But the Autumn King beheld that concentrated seed of light at Bryce’s finger. His flames banked. Any amusement or rage leached from his expression as he murmured to Morven, “Run.”
“Now that’s the first wise decision you’ve made,” Bryce mocked.
A beam of slicing, burning light shot from her hand toward the ceiling.
Then solid rock rained down upon them all.
* * *
Ruhn had just decided that he really should go see where his friends had disappeared to all day, and was about to do so after leaving the archives that night when he found himself walking back toward the bedrooms with Lidia.
“I know it’s an unusual situation,” she said when they reached his door, “but I liked working with you today.”
He halted, throat working before he managed to say, “Must be nice, to finally get to … be yourself. Out in the open.”
“It’s complicated,” she said quietly.
She shifted on her feet, like she wanted to say more but didn’t know how, so Ruhn decided to do her a favor and asked, “Wanna come in for a minute?” At her arched brow, he added, “Just to talk.”
Her lips curved, but she nodded. He opened his door, stepping aside to let her in. They found seats in the threadbare armchairs before the crackling fire, and for a moment, Lidia stared at the flames as if they were speaking to her.
Ruhn was about to offer her a drink when she said, “Everything in my life is complicated. All the relationships, real and faked … sometimes I can’t even tell them apart.” Her voice was soft—sad. And utterly exhausted.
Ruhn cleared his throat. “When you and I …” Fucked. “Slept together, you knew who I was. Beyond the code name, I mean.”
Her eyes found his, dancing with flame. “Yes.”
“Did it complicate things for you?”
She held his stare, her eyes as gold as the flames before them, and his heart thundered. “No. I was shocked, but it didn’t complicate anything.”
“Shocked?”
She gestured to him. “You’re … you.”
“And that’s … bad?”
She huffed a laugh, and it was so much like Day that he couldn’t get a breath down.
“You’re the defiant, partying prince. You have all those piercings and tattoos. I didn’t have you down for being a rebel.”
“Trust me, it wasn’t on my five-year plan, either.”
She laughed again, and the breathy sound went right to his cock, wrapping tight. Her voice had always done that. “Why risk it?”
“At first?” He shrugged, fighting past the rising lust pounding through his body. “Cormac blackmailed me. Said he’d tell my father about my mind-speaking abilities. But then I realized it was … it was the right thing to do.”
“Agent Silverbow will be sorely missed. He already is.”
“You knew Cormac, then?”
“No, but I knew of the things he accomplished for Ophion, and the people caught up in the war. He was a good male.” She glanced to the shut door. “His father did not deserve a son like him.”
Ruhn nodded.
She looked at him intently. “Your father, too—he does not deserve a son like you.”
The words shouldn’t have meant anything, especially coming from the Hind, but Ruhn’s throat tightened at the raw honesty in her voice.
“Can I ask,” he ventured, “about your deal with the Ocean Queen?”
Lidia’s jaw tightened. “I was young, and afraid, when I made my bargain with her. But even now, I’d make the same choices. For my sons.”
“What happened?” He met her eyes. “I know it’s not my business, but …”
“Pollux isn’t their father.” He nearly sighed with relief. “It …” She struggled for words. “I come from a long line of powerful stag shifters. We have rituals. Secret ones, old ones. We don’t necessarily worship the same gods that you do. I think our gods predate this world, but I’ve never confirmed it.”
“Let me guess: You participated in some kind of secret sex rite and got pregnant?”
Her eyes widened, then she laughed—a full, throaty sound this time. “Essentially, yes. A fertility rite, deep in the Aldosian Forest. I was selected from the females of my family. A male from another family was chosen. Neither of our identities were known to each other, or to each other’s families. It was quick, and not particularly interesting, and if there was fertility magic, I couldn’t tell you what the Hel it was.”