Page 36 of Daghel

“No more than me,” I admit with a small chuckle as I wrap the back of my neck where I swear I can still fill the prickle of ice.

The healer chuckles as she takes my wrist in her hand, her fingers finding my pulse. “I’m afraid that healing sleep is not as a gentle as our regular sleep cycles, so it is only natural that you might have had some intense dreams or felt disoriented. But you seem to be okay. Any complaints… stiffness or numbness?”

I shake my head, and she gives me a satisfied smile.

“Excellent. In that case, I will clear you for returning to your regular activities, and most especially these two.” She glances apologetically over at Daghel. “Vorn insisted that, if she was awake and sufficiently recovered, I convey the message that you are to proceed immediately to his private chambers.”

“I will get dressed,” I reply and slide off the bed despite the protests of my males.

“Oh, he didn’t mean you,” Gwen protests, but I wave it off.

“I’ve been lying down too long. I will stretch my legs a bit and provide a little bit of tangible support while Daghel speaks to the prince. Who knows—as I was also there, I might have some important input to offer.”

Daghel nods in agreement and looks over at Gwen. “Our wyva is correct. We are a unit as much as Drisk and I are gathol. She belongs at my side, as is tradition.”

The healer gives us an unconvinced look, but I pointedly ignore her as I stride to my bureau and immediately begin to pull out clothes.

“Very well,” she mumbles as she withdraws from the room. “I will let him know to expect you both.”

“Should expect all three of us if not for the ridiculous rules,”Drisk mutters in complaint several minutes later, and I look over at him with a fond smile.

“You are absolutely right. Perhaps that would be a good use of Daghel’s new standing. Gathols have been treated as pariahs long enough—and unfairly too if Linahna’s suspicions are correct. If we can find a way to spin it so that Vorn sees it as personally beneficial?—”

Drisk snorts contemptuously and drops back down onto the bed, only to stretch out one winged arm and catch me in his claws so that he may easily drag me to him and capture me against his chest.“It is of no use. The power of the gathol is a threat. The first among the gathols in earlier ages were the queens. At that time, gathol referred to the entire mated unit. Only now does it refer to the male components as if to forget the power and necessity of the female’s role. The queens led the gatholsin order to protect their clans. All gathols remember that deep within them. They will rally only for what they perceive to be a queen. And Vorn will not allow that.”

“Drisk is correct.” Daghel gives me a grim look. “As it is, he is trying to weaken the presence of the females among the gathols. He will not see any benefit of giving power to the gathols when there is such a strong ancient legacy attached. Even if it is half-forgotten. And so long as he does not directly attempt to interfere with their necessary working unit with their mates, the gathols will not rise against him. Not even for the queen.”

“Should just eat them all,”Drisk grumbles with a huff. Snarling with disgust, he climbs off the bed and stalks towardthe door.“I am going to go kill and gnaw on something before I do it to that male’s head and go down in flames and glory when the clan attacks me. Although maybe I should ifthatwill motivate the gathols to do something.”

“Not likely, so keep your own scaly hide intact,” Daghel growls after him.

Daghel’s grim words stay with me well after we leave our rookery and are trapped within Vorn’s private chambers. My impression of Vorn from our brief previous meeting hasn’t improved in the slightest. Not only does he have a small human face down on his bed as he drives his disgusting prick in and out of her ass, but the way he is looking at me, his slimy tongue sweeping over his lips to slap at his tusks, makes my skin prickle with the desire to scrub every inch of my body where his gaze falls with a metal scouring pad.

“What is the state of Glas Village?” he grunts as he adjusts his grip on the woman and drives his cock into her with a hard thrust.

Daghel’s expression gives nothing away, and I work hard to maintain my veneer of icy detachment as he inclines his head toward the prince in assent.

There is a certain satisfaction that comes from hearing the clever weave of nonsense presented as intelligence, and I’m very impressed with the fact that my mate possesses this skill and wields it expertly as he relates the conversation he overheard and the information he acquired from various individuals throughout the village. I’m actually impressed with just how much bullshit he methodically acquired just to piss off prince Vorn. And I can see that said prince is growing increasingly impatient as Daghel expressionlessly recounts the disputes in prices amongst some shopkeepers, a butcher complaining about someone stealing a link of sweetened sausages meant for the town feast, various ongoing courtships, and sundry little bits ofgossip from around the village. The prince’s expression grows darker and darker, his lip curling with disgust when Daghel informs him of a small feud between a pair of females, a human and orc who are otherwise the best of friends the rest of the year, as they try to outdo each other with their decorations and festivities planned for Gehl, the latest incident of which resulted in a mass of ice being tossed into a brewing pot of mulled wine right before the Gehl Eve party.

I bite back a smile as the prince bellows in frustration, yanking his cock out of the female as he surges to his feet. The female sags in relief and scampers out of the room without even taking the time to gather her clothes, but this seems to go unnoticed by him as he storms toward Daghel.

“This is not what I sent you there for,” he snarls. “You were to gather intel on where the factions rest that are opposed to my rule.”

“I can only report what I heard and observed,” Daghel points out blandly. “Such information never came up, and when I inquired further… well, you heard everything.”

Vorn’s jaw tightens and cracks, but then he exhales heavily and laughs humorlessly. “Gutless cowards. Of course they will hide. But I know that they are out there.” He stalks back toward his bed and pauses, his brow furrowing when he notices that the bed is empty. He growls and spins away from the bed, panting aggressively as his gaze snaps around the room for a long moment before suddenly recalling our presence. With a hard smile fixed on his face, he turns in place and grin at Daghel. “Just keep your eyes and ears open. They will slip up eventually. In the meantime, I have some things for you to oversee in the next few days.”

I listen while giving the pretense of not paying attention, committing every little detail to memory as Vorn assigns numerous tasks to my mate that will take him over various pathsacross the mountain in daily, sweeping flights. Although I don’t relish going out in the cold again, I harden my resolve, recalling Drisk’s words. It will be a cold day in the nine hells before I abandon my place at their side.

At the corner of my vision, however, I see a black shadow slipping along the walls like dripping tar. I peer at it as I watch long fingers working over the stone, sliding in an almost oily fashion, yet there is no sheen to it. It seems to gather in on itself as it flows lower down the wall, collecting and gathering into a form just behind Daghel. My brow puckers as I stare at it. It has merely stopped there on the wall as if it were a spider gathering itself up to strike. Not a drip oozes from it now—it is just a stain of a shadow that seems to take more of a form. It almost seems to bulge in a kind of optical illusion, as if reaching… reaching…I jump, startled when Vorn suddenly laughs.

“Never mind about the villages, then. They would not dare to incur the wrath of my commanders—not even the chieftains would risk their pretty heads. Leave the villages to their backward seasonal superstitions. With you leading the gathol in methodical sweeps over the mountains, we are far more likely to discover an encampment of those belonging to a faction. Your first sweep is at noon, tomorrow. Now get out of here and leave me,” he growls as his eyes search the room once more as he lewdly squeezes his cock. “I am in need of a hot, sweet cunt to wet my prick… unless you would like your female to be honored?”

It is all I can do to keep from gaping at him in disgust and disbelief. What’s more, when I look over at Daghel, I notice that the shadowy stain is gone, as if it has never been there.

“What the hell?” I whisper, and Daghel cuts me a look of warning as he pulls me to his side.

“She is not deserving of it,” Daghel says emphatically with a brief bow of his head to Vorn. I stare at him in surprise until Irealize that he assumed my comment was for Vorn. I shake my head and glance back at the wall again. Perhaps I am losing my mind. Whether that’s the case or not, however, I allow him to draw me away before I also lose control over my mouth. “We shall leave you to your rut, my lord,” he says deferentially, then pulls me quickly from the room before the prince has a chance to insist.

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