Page 46 of Their Witch Bride

“We need to make your introductions to the king first,” she whispers.

Like hell…

Lady Scarlet, still holding my hand, steers us straight for the king, even though I have the unbelievably strong urge to walk the other way. Somehow, I wasn’t prepared to see sickness and death. Not here in a place of strong men, who I thought were immune to sickness.

Stay calm. Stay focused. Don’t let the past pull you into the darkness of your mind.

I drag my feet, but she’s strong, and gigantic compared to my much smaller frame. And before I know it, I’m standing before him. The king of the Talon Pack.

His dark eyes meet mine, and I try not to flinch as they pin me in place. He’s assessing me, so I assess him. He has black hair, like Prince Arlys, only his is weaved with more gray than black, and his hair is pulled back at his nape. His gray-black beard is short and neatly trimmed. I can almost picture him as a healthy, young shifter, and I realize that if he was, he’d look remarkably like Prince Arlys.

He places a hand on the table and another on the back of his chair and determination lights his eyes. He pushes himself up to stand so painfully slowly that I’m dying to leap forward and help him up, but I hold myself in place, committed to making a good impression.

When he comes to his full height, a hush falls over the room. He painstakingly adjusts his legs steady enough to hold his body up without the use of his hands. When he’s done, he reaches out for me, and I offer him my hand. He takes it in his, which is surprisingly both soft and calloused.

“You look so much like your mother,” he tells me, his voice loud and booming, not matching the withered, sickly body it inhabits.

I speak without thinking. “We might look alike, but we’re as different as night and day.”

He studies me. I don’t know what he’s trying to find, but I hope he does realize I’m not like any other witch he’s ever encountered–in a good way, because the only time shifters meet witches is when we’re Battle Witches trying to kill them. And me? I’m definitely not that.

“Do you have any siblings?” he asks.

“None,” I answer.

I can practically see him filing that information away. “Does your mother often talk about peace with the shifters?”

“Never. At least until this deal was struck,” I tell him honestly.

It’s hard to tell what he thinks of that. “Was your mother concerned about sending you here?”

“No,” I say, then decide to add on for good measure, “she knows I can take care of myself.”

Okay, so that’s not entirely true. She mostly just doesn’t care if I can take care of myself or not, but I’m not about to tell a shifter king that. Let them think I’m powerful. Let them assume my mother cares about me.

“You will do nothing to hurt my people while you’re on our lands,” he tells me, and his voice holds absolute certainty. The certainty of a king.

“As long as they do nothing to hurt me,” I say firmly.

To my surprise, a slight smile lifts his mouth. “You’re an honest thing, aren’t you?”

“I pride myself on being so painfully honest that people would sooner avoid my company,” I say.

“An honest witch and one with a sense of humor? Now I’ve seen everything,” he mumbles.

As I stare back at him, I can see the warrior he used to be. It’s in the intensity of his gaze. If he could, he’d still be out battling whomever stood in his way.

“Please.” He waves to a seat between him and Prince Arlys. Prince Drogo and Prince Rinan are across from us.

I don’t want to sit, but I give a weak smile and do as I’m asked.

He struggles into his seat, and I can see the exhaustion in his face from just standing and talking to me. My thoughts turn as I consider his condition. Shifters aren’t sickly from what my mother has told me. They don’t get sick at all. If there was something that could make them sick, my mother would have already used that knowledge against them. Nothing that I know of plagues them, but this elder, this king, is clearly unwell. How is that possible?

Dinner is served, and the dishes that are passed around the table all look and smell delicious. There are roasted meats and vegetables, meat pies, stews, and delicate-looking fruit tarts and pastries. I want to taste everything, so as each dish comes around, I take a small portion and put it on my plate until my plate is completely full of spoonfuls of food.

“How was the journey here?” the king asks me. He isn’t eating, just sitting and watching me.

Princes Arlys, Rinan, and Drogo all dart their eyes to me, making me feel nervous. I wonder if they think I’m going to bring up how cold and unkind they were to me or how they ignored me for the entire four-day journey. They’d deserve it if I did.

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