Page 2 of Courting the Tiger King

He swallowed back the last of the drink, frowning in the darkness at the morbid turn his thoughts had taken. The glass thunked as he set it on the table, the sound loud in the quiet of the room as he stood and walked to the drapes and tugged them open until a small slither of light cut through the gloom.

His parlour space was where he did his best thinking, aside from when he was in the bath, it was also where he spent the most time with Gabe and Skye. Normally accompanied by drink and cards as they worked to clean out his coffers.

Dust motes swirled in the small beam of light, returning some warmth and brightness to the room as he turned and walked into his adjoining bedroom. A balcony waited to his left, the drapes shut to keep the sun out while he slept, but despite the security risk he often liked to sleep with the doors open, enjoying the smell of fresh air that carried the scents of the forest below up to his room. He pulled open one drape, leaving the one closest to the bed closed to keep it in shadow, and opened the door, breathing deeply and enjoying the hint of earth on the air.

The bed took up most of the room, carved wooden posts forming the vague shape of trees and birds guarding the bed below like a woodland canopy. A copper tub sat in front of the empty hearth, steam curling up from the water within and he hesitated, gaze flitting between the promise of the bed and the heat of the bath calling to him.

His simple tunic and trousers hit the ground, discarded next to his boots and the small horde of weapons he’d had hidden on his person. The need to be clean was too strong to be ignored and he slipped into the water with a groan. After the rough sleeping of the hunt, endless days spent in the underbrush of the forest and the odd tavern, the opportunity to soak in the bath was heavenly. One of his attendants had even added his favourite jasmine oil to the water and the scent had his eyes falling closed.

Water slipped over his nose and he spluttered, jerking upright and blinking the moisture out of his eyes. Fuck. He’d spent all this time trying to break the curse, only to nearly drown in his bath.

Wren dunked his head and reached for a bar of soap, lathering his hair and body and rinsing quickly in the rapidlycooling water. How long had he been asleep? He wasn’t too pruney yet so he had to assume it hadn’t been a long time.

A large towel had been placed onto the fabric seat of the wooden chair beside the hearth and he reached for it as he stood, toweling off roughly and pushing the dark fabric over his hair so the semi-long strands wouldn’t drip down his back. There was also a small pot of cream on the chair, scented similarly to his favoured jasmine, and he scooped up a portion with two fingers before working it across his face and hands. Spending so much time outside would leave him with weathered skin as thick as a bore’s hide if he wasn’t careful.

Mostly dry, he stumbled over to the bed and promptly collapsed atop the sheets face first. He was asleep before the sun finished rising.

CHAPTER TWO

WREN

Wren slept all the way through the afternoon and right into the evening, waking only when the grumble of his stomach refused to be ignored any longer.

Gabe waited for him in the parlour, a plate of food on the table in front of him that he pushed toward Wren when he stumbled into the room and blinked blearily. “As much as I love our naked dinners, maybe you’d be more comfortable with some clothes on?”

Wren glanced down and cursed before walking back into his bedroom and tugging on a loose pair of trousers that cinched with stays at the front. His hair had dried in strange, kinky waves, and he ran a hand through the mess as he sat down heavily into the chair opposite Gabe.

“Thank you,” he murmured, digging into the still-warm bread roll on his plate. “All quiet last night?”

Gabe nodded. “The witch didn’t stir and nobody disturbed us. She’s awake now, looks about as good as you feel I’d wager.”

Wren scowled. “I feel fine, prick.”

Gabe smirked and let Wren finish his meal in silence. “You going to the temple?”

Selene’s temple was where Wren would get the final ingredient for Sonnet’s spell—a blessing from the Goddess. Not easy to come by and typically only granted in dire circumstances, or in traditional ceremonies like weddings and mate bonds.

“Yes.” He would remain in worship until Selene saw fit to bless him. He couldn’t proceed with the ceremony until he received a token of the Goddess’ favour. It was one of the things that made soul magic so difficult to perform, the lunar witches had a stronger connection to the Goddess than most. It hadn’t been enough to protect them from the fear of the masses, however. “Is Skye still with Sonnet?”

Gabe nodded. “We didn’t want to leave her alone. Though she’s likely recovered enough that she can defend herself if needed.”

“I’d rather it not come to that,” he murmured and Gabe agreed with a grunt. It would only take a glance for someone to know what Sonnet is—the silver irises of all moon touched were a dead giveaway as to their heritage. “You’ll watch her while I’m at temple?”

“Of course.”

Wren pushed up and away from the table, retrieving a tunic top for his room and slipping it on, buttoning the front deftly. A decent night’s sleep and a solid breakfast-dinner had him feeling reinvigorated. He was so close to what he’d worked so tirelessly for all this time. Now he could only pray that Selene would grant him this boon.

The Goddess’ temple was outside of the palace, in a secluded part of the grounds half-shrouded by the forest. It was only fitting for the temple to be out in nature, for Selene was theGoddess of the moon and wild things. To entrap her place of worship among the court would be an affront. As it was, the only material permitted for use to build the temples was moonstone that made the structures hold a glow all of their own.

Wren had always found the Goddess’ temples to be a place of peace. The first step through the arched entry-way made his shoulders relax, cool air embracing him as he walked further inside. No lights would be found inside the temple, the glow of the stonework enough to guide the pious to their destination.

His tension slipped away the further he walked through the temple’s tunnels. If he followed the path all the way around, he knew he would end up in the main chamber of prayer where a moonstone statue of the Goddess watched over those who sought her guidance. But amid the main tunnel were several offshoots that led to hollowed out nooks with just enough room for one person to stand inside. It was one of these prayer holes that Wren sought out. For what he’d come to ask, he wanted privacy. Plus, only the Goddess should see the king kneel.

The path widened and Wren took the first offshoot he passed, the walls of the cave-like hollow closing around him in a soothing cocoon of luminous stone that made him feel as if the Goddess had wrapped him in an embrace.

Wren tended to pray at the temple several times per year. Selene was the Goddess of wild things and, as such, didn’t demand tithes or strict examples of devout dedication. Though, they did tend to celebrate the Goddess when the moon was full, or in ritual ceremonies like that of a mate blessing or wedding, as well as death rites. More often than not for him, communing with the Goddess had been for a joyous occasion and revelries, but for his task now a more formal tone seemed necessary.

His knees hit the cold ground and Wren didn’t flinch at the impact as his eyes slid closed and his chin tilted upwards. A pressure settled between his shoulder blades, the feeling notentirely comfortable, and he knew the Goddess’ attention was placed squarely on him.

---