Page 39 of Ironling
“I have been searching the western forests for the right place. I believe I have found it.” That eerie gaze moved from Sorcha to Lady Aislinn. “I have written several times petitioning for an audience.”
A frown erased the shock from Lady Aislinn’s face. “I’m sorry, I…Varon’s farm was the only petition I’ve seen.”
“I have sent you numerous requests.”
“No other land grant petitions have passed my desk.”
The fae shifted infinitesimally, and though his expression didn’t change, the air around him cooled.
“I am not a liar, Lady Aislinn.”
Her frown deepened, bewilderment plain on her face. “I never said you were, only that I haven’t received your petition.”
“Then someone on your staff is keeping things from you.”
Lady Aislinn’s mouth fell open in affront. The air crackled, and Bellarand’s great head bobbed, the point of that wicked horn pointed Lady Aislinn’s way.
His beast howled, and Hakon stepped forward, angling himself between the fae and Lady Aislinn.
“I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding,” he insisted. “There’s no need to accuse Lady Aislinn or her people of wrongdoing.”
Allarion’s frigid gaze turned on Hakon, but he felt no fear. Perhaps a smarter male would, but he’d stand between far worse than Allarion and Lady Aislinn.
After a fraught moment, the fae finally nodded.
“I apologize. I am short-tempered in my haste. Being untethered as I am, my soul calls to choose a home. I have found a place that would suit Bellarand and I.”
Lady Aislinn nodded slowly and extended her right arm. “Shall we talk in private?”
“My lady…” one of the knights argued.
“You can’t protect me from a fae, even standing right next to me. So what will a few yards truly mean?” She said it so matter-of-factly, and the knight’s clear distress mirrored Hakon’s own.
His heart lodged in his throat as Allarion stepped forward.
“I would never harm a woman, especially not an innocent,” the fae hissed at the knights.
And as if in defiance, he came alongside Lady Aislinn and offered his arm. She blinked at it once before slipping her hand in the crook of his elbow, just her fingertips touching the fine black leather of his coat.
Hakon watched with all the intensity of a predator as Allarion led her a short distance away, his head bent toward her as they spoke softly.
Jealousy writhed under his skin—that the fae would touch her so easily, would presume to claim her attention.
Their words were hushed, and Hakon didn’t know if he’d be able to understand even with all his hearing—but he hated that his right ear couldn’t pick up the soft tone of her voice. They bent their heads together with their faces pointed away from the others. He hated the small intimacy, of seeing her standing so close to another male, one who was powerful and worldly andclearly of noble blood.
Everything I’m not and never will be.
The thought gnawed at him like Wülf on a bone, tearing him to pieces.
“Look away,” Orek muttered to him in orcish. “Others are starting to stare at you.”
The warning had his beast growling. He couldn’t look away, he couldn’t risk it.What if she needs me?
He heard Orek let out a long sigh.
“Are you sure?”
The question surprised him enough to finally draw his gaze away. “What?”
