The Shadow Queen (31 page)

“Is she all right?” Shira asked, rushing up to them.

Theran glanced over his shoulder and swore silently. With the exception of Talon, who would surely have a few things to say when he joined them at sundown, the whole damn First Circle was there, waiting for Gray and Cassidy to take the last few steps across the terrace and enter the house.

He didn’t give anyone else time to voice an opinion. As soon as Gray crossed the threshold,Theran stepped forward.

“Gray, what in the name of Hell—”

Gray snarled at him, and the glazed green eyes that stared at him held no recognition.

“It’s all right, Gray,” Cassidy said quietly, trying to slip her hand out of Gray’s grasp. “It’s all right.”

Gray tightened his grip and snarled, “Mine.”

Before Theran could respond, a sharp whistle from the back of the room caught their attention. Power and temper formed a wedge that had the rest of the men scrambling to get out of the way as Lucivar crossed the room and stopped when no one stood between him and Gray.

“Mine,” Gray snarled again.

“I don’t hear anyone challenging your claim, boyo,” Lucivar said,“but there are things that need to be done, and we’re going to take them in order. First.” He pointed to Gray’s Jewel, then his own. “Purple Dusk. Ebon-gray. I have no quarrel with you. In fact, I’m here to help. But if you start a pissing contest with me, I will rip you apart. Are we clear on that?”

Gray nodded once, sharply.

“Second, ease up on her hand before you crack a bone.”

Theran saw Gray’s hand jerk open, then close again. But not as tight.

And he noticed how intensely Cassidy watched Lucivar.

“Third,” Lucivar said, “is the Healer present?”

Since Shira was standing beside Ranon, it was obvious she was present, but she stepped forward and said, “I’m here.”

“Do you know how to make moontime brews?” Lucivar asked.

“Of course I—”

A small sound from Cassidy.

Shira pulled back. “Yes, Prince,” she said courteously. “I’m well versed in brews that can ease moontime discomfort.”

Lucivar nodded, his gold eyes fixed on Gray. “The Healer will go with Lady Cassidy up to the Lady’s suite. The Healer will make the brew and Lady Cassidy will have some private time to take care of personal needs. Vae will go with them. If there’s anything that needs our attention,Vae will let us know. We clear so far?”

Gray nodded.

“Let go, Gray,” Cassidy said. “It’s all right. I need to go with Shira now.”

Reluctance. Resistance. Theran watched Gray struggle with conflicting instincts—and knew the only reason things hadn’t turned bloody was Lucivar’s overpowering presence.

The moment Cassidy eased her hand out of Gray’s grasp, Shira hustled her out of the room, followed by Vae.

“Now,” Lucivar said to Gray. “You’re going to go outside and clear your head of the blood scent enough to have your brain working again. Then you come back in, and we’ll all work out an agreement for taking care of Cassidy during her moontime.”

“Mine!”

“She’s a Queen,” Lucivar said firmly. “She has a court. You have to share.”

Gray bared his teeth and snarled at Lucivar.

Lucivar just looked at him until Gray subsided, yielding to the dominant power.

“Even the sweetest-tempered witch turns bitchy during the first three days of her moontime,” Lucivar said. “Why should you be the only one on the receiving end of her temper? Let her court shoulder some of it. That’s part of what it means to be First Circle.”

Gray, don’t be a fool,
Theran thought.
He’s giving you a chance to back down. Take it!

“How much sharing?” Gray asked, sounding wary.

“That’s what we’re going to decide. Go on,” Lucivar added gently. “Get some air. The first time it matters always hits a man hard.”

Theran didn’t take a full breath until Gray retreated.

“Hell’s fire,” Ranon said. “What got into him?”

“His temper and his balls woke up,” Lucivar replied. “Since they woke up about ten years late, you all need to be very careful with him.”

“Gray wouldn’t hurt anyone,” Theran said.

“A week ago, I’d say you were right,” Lucivar said, giving Theran a long look. “But he’s a Warlord Prince who has staked a claim. Until Cassidy accepts him or rejects him according to Protocol, he won’t see you as a cousin when you’re in the same room with her. He’ll see you as a rival. And Grayhaven, if he believes you’re trespassing, don’t think for a moment he won’t do his damnedest to rip your throat out.”

CHAPTER 19

Ebon ASKAVI

L
ucivar walked into the sitting room at the Keep and wasn’t surprised to find Daemon there as well as Saetan. His brother’s presence wasn’t a lack of confidence in his ability to handle himself in a potentially hostile place; it was a need for firsthand assurance that he had returned home safely.

Or maybe it was Daemon’s way of letting him see that the emotional fragility had passed—or, at least, had mended enough not to be the first thing he sensed about his brother. In fact, he’d say Daemon had the contented feel of a man who had been well stroked last night—a condition he hoped to find himself in tonight if he and Marian had enough energy left after they put the little beast to bed.

There was food on the table, so he filled a plate, accepted the coffee Daemon poured for him, and said, “Young Warlord Princes are a pain in the ass.”

His father, the coldhearted bastard, laughed.

“I could have told you that,” Saetan said.

“Did Theran give you trouble?” Daemon asked.

“Not Theran. Gray.” Seeing the same narrowing of their gold eyes, Lucivar nodded. “Yeah. The one who didn’t leave boyhood behind after he was tortured. He’s making up for it now.”

“In what way?” Saetan asked.

“He staked a claim on the Queen.”

Two voices. The same disbelief swiftly followed by thoughtful consideration. He could have used some of that thoughtful consideration over the past three days.

Comfortable with the silence, Lucivar ate the first relaxed meal he’d had since he walked into the Grayhaven estate and found a situation a lot more potentially explosive than he’d anticipated.

“Gray is twenty-seven?” Saetan asked.

Lucivar nodded. “He’s a couple months older than Theran.”

“This is the first time he’s caught the scent of moon’s blood?” Daemon asked.

“Apparently. Combine that with the fact that I’m pretty sure he’s falling in love with Cassidy. . . .”

Saetan sighed. “No training, no control, no one prepared for his reaction. He and Cassidy must have been alone when he caught the scent. He could have killed one of her First Circle before anyone realized he was dangerous.”

“I arrived at the same time he was bringing her back to the house. The First Circle was there, waiting for them.”

“Talk about drawing a line,” Daemon murmured.

“I drew quite a few lines while I was there,” Lucivar said. “And I convinced Gray I would hammer his cock into the ground if he crossed any of those lines.”

“Cassidy has a court,” Saetan said.

“I know,” Lucivar replied. “Since Gray is studying the Protocol books, it wouldn’t hurt if he received a note calling his attention to the parts that deal with the proper way for a Warlord Prince to stake a claim and what is considered acceptable behavior.”

“I can do that,” Saetan said.

“Getting a note from the High Lord should impress him enough to take the studying seriously,” Lucivar said.

“Killing his rivals isn’t acceptable because it can destroy an entire community, but it isn’t unexpected behavior,” Daemon said. “If Gray is that aroused and attracted to Cassidy, maintaining self-control is going to be difficult if he’s pushed in any way.”

“I divided her,” Lucivar said. “Gray is courting Cassidy the woman. The First Circle serves Cassidy the Queen. Steward, Master of the Guard, and First Escort form the triangle around the Queen and always have access to her. The fact that two out of three are family made it easier. The only other male Gray could accept being around Cassidy in an informal way was a Warlord Prince of Shalador descent.”

“Why him?” Daemon asked.

Lucivar smiled. “Because he’s in love with the court’s Healer and isn’t interested in warming anyone else’s bed.”

“Ah.”

Lucivar set his empty plate on the table. “Maybe it would be a good idea to invite Cassidy to the Keep for dinner sometime soon, along with Theran and Gray.”

Saetan raised an eyebrow. “Theran because he’s her First Escort, and Gray because . . . ?”

“Because I think Gray would benefit in seeing how he should conduct himself. And I’m guessing right now he has questions he doesn’t really want to ask anyone back home.”

“So this is dinner and sex primer?” Daemon asked dryly.

Well, at least Daemon understood who was going to be answering most of those questions.

“All right,” Saetan said. “I’ll extend the invitation for a week from today. Will that suit both of you?”

“I’ll check with Marian,” Lucivar said.

“I’ll be back by then,” Daemon said. “So will Jaenelle.”

Lucivar let his expression ask the question.

“Visits to a couple of Provinces,” Daemon said. “Seems my presence is required to sort out some things. Jaenelle left this morning for Dea al Mon to visit Surreal, who is feeling crowded by the amount of trees in the Territory.”

“The Dea al Mon are called the Children of the Wood,” Lucivar said. “Isn’t hard to figure their Territory would have trees.”

“Isn’t hard to figure that the Dea al Mon’s idea of a city is vastly different from Surreal’s,” Saetan said.

“She doesn’t have to stay there,” Lucivar said. “She can come back to the town house in Amdarh if she’s happier living there.”

“She’s not quite ready to leave. Apparently she and Grandmammy Teele are getting along extremely well.”

It took a minute before Lucivar remembered to breathe. Grandmammy Teele, as she was called, was the matriarch of a Dea al Mon clan and had adopted Jaenelle into her family before Saetan had formally adopted Witch. She wore the role of cranky old woman because she enjoyed it, but she was a force to be reckoned with—not to mention a very skilled Black Widow. “That’s a terrifying thought.”

Saetan’s gold eyes twinkled as he said dryly, “Isn’t it?”

“Cassie.”

Cassidy sat back on her heels, looked over her shoulder, and wondered whom she was dealing with—Gray the boy, or Gray as the man he was becoming. Since she wasn’t sure, she said warily, “Yes?”

“Do you think you’ve had enough for today?”

Asking, not telling. But not a long step away from telling, and a much shorter step away from that bossy, fussy state of mind that was impossible to deal with when a Warlord Prince got stubborn.

“I’ve got one more annual to plant. Then I’ll get cleaned up and meet with the Steward for Queen’s work,” Cassidy said. Which meant she would be sitting quietly for the next several hours, an activity that didn’t make Warlord Princes as temperamental as physical activity did.

“All right,” Gray replied.

Satisfied with each other’s answers, they went back to their respective work.

Cassidy took her time planting the last annual just to stay outside a little while longer and take in how much had been done over the past three days.

Lucivar had been a lesson in how one man could shake up a court. By the time she and Shira had joined the men, Lucivar had set down rules and boundaries that everyone had agreed to. All right, to be accurate, no one had dared to argue. Even Gray, who was clearly trying to deal with a side of his nature he’d never dealt with before.

But Lucivar had done more than set boundaries. He’d knocked down boundaries the other men hadn’t been aware of building.

Ranon might have been resentful about having any man say that to him if Lucivar hadn’t turned around and done a lot of the work himself, using a combination of muscle and Craft to clear out the old flower beds with ruthless efficiency. He’d shown the others that a Warlord Prince wasn’t just a warrior—and that serving meant taking care of small things that mattered and not just the big things other people thought were important.

More than that, Lucivar had been both teacher and leash for Gray, calmly meeting Gray’s flashes of temper while demanding that Gray remain within the boundaries of Protocol when dealing with her or with her court. Three days with Lucivar had taught Gray a lot.

Maybe more than she would have wanted him to learn.

Cassidy patted the soil around the last little plant, put her tools in the basket Gray had bought for her when he and Lucivar had gone to town, then frowned as she picked up the watering can.

Empty.

Easy enough to walk over to the pump and fill the can.

She glanced over her shoulder at Gray.

Better to ask for help.

“Gray? I need to get back to the house now. Could you fill the watering can and water this last plant for me?”

“Sure, Cassie,” he replied, almost glowing with happy enthusiasm.

Was that happy, boyish enthusiasm at the core of Jared Blaed Grayhaven, or would it be lost during this maturing process of becoming the Warlord Prince he should have been?