Page 50 of A Bride for the Winter King
The Inn’s tavern is still loud and cheerful as I wrap myself in shadows, and I make my way down the hallway, pressing my ear to each of the doors to find Seth’s bedroom. Heated moans blaring from behind the first door around the corner clue me in that Seth is indeed not alone, and I knock on the wood with a wry grin.
The moans stop abruptly, and a storm of curses echoes inside the prince’s bedroom.
“Are you really going to open the door?” a familiar voice asks, and I arch a brow.
Poppy? Really?
She probably figured she’d be out of the competition because of Elio’s attempt to disqualify all the Spring seeds, and I don’t blame her for making the most of the experience.
“It could be important,” Seth answers, not sounding half as sorry as he should. “Just be patient.”
If I was the woman in bed with him, I’d be tempted to slap his princely face.
The Fae cracks open the door, naked, and I catch a glimpse of Poppy holding the covers to her chest on the bed. The brunettelooks absolutely scandalized, but I don’t allow her to see me and engulf Seth in my shadows instead.
“Hey, partner,” I press my lips together to hide my big, goofy smile.
I can’t believe his lure affected me so much when we first met. He’s just a man, and his lust magic pales in comparison to Elio’s life-shattering thrall. Still, the naked storm prince is easy on the eyes.
“I need a moment, and it can’t wait,” I say in my best, all-business, corporate voice.
He rakes his hand through his dark hair and groans. “Give me a minute.”
“Just one? I thought better of you.”
He cracks a smile and doubles-back to wrap a silk black robe around his body before joining me outside his door. “Where were you? I was worried.”
“Not so worried that you came looking for me.” I raise a brow that commands him to cut the bullshit.
A sheepish pout twists his lips. “I’m sorry. Guards corralled me in here right after you ran off. There was nothing I could do without raising some serious hell and blowing your cover.”
“Well… Consider my cover blown where Elio and Sara are concerned.”
Seth’s gaze falls to the sash of my robe. “What are you wearing?”
I cross my arms over my chest and fight off the urge to roll my eyes. “You first. How is your brother mixed up in this?”
He rubs the arch of his brow. “I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone, but my youngest half-brother, Luther, is missing. He’s the most powerful and versatile storm Fae in centuries. He has both storm and shadow magic in spades, so my father didn’t want to introduce him to the other courts until it was time toenroll him in the Royal Academy. But somehow, our enemies found out, and Morrigan kidnapped him.”
My mind spins at the possible implications. “Morrigan weaved hundreds of Dreamcatcher spiders to attack the Shadow Court. Obviously, she couldn’t have done this using her magic alone. Do you think she could have used your brother’s magic?”
The hard line of his jaw spells volumes. “Maybe. Luther’s powers are immense, and I think Morrigan is working with dangerous rebels to try and steal them. I’ve heard rumblings about revolutionists—Fae and mortal alike—using illegal technology to boost their power. That’s how I ended up chatting with your brother in the first place. A mortal that confessed to carving a forbidden arrow on his own... I had to verify the story myself.”
My pulse swirls at that new tidbit of information. “Heconfessed?”
“I’m afraid so. When I read his file, it said that his sister was training as a Shadow huntress, so I connected the dots.”
“Do you trust Sarafina?” I ask point-blank, stowing all my doubts about Ayaan for later. Whatever Seth believes, I know my little fox of a brother isn’t dumb enough to admit to a crime punishable by death…
Seth frowns at that, my swift change of subject probably making me appear as unstable as I feel. “As much as I can trust a snowflake, why?”
“Put on your listening ears. I’ve got atonto tell you.”
I cradle us in shadows to prevent anyone from overhearing and catch Seth up on the situation. But I leave out the part where I had sex with the Winter King. Seems hardly relevant, now.
I getto the tent half an hour later and leave my shadow cloak at the door.
A loud, disappointed groan rises from the cots near the entrance where the reds huddle together. The Red from the carnival alerts her friends of my arrival, the women apparently taking shifts to guard the entrance of the tent.
