? I’m certain Norma Jean’s currently turning in hers after hearing your crudeness, Lore.” Greer’s rebuttal had Brander and Killian chuckling as Lore’s frown deepened.
“Who the hell is Norma Jean?” Lore asked with confusion stamped over his face.
“Marilyn Monroe was a stage name. Norma Jean was her actual name,” Greer explained with the patience of a saint. “I swear, you and peasant have more in common than she and the king do. For the record, she’s off-limits. I’ll not have you tarnishing her image with your . . . juices. Find someone other than the Blonde Bombshell’s image to deface.”
“Is there a way into the new realm?” I interjected during a moment of silence between them. Both missed Aria and her sass. Greer missed her litany of slander, while Lore missed her down-to-earth attitude and rattles.
“If there is, well, you’d find the answer you seek here. This library houses information pertaining to every land within its cosmos, but also every magical being living in them as well. If it were my girl who’d gone traipsing off to a strange place, I’d be devouring every book pertaining to the creation of it. Then I’d tear it apart until I knew how to enter it as well. But that’s just me,” Greer stated.
“I’ve searched every annex in this place. There’s no mention of the new realm, not that I’ve discovered.” Did he think I wasn’t scouring the entire library for any hint on how to reach her? From the second I’d felt her leaving this place, I’d become obsessed with forcing her back here, to me.
Greer shrugged indifferently before finishing the two fingers of bourbon in a single drink. “Then you’re not looking hard enough, King Karnavious. If you want her? Fight for her. That girl’s worth fighting to keep. If you want her, then fight. If you don’t, then you’ll only have yourself to blame when your prideful ass is alone with no one but your miserable, ill-tempered disposition for company.”
“Damn, Greer,” Brander muttered. “At least use some lube before you fuck his heart that hard. He intends to fight for Aria. It’s Knox. The poor bastard is infatuated with her. Shit, we all are. Knox knows that if he doesn’t fight for her, we’ll all be willing to take his place. He isn’t about to lose her, not after we forced him to face what we’ve all known.”
“And what is that?” I demanded as his words caused Lennox to rear his head, preparing to rattle until they bowed before him.
“That Aria is your queen. She’s your other half, asshole. That girl was born to bring you to your knees. But she’s also the one who’s helped heal your wounds.” Brander’s eyes slipped to obsidian as Lennox released a soft rattle, as if he respected my brother’s overall opinion of Aria.
“He’s not wrong, Knox,” Killian agreed with his eyes downcast from Lennox, who sat beneath the surface of the veneer I wore. “As someone who was against her to start with? You know I hate admitting to ever being incorrect. But I was about Aria. She makes you a better king. That girl makes us all see beyond the hate we held against witches. Fuck, you know I tried to hate her. It was impossible to hate her, though. She sings to babies and carries them as if they’re her own. She’s the queen, to your king, and there’s not another I’d approve of sitting beside you on the throne of Norvalla.” Killian shoved his fingers through his messy hair and smiled. “So, where do we look for the answers to gain entrance into the new realm? Because I sure as fuck don’t intend to watch you sulk until she returns. Besides, my guess is this within that realm? There are other women who rattle and purr. I’m glad you got one, but that doesn’t mean I’m not jealous that you did.” The other men snorted their agreement as I rose, smiling.
“Then we best get to it, assholes. If Greer is correct. Which, we know he normally is, Aria’s walking into a hostile environment. She assumed they’d welcomed her with open arms. But that might not be the case.”
“Have you met Aria?” Lore asked with one eyebrow pushed up to his hairline. “Because that little momma isn’t about the ‘fuck around lifestyle’。 My future woman is more about the ‘find out what happens when you do’。 We should pray for them. They’ll underestimate her. Aria’s dainty like a flower, but that is a gross miscalculation. Nah, Aria’s the nuclear option. And when she chooses violence?” He shivered, as if imagining what she’d do. “Let’s just say if they force her to that point, we won’t need a doorway into their realm. They’ll be rushing out of there in hordes, which’ll be a hard thing to miss for anyone watching for her to return to the realms.”
Chapter Seven
Aria
Aria
Scylla’s handmaidens had given me a flowing white gown with gold thread sewn within the waistline and bust. Matching suns pinned a flowing cape to my shoulders, and my unbound hair cascaded to my hips. I had felt the heat of the armlets that Scylla had placed on me to symbolize her approval of my claim to the throne.
Still, the entire outfit looked like something stolen from the Game of Thrones wardrobe.
The moment I reappeared, I found myself surrounded by hedges. After a moment of uncertainty, my feet began moving toward the palace discernable in the distance. I rounded a corner and then crashed into a solid, unmovable frame.
The hands that shot out to steady me sent a shock rushing through me, forcing me to jerk away from the unfamiliar touch. A warrior studied my face with interest simmering in turquoise eyes. His silver hair was cut shorter than most men wore it here. There was a braid, which held midnight strands woven behind his ear. He almost resembled Henry Cavill in his role of The Witcher, only with more pronounced features and far colder eyes.