Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 85203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85203 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
“Burrs.” Xaren holds out his hand. In the flat of his large palm, I see several round burrs with long, sharp thorns growing out of them.
I stare at them. No wonder Mirabella went mad! I would have too with those things digging into my back. The groom must have placed them and then slapped her to get her going, knowing they’d dig into her even more with my weight riding up and down on her back. The faster she went, the more it must have hurt. Poor Mirabella—none of this was her fault.
“Those look nasty,” I say, daring to touch one. “Ouch!” I pull back my hand—my fingertip is bloody.
“Here.” Xaren takes me by the wrist and leans down. Before I can speak, he sucks my fingertip into his mouth. I feel the wet warmth of his tongue as he bathes my wounded flesh and then a tingling sensation. Then he releases me.
“What…why…?” I can’t get the questions out. I still feel shocked by the feeling of his mouth on me.
“I’m your husband. Well—one of your husbands,” he says dryly. “Which means my Drake will help me heal you when you’re wounded.”
I look down at my fingertip and—sure enough—the tiny wound is healed.
“I…didn’t know Drakes could do that,” I say, rather breathlessly.
“They can do a great deal more than just fly and breathe fire,” Xaren informs me. “Now tell me exactly what groom did this and why. Because I don’t think these got under your mount’s saddle by accident.” He motions with the wicked-looking burrs and then tosses them away.
I tell him of the cryptic “message” Grims gave me before sending Mirabella off like a mad thing, but then he frowns.
“What do you think he meant? What did you see that you shouldn’t have?”
I feel my cheeks getting hot with a blush. Oh Goddess of Mercy, I can’t tell him what I saw! I can’t.
But it’s clear that Xaren is waiting for an answer.
“Well?” He raises his eyebrows. “Tell me what you saw, Elaina.”
His use of my name instead of calling me “little dove” lets me know he’s serious. Goddess, I suppose I’ll have to tell him.
“The other day, when I was here at the stables,” I say carefully. “I had just finished my ride and then I heard some…some strange sounds. Like grunting and…and slapping. I…” my cheeks are so hot I’m certain they’ll set my hair afire at any moment.
“Go on.” Xaren makes a one-handed gesture. “So what did you see?”
“I, er, went to investigate and I saw Henri and…and the Crown Prince,” I get out at last. “They were…they were…” But I can’t finish.
“Ah. You saw Dorian taking it up the ass, did you?” He gives a mirthless chuckle.
“Yes! If…if that’s what it’s called.” It seems to me that his words are crude but accurate.
“Among other things,” he says dryly. “So they saw you watching them and got upset.”
“I never would have said anything!” I exclaimed. “I didn’t say anything. But somehow word got back to the Queen. That’s why…why she sent me to you last night,” I add in a low voice. Goddess, now I truly am embarrassed.
Xaren doesn’t seem surprised.
“Yes, my mother has spies everywhere,” he remarks. “I could have told her that Dorian wouldn’t bed you. But she never listens to me.”
“You won’t either. Bed me, I mean,” I say, though I have no idea what makes those words come out of my mouth. Maybe my fear for the future—the time that is coming when I cannot escape the Queen finding out I’m not pregnant.
Xaren’s eyes narrow and he stares down at me.
“I think we’ve already established that you don’t really want me to bed you, little dove,” he growls.
I feel suddenly flustered and have to look away, my cheeks hot as coals.
“That’s what I thought,” Xaren growls. “Now come on—we’re going to find that groom who put burrs under your mount’s saddle and get to the bottom of this.” He hands me Mirabella’s reigns. “She’s quite calm now—can you mount?”
“Not…not without a mounting block,” I admit.
“Very well. Hold the reigns.” He puts big hands around my waist and lifts me up to my horse’s saddle. I give a little gasp—he’s acting like I weigh no more than a feather pillow!
A moment later I’m securely mounted. When he’s sure I’m safe, Xaren swings easily up onto his own mount and urges the big black stallion into a canter.
I do the same, clicking my tongue and tapping my heels at Mirabella’s sides. Now that she has no burrs under her saddle, she’s once more docile as a lamb. She goes when I ask her to, her pace extra steady and smooth, as though she’s trying to make up for the wild ride she took me on earlier.
But when we get back to the stables, Grims is gone. And when Xaren demands to speak to the Stable Master, the man swears with a straight face that there’s never been a groom with that name. I try describing him—lank blonde hair, thin face—but he denies ever having hired a man by that description.