I blink at the commotion down every hallway. "What are they preparing for? The funeral?"
"His highness Ahren is set take the throne in a few days."
"So this is for a celebration then?"
When Dana marches past us with bundles of linen in her arms, I reach out for her, stepping in her path.
She bows and darts past, the older man huffing and vanishing into a room.
"Guess it's not every day a new king is crowned," I murmur. Of course, I don't expect to be invited, though I do hope Deimos or Luther sneak me in. I want to see the throne room decorated elaborately, to witness the ritual and party to understand fae culture. To see if they are anything like medieval festivities in movies.
Leaving behind the commotion, we enter the dining room in the mansion. The beautiful wall of windows always draws my attention to the ocean of trees and mountains. This has to be one of my favorite rooms.
"I'll request a drink for you," Michae states and heads through the back door that leads into the kitchen.
Returning my attention to the window, I glance out there and try not to overthink all the commotion that makes me feel like I'm being left out. This isn't about me, I keep telling myself.
Footsteps close in behind me, and I turn, expecting Michae, except it's Luther. Where did he come from?
My chest swells with the way his mouth spreads into a delicious grin. His dark hair is swept off his face, and his cheeks glow like he's been outside in the cold. The black tunic he wears hugs his strong chest and broad shoulders, gold dots embroidering the round neckline. A leather belt sits loosely around his waist, and his leather pants hug muscular thighs. His boots are speckled with snow, confirming my suspicion.
"I've been searching for you," he says, taking my hand in his and drawing me toward him. “I have a surprise.”
“What is it?” I can't help but grin widely, lapping up the attention he gives me.
“You’ll see.”
Just then, Michae emerges carrying a glass of juice and places it on the long dining table for me.
"Order the chef to arrange a packed feast for me. We don’t have much time to wait," Luther orders.
The guard taps his chest just over his heart twice. "Of course, Your Highness." Then he returns to the kitchen.
Luther looks devilishly handsome today, and I love how his greedy fingers hold onto me, never letting me get far from him.
"Did you just come out of the meeting with Deimos and Luther?" I ask, curious about what they discussed and if it had anything to do with finding the king's killer.
"It dragged so long. They didn't even serve us lunch, and I'm starved. Deimos will most likely find his way here soon. He eats like a lion."
"And Ahren?" I query.
He slides strands of hair caught in my eyelashes behind my ear, and something crosses his gaze. Is it pity? Does he know Ahren pushed me aside, that now I pine for him? I hate myself for coming across that way, but I can’t control how I feel about these princes.
"He's busy," Luther explains. "He'll be busy for a few weeks, at least." His hand falls to my lower back and nudges me to the table. "Come, let's sit as we wait."
But I don’t budge from my spot. "Is that how long crowning a king takes?"
He swallows loud, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down his throat. He hesitates, and it only strengthens my suspicion that there is so much more going on here. Why am I being kept in the dark?
"Luther, what's going on with Ahren? Why is he turning away from me?" I don’t want to bring this up here and now, but the way he stares at me draws my emotions to the surface. I fell hard for three princes, but in truth, I'm still getting to know them. Still discovering their secrets. So what exactly is Ahren's?
Luther licks his lips, looking like he’s deciding what to tell me. "He needs to talk to you himself. I'm sorry, little wolf. I'm surprised he hasn't, but I'll mention it to him."
My stomach drops and hits the ground. Just great. So there is something beyond him having extra responsibility or whatever else he insisted. They were lies.
Now my mind spins with horrible scenarios, like he's sick and going to die, or he needs to go live across the realm for years as part of taking the throne, or... god, I need to stop torturing myself.
"Little wolf, you will always have me and Deimos by your side."
Why does he keep saying that? I pull from him and turn to the window, wishing more than anything I had wings like a bird and could fly out there. To feel free and not be so confused and trapped.
In this realm, I’m the stranger.
The foreigner who is vulnerable and gullible.
I rely on the princes, and I hate that. I see that now, because they can walk away just as easily as Ahren is. Where does that leave me?
Luther stands at my back but doesn't hold me. The heat from his body engulfs me like a warm blanket.
"Why can't you tell me what's going on with Ahren? I hate this. I don't even know where I belong. I keep getting brushed aside, needing to hide who I am. Is that who I will be? The person swept away when things get too real?" Anger and frustration tighten around my throat.
Luther takes my shoulders and spins me to face him. My back presses against the glass window, and I glance up at him.
"That's not fair, little wolf. We have to keep you safe until we find a way to make your stay here more permanent. I've told you before that I'll do anything to protect you, and you need to trust me, now more than ever."
There's truth in his warm eyes. I glance down, feeling heat in my
