Page 11 of Courting the Tiger King

“He is no king of mine.”

Sensing they stood on a precipice that could implode at any second, Wren decided to change the subject. “Close the door, would you, Skye?” He sat down in the armchair that faced the sofa where Sonnet and Gabe had been laughing only moments ago. “My mate is here,” he said quietly, as soon as the door shut.

“You seem surprised,” Sonnet remarked, settling back down onto the sofa at a less than demure distance from Gabe. “Was that not the point of the ceremony?”

Wren ignored her sarcasm as he cast his eyes over the room. It was plain, compared to his anyway, but likely better than any bed she’d have slept in for a long time. Unlike the suites reserved for high ranking company, Sonnet’s room was a parlour and bedroom all in one. A hearth sat opposite the bed, with the sofa, two armchairs and a small ovular table surrounding it. It was clean, comfortable, and warm. It seemed unlikely that they were qualities Sonnet had found much time for while in hiding for her survival.

“Yes,” he allowed, and said nothing more on his nerves. Not while Sonnet was there, anyway. “I have a proposition for you,” he said, the idea forming slowly as his gaze came back around to the witch’s. Skye had lowered himself into the armchair opposite Wren but his eyes didn’t stray from Sonnet’s, as if he expected her to pounce at any moment. “You must be tired of running all the time.”

Suspicion made the witch’s nostrils flare, but Skye had caught on far quicker to Wren’s intentions and was now glaring at the king. “No. Absolutely not.”

Wren ignored Skye’s protests. He could say what he wanted, but this was still Wren’s palace, his kingdom, and unless Skye was willing to fight his oldest friend it would stay that way.

“What are you saying?”

He smiled at Sonnet. “I want you to help me find a way to break this curse on my bloodline. Permanently.”

The witch’s eyes gleamed. She was interested. Good. “And in return?”

Wren shrugged, leaning back casually and crossing one leg over the other as he spread his arms across the back of the chair. “Safety. You may stay as long as you wish and, for so long as you remain, no harm will be allowed to befall you.”

“Wren—”

“What if I can’t find a way to break it?”

“Wren—”

“Well, let’s cross that bridge if we come to it.”

Sonnet grinned and stood, shaking his hand firmly. “I accept.”

“No! Wren, I cannot allow this.” Skye had stood when Sonnet had and Wren looked up at his friend calmly. “Her magic… It is dangerous. Unnatural. I will help you break this curse, I swear it, but?—”

“Excellent,” he said smoothly. “You can work on it together.” Now they both looked horrified, mouths dropped open in protest even as no words escaped their lips. “We have bigger problems than magical bickering and, frankly,youdo not allow anything, friend.”

Dominance. His beast would accept nothing less.

For a moment, they watched each other, eyes held, until Skye nodded. “As you wish.”

Only then did Wren stand. “Good. Now, I think it’s past time that I meet my mate.”

CHAPTER SIX

NEAH

Walking through the palace was strange. The flurry of activity in the corridors was the same as it always had been and already she could hear the gossip stirring about her presence. Though, interestingly enough, many of the gossipers had no clue who Neah was and instead ruminated on her mysterious identity—she’d been gone for too long. While it was true that she’d changed a lot since she last spent time in the palace, now more woman than girl, it felt odd to have been so thoroughly erased from the minds of the court.

At least it made it easier to waltz through the halls without interruption.

Neah was debating whether to attempt to find Zennon or her father first when she spotted the familiar garb of the king’s guard. The silver-grey of their shirt, emblazoned with a crown and a moon, was unmistakable and Neah pivoted to approach.

The windows that ran intermittently on one side of the palace’s walls made her nervous, the light catching on the deep blonde strands of her hair and highlighting it in gold and red, a constant reminder of how open the space was as she moved. From a security standpoint, the windows were trouble. Easy toscale, or blast open, though the stained glass effect was rather pretty.

“Excuse me.” Neah pitched her voice low and the guard looked up at her in surprise before interest flared in his long-lashed brown eyes. “I’m?—”

“Oh, I know exactly who you are, Lady,” he said, surprising her even as relief made her throat tighten momentarily. She hadn’t beencompletelyforgotten, then. “Please accept my apologies that I couldn’t be there myself to escort you this morning.”

She raised her brows but accepted his apology with a smile. “Not at all. I was perfectly safe.”

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