Magical Lover (28 page)

A vivid image of his mother scolding them after they disappeared to go exploring flashed across his mind. He grinned. “Of course not. We never got in trouble.”

“That’s what I thought. But I did learn how he came to be in River’s Run.”

“You did? How?”

“Well, it was really Lily that learned it from Fafnir, who Jamie confided in...”

“Listening to gossip, now?”

Enar snorted. “As I was saying, his parents were killed in front of him.”

“That’s horrible!”

“It was a surprise attack. Soldiers came, killed his mother first when she went outside for water. His father helped him escape and told him to hide in the woods, but he still witnessed their deaths. He said it seemed like his father had no magic, that he’d try to fight but nothing would happen.”

“What? How could that be?”

Enar looked at him.
Titanium.

Unbidden, he saw Fafnir in a titanium cell. Titanium, the bane of Draconi. How did humans discover their poison?

“I don’t know, but it seems odd that Fafnir was in a titanium cell. Especially when combined with Jamie’s father being killed by titanium-wielding soldiers.”

“Why did the soldiers come to his house?”

“He heard them say something about ‘the boy’, who he assumed to be himself. It seems like the soldiers were after Jamie. If the rogue Draconi was working with the lord in River’s Run, then maybe they tried to get Jamie first and settled on Keara when Jamie escaped.”

“We need to report this to the Council.”

Pain slammed through his head as he heard Keara silently yelling for him. He obviously needed to repeat his lesson on yelling while mind-speaking. So much for reporting on a security threat.

He rubbed his ear—hoping that would stop her screaming.
What’s wrong?

Lily passed out and I need help setting Jamie’s leg.

Where’s Annaliese?

I thought maybe you could help me?

The Council report could wait. If Keara wanted him, he wasn’t going to complain.

“I need to go. Keara needs me. I’ll come back and find you.” He barely registered the look of surprise on Enar’s face before he disappeared in a cloud of dust, arriving in the healing room.

Keara stood in the middle of the room, facing the door, her lips turning in a grin as he appeared. Jamie lay on the bed, one arm in a splint, one leg lying at a strange angle. Thoren winced. Fortunately, he wasn’t squeamish.

“Thank the Goddess you’re here. I didn’t know what to do.”

“I’m happy to help, but Annaliese would be better at it.”

“I know, but she’s busy and I wanted you.”

“In that case, I’m all yours.”

“Would you mind picking up Lily and putting her on the other bed?” Keara pointed to the floor, where Lily sprawled, moaning.

How had he missed a moaning woman lying on the floor? Talk about embarrassing.

After he placed Lily on the bed, he walked back to Keara. “You need help setting the leg?”

“Yes, thank you. You stabilize by putting your hands here,” she pointed and Thoren wrapped his hands around Jamie’s leg, “and hold on.”

By the time the bones slid into place, a sheen of sweat covered Keara’s face. Not that he looked much better. He wiped the sweat from his eyes on the back of his sleeve as Keara placed a splint on Jamie’s leg.

Thoren watched her work, her deft fingers tying the splint together. His mate. He still needed to tell her that fact.

“What?” Keara mimicked his motion, swiping her face against the back of her sleeve.

No time like the present. Thoren opened his mouth, but the words dried up faster than a stream in a desert. Closed mouth. Tried again. Got nowhere.

One eyebrow cocked as she watched his mouth move. But her focus didn’t last long. Her gaze fled from his lips, wandering to where Lily lay behind him.

“Ah! So you decided to join the land of the waking. How do you feel?” Keara hurried to Lily’s bed.

And his perfect moment dissipated like steam in the sunlight.

“Not too good.” A small grin turned the corners of Lily’s lips. “Guess I’m not meant to be a healer, huh?”

“You were out for awhile. I was worried about you.” Keara’s hands fluttered over her friend, touching her skin, the pulse in her neck.

One minute he watched Keara with Lily and the next pain split his skull in half. Thoren clamped both hands to his ears—not that doing so would help quiet the mind-speaking—and doubled over. By the Goddess, could the Council not find a better way to call its spies? Why did they insist on calling in such a way that made Keara’s earlier shout a whisper?

His pride stung as Keara darted to his side, asking him questions he couldn’t hear over the roar in his head. What kind of a male acts like a pained sissy in front of his female?

The kind that gets a call from the Council.

But still. He tried to straighten and made it an inch. How long did the bloody deafening call have to continue? The thought had no sooner flashed through his mind when the Council’s call vanished as quickly as it came, leaving him panting for breath.

Yet another pride stinger. Keara’s frantic voice penetrated his aching brain.

“I’m fine.” If one considered having his brain shattered, fine. “The Council summoned me.”

“You don’t look fine. What’s the point of summoning like that? What if you were doing something important? You’d think—”

“I agree, but it’s the way they call. I need to find out what they want before they call again.” He doubted his brain could take two doses of that in a day.

“Will you come back?”

Thoren leaned in, pecking her cheek, wishing he had longer. Once he took care of Council business, he would tell her she belonged to him.

Hopefully she’d take the news well.

“Of course. See you in a few.”

Disappearing, he transported to the Council’s Chamber. The ceiling towered over walls carved from stone, ornamented with jeweled designs. Polished marble floors aided the hardness of the walls in rendering the atmosphere of the room cold and unyielding. Much like the eyes of the ones who sat in a half-circle facing him.

By the Goddess, he loved this chamber.

Thirteen carved, wooden chairs held thirteen males with countenances as hard as the wood cushioning their arses. A mixture of colored eyes—the bright green of Draconi and ice-cold blue of the Watchers—cut through him like knives.

They wanted to know what he discovered on his mission and he wouldn’t put it past a few to try and read his mind. Rude bastards, but he didn’t much blame them. When dealing with the safety of his people, every little memory counted. It was a game, in a way, to hide his thoughts from prying minds, so he slammed his mental shields in place.

Take that you bloody bastards
.

A couple of faces scrunched as they met his shields. Score one for the reconnaissance specialist.

But he couldn’t mask the voice that spoke in his head.

Hello, son.

Father.

Balthor sat to the left of Alviss, who sat in his normal spot smack in the middle of the semi-circle. Thoren tensed, ready for a wave of get-busy-and-find-a-mate nagging. Instead, Balthor’s eyebrows shot into his hairline as he gaped at Thoren. To top the odd reaction, Balthor marched over to Thoren, hugged him, and stuck his nose in Thoren’s neck.

Had his father lost his mind?

“You Changed.”

One eyebrow popped up as he stared at his father.

“I did.”

“Who was the female that aided you?”

Keara. A Halfling. My mate. But I’m too messed up to inform her of what she is.
“Someone I met.”

Now it was his father’s turn for the cocking eyebrow routine. Clearly, he hadn’t expected that answer.

Before his father spat a comeback, the twenty-foot tall doors swung open like they were loose on their hinges, all wobbly and light.

“We’ll talk later.”

Not if he had any say in the matter.

Enar strode through the open doors, a look of pure rage on his face. Unlike Thoren, who could cheerfully pull up a carved chair and plant his arse in this Chamber, Enar would rather lose his left testicle before coming here.

The only reason his friend even bothered with the Council was because Thoren liked it and Enar was assigned to guard Thoren. Until death do them part, so to speak.

Thoren suspected Enar’s reticence for the Council had more to do with his father than it did with the Council itself. Enar’s father won Thoren’s meanest-male-ever-met award, a towering wall of anger, most of it directed at his son.

Thoren might disagree with his own father—especially over the finding a mate saga—but at least he knew his father kept his best interests at heart. Enar’s old man couldn’t care less about his son and didn’t mind showing that attitude to the world.

With a crash that caused little bits of dust to rain down, Enar slammed the gigantic doors closed. Thoren bit back a smile.

“Instead of summoning me, why not just kill me instead? It’s bound to hurt less.” Enar stalked farther into the room, stopping beside Thoren.

“You still live, Aylasson?” Thoren’s eyes widened at the insult of calling Enar by his mother’s name as one would a female. “Thought you would be dead by now.” The man to the left of Thoren’s father grasped the arms of his chair, knuckles white, as he stared at Enar.

“It’s nice to see you too, Father. Give my regards to the demon that set you free for today’s meeting.” Enar stood feet shoulder-width apart, arms crossed.

Viktor pointed a finger at Enar. “You ungrateful whelp! I—”

“Silence!” Alviss spoke, his words echoing off the high ceiling, settling like a shroud across the assembly.

Thoren shuddered as the spell slammed into him. Alviss was the most powerful Draconi that sat on the Council. And the oldest. His white hair hung in long locks over his shoulders, his face a map of lines. He walked with a cane, from all appearances a frail, withered man. But his magic ran strong, through his veins and the veins of his only surviving child, Annaliese.

“We are gathered today to hear the reports of Thoren and Enar, not to bicker with them,” Alviss spoke quietly; even so, the words reverberated throughout the room. “Did you locate the Halfling we sent you to find?”

“Yes sir. Along with others.” None of which the Council knew about. The High Chamber of the Council might sit in close proximity to the Temple of the Goddess, but Ari refused to discuss most of the happenings of the Temple with the Council members.

Although he had been back for several days, the Council would not have known about it until Enar’s return. Both members of a spy pair were required to return in order to alert the Council.

Quizzical looks greeted his news.

“Others?” Alviss needed to loosen up that grip on the chair before he ripped off the arm.