Page 41 of Courting the Fae Captain
It took every effort not to keep glancing at the giant four-poster bed taking up residence against the wall … or the male who was currently shirtless as he rested against the headboard and rotated his shoulder.
“You’d never know you were even injured,” I remarked at the unmarred skin. All I could see was muscle and plenty of it.
He watched me like a cat hunting a mouse as he reclined, the very picture of laziness. “I hate to say it, but Portia knows how to use her hands. I owe her my life.”
My eyes whipped to a stack of books, away from the amused smirk he gave me. Oh, we wereteasingnow, were we? “You are such an ass.”
I flicked my eyes back to see his grin widen. “Is that a hint of jealousy?”
“It’s a hint to be cautious around females who might stab you in the back if it serves them. Or maybe you wouldn’t mind another injury for Portia to use her hands on you again,” Ireplied, putting my hands on my hips.But there was no malice in my words or his. It felt more like … playful.
When had we gone from begrudging allies to flirting with each other? When had I let my guard down enough to play in the first place? Since our shadow magic had erupted? Or had there been a connection all along and I’d just been too stubborn and too scared to recognise it? I’d always thought he was handsome, but it wasn’t just that. There was something … else. Something I felt it even more strongly now.
“You’re cute when you’re jealous,” he said, leaning forward to gingerly get out of the bed.
I threw him an exasperated look before pacing around the room. More books lay in stacks across a lacquered oak desk, along with piles of missives and maps. A miniature board of the continent sat beside them, with little wooden pieces in red and white scattered across the various depictions of Fae courts.I lifted a piece and tilted it in my hand.
“I’ve heard power is shifting amongst the courts.”
Raithe came up behind me, standing close. Very close. I didn’t know when we arrived at this level of familiarity, but I wasn’t about to reject it. His form was solid and warm against my back. It was comforting.
“Will there be a war?” I asked.
He took my hand gently and turned it over to take the piece I’d picked up. My skin tickled slightly at his touch. “There is always war among our kind. It’s in our blood. Spell Weavers, Soul Speakers, Blood Mages and Bone Cleavers … our gods are giving, but they are not benevolent. Ryvia sees to that when she offers our ascension.” He placed the red piece in the Shadow Court and sighed. “We are fighting a losing battle. The Soul Court remains neutral, but there are whispers of the Blood Court allying with the Bone Court. Too many seats of power have notchanged for an age. I fear Ryvia grows restless, and blood will once again wash over these shores.”
“It already is,” I said bitterly. “If I live long enough to see it, I fear the future doesn’t bode well. For any of us.”
“Don’t say that,” Raithe said quickly, firmly, as he turned me around to face him. “Do not make space for doubt. Do not make space for the things that do not serve you.”
I swallowed at the sincerity in his eyes. The way that earnest expression set my skin on fire and sent something fluttering in my stomach. The threat of war on top of everything else admittedly worried me. It made me want to seek out comfort and safety. Maybe I could let myself feel, as Sherai had not so subtly suggested. I could make space for new things. After what had happened the other day between us, my body was all but begging for it. Instead, I turned away and asked about the book he’d taken from the archives a month ago now. “Have you learnt anything in that book about the Rite?”
He dropped his hands and moved towards the old tome sitting in pride of place on a small table. Something like disappointment flashed in his eyes as he did, and I instantly felt the cold as he departed. I wrapped my arms around myself as I continued staring at the board, then found myself draped in a blanket not a few seconds later. Raithe lit a fire in the grate, then sat down at the table without comment, but the kind gesture warmed me. He patted the chair beside his. I walked over and took it gratefully, stretching out my toes towards the growing flames.
“From what I read, the tests always come in sets of three, though the length of the Rite itself has varied over the many years. What I can say with confidence is that the last one will be more of a spectacle. The Pentad—sometimes even other dignitaries—will all be watching.” He slammed the book shut with disgust. “I am expected to be among them, watching theladies of court slaughter each other for the honour of taking my hand.”
My lips twisted. “We could just revolt. Chuck the Pentad in the arena instead and watch them turn on each other.”
“Beautiful and deadly.” Raithe leaned back in his chair. “We make quite a team.” There was something in his tone I couldn’t quite detect. A question, perhaps. Behind the slow curve of his lips, there was something genuine in that statement—in both of them.
“If circumstances were different,” I said slowly. “If your mother wasn’t being held as collateral, what would you do?”
He considered my question for a long minute. His voice was low and husky as he answered, “I would fight. I would find a way to take them down. If I hadn’t been away in the navy for so many years, I would have tried to do so already. But once the Pentad is finished, I would ensure the Rite could never return.”
“Even if it meant killing your father?” The question was soft, though my words were firm. This was dangerous territory, to be flirting with death in such a way. But I needed to know the lengths he was willing to go to serve justice. To see if the future and the court he was talking about was one I wanted any part in.
Raithe’s face darkened. “He made his bed. I decided a long time ago that he would lie in it. Under his rule, the Shadow Court has been dying a slow death. Selfishness and archaic ritual keep us from moving forward. I would see it restored to the glory it once had. A place where both sexes are awarded equal opportunity and power. A place I can feel honoured to protect and serve. Not just as a captain or a lord, but a male. Just a regular, everyday male.”
I laughed softly. “You are anything but regular, Raithe Windaire.”
He regarded me for a long while after that, his blue eyes penetrating mine. The look he gave me … I nearly shiveredunder the intensity of it. Not from fear but something else entirely.
“If circumstances were different,” he repeated carefully, “if you could rebel against the Rite instead of being a victim of it, what would you do?”
I rose from my seat and walked to stand before the fire, staring into its crackling depths. “I would encourage the females to rise up. I would enlist a certain captain to help me. I would help those lost females and set them free. And I would kill the Pentad, one way or another.”
Warm arms wrapped around my midriff. My stomach fluttered again at the touch. “And after that?” he whispered in my ear, like a soft caress from a curling shadow.
I sucked in a breath. “I … I don’t know.” I smiled softly as he turned me and tilted my chin with that plume of shadow. “Someone recently ordered me to live. I suppose that would be a good start.”
