Page 377 of Primal Bonds

For a decade, she’d only been let out of the tower for occasional visits, until she’d grown old enough to play Sindre’s games and he’d decided it amused him to let her rejoin his court.

Fleur brushed a cool finger down Blaer’s cheek.

Blaer stiffened. Even as a child, her mother had rarely touched her. She hadn’t needed to. A night fae could inflict a world of pain without any physical contact.

“You’ve grown,” Fleur murmured. “Become a beautiful young woman…and a powerful one.”

So that’s what this was about. Blaer’s mouth twisted. But she’d play along, see what her mother wanted.

“And I see you’ve been appointed high priestess. You must have…pleased the prince.”

Fleur’s full lips lifted in a catlike smile. “He seems satisfied.” She glanced at Olivier, standing at attention by the front door. The butler was doing his best to resemble a blank-faced statue, but they both knew he was listening.

“Langdon has granted you a place at the court?”

“He has.”

“Good.” Her mother nodded at Olivier, indicating he should precede them out the door. “Come, I’ll walk you to your new lair.”

“As you wish.”

Outside, the temperature was just above freezing, but to a woman who’d spent two decades in Iceland, it was practically balmy. Her mother, though, concealed a shiver. She must have rushed to Langdon’s lair the instant she heard Blaer had arrived.

And how had she heard so quickly?

Blaer eyed Olivier. No, the elderly butler wouldn’t risk his well-paying position to spy for Fleur. But that didn’t mean someone else in Langdon’s household wasn’t a spy. She filed that away for possible future use.

More interesting was that her mother appeared unaffected by the noon sun. She donned a pair of sunglasses but didn’t seem concerned that the skin on her face and arms was exposed. Blaer recalled a time when her mother wouldn’t have been able to face even the weak winter sunlight except at dusk or dawn.

Blaer wasn’t the only one who’d increased in power in the years she’d been away.

“You came from France?” Fleur asked.

“Paris,” Blaer confirmed, unsurprised at this evidence that her mother had had her watched.

“Such a lovely city, especially this time of year. Short days and lights everywhere. Did you pick up that dress there?” Some of the world’s top fae design houses were located in the French capital.

“I did.”

“It suits you.”

Olivier took a path through a grove of towering oaks. They followed, discussing fashion as if they’d been separated for only a few days instead of two decades.

Blaer’s new home was located on the compound’s outskirts, Langdon’s way of letting her know she was here on sufferance.

Fleur looked on as Olivier showed Blaer around. Her new lair was smaller than the tower she’d had at Sindre’s court, with just two bedrooms, a living room and a small kitchen, but it would do. She didn’t plan to remain on New Moon’s outer edges for long.

“You may decorate how you wish, of course,” the butler murmured as they returned to the living room.

Blaer glanced around. Like the prince’s lair, the walls were black Italian marble with narrow windows covered by black-out shades. The furniture was Art Nouveau, all sinuous lines and plush burn-out velvet, and the rug was a dramatic swirl of black and white. The rest of the apartment was decorated in a similar style.

“This will do.” The twins would have to sleep in the second bedroom, but Jon was often gone on assignments anyway. He was her eyes and ears in the fae world, while Krysten stayed close.

And Luc would sleep in her bed—or on the marble floor. The choice was his.

Her mother eyed her thoughtfully. Then her mouth curved. “I’ll see you at dinner. Introduce you around. They’ll be dying to see how you turned out.”

They shared their first genuine smile.

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