Page 7 of Captivated
Chapter Three
Gwen
Like Shara, I despised the ostentatious ballroom the former queen of New York City had used to conduct her business. I hated gold-leaf anything, and massive chambers of cold marble and soaring ceilings hand-painted to look like the Sistine Chapel had one use only.
Intimidation.
Thank the goddess, House Isador didn’t care to use such tactics. Shara had used a very comfortable study for her sibling interviews, and so would I. Though I had one problem to address.
The last place I wanted to be when my Blood arrived was on the one hundredth floor.
Until I shared blood with Lance, or at least physically touched him as he came through the protective barrier, he wouldn’t be able to cross into Shara’s blood circle. Since her phone call, I’d paced and stewed for hours, running scenarios through my head. My vivid imagination all too easily saw Lance and whoever else he’d brought with him standing on the sidewalk outside, smiling with joy…
Only to be cut down from behind by Arthur.
He had to be here. Somewhere. He wouldn’t rest until Lance was dead. He’d lie in wait like a poisonous spider, waiting to strike. I couldn’t leave my approaching Blood standing outside unprotected for very long.
Finally, I decided to hold court in the lobby downstairs. It’d been open to the public in House Skye’s days, but Shara had eliminated all non-Aima people inside the tower. So there really wasn’t any reason I couldn’t sit out in the open area and meet the last few potential siblings. The chairs were actually rather comfortable, and since the building wasn’t open to the public any longer, the lobby was as quiet as the study upstairs. Plus, I could stare out the plate-glass windows and watch for my Blood’s arrival.
My stomach knotted with anticipation. Hunger. Desire. Terror. All tangled up and simmering with tension. Lance was an hour away. Maybe less. I could almost feel the ground trembling beneath his feet as he rushed toward me. But the closer he got, the tighter the noose around our necks. The only sure place Arthur could find my knight—would be at my side.
The young interim consiliarius, Kevin Bloom, cleared his throat to politely draw my attention from the windows. I liked his cheerful personality and his attention to detail, but Shara and her primary consiliarius weren’t sure how far we could trust him yet. They’d left an assistant with us to help out, though I was sure she was primarily to keep an eye on Kevin and report any difficulties or issues to our queen if she had any doubts of his trustworthiness.
“Who’s next?” I asked, keeping my voice even despite the nerves tumbling inside me.
“Gawain Gwyar of House Igerna.”
I froze, fighting to keep my face smooth and calm. Gawain. Could it be?
I watched the man approaching me and I couldn’t deny the surge in my power. Something inside me recognized him. But how could one of my Blood have been so close to me this entire time and I’d never noticed?
He was dressed in a modern gray suit. The jacket molded to his broad shoulders perfectly. He towered a foot over Kevin, certainly built like a knight of old, though his face was hard, as if he’d been chiseled from granite.
Kevin gestured at the chair opposite me. As Gawain started to sit, he hesitated, turning his head to look at me. His eyes flared. I watched as his face transformed from wary politeness to shock to a sudden blast of joy. Brilliant blue eyes locked on my face and he stiffened, jerking around to face me.
“My queen? Is it really you?”
The pulse of magic was undeniable. I definitely recognized him. But…
It didn’t feel right. I couldn’t explain it. Gawain had been one of Lance’s closest friends and certainly one of Arthur’s best knights. Guinevere had loved him dearly. After Lance, there were several Blood that I would be ecstatic to call, including Gawain, though my alpha was the crucial piece to our curse.
He took a step toward me, but I lifted my hand. He immediately stopped, which I took as a mark in his favor. “Sit, please. I have some questions for you.”
He did as I asked, though he sat on the very edge of the chair, his body tense. He leaned toward me as much as possible. His shoulders quivered, and he gripped the arms of the chair fiercely, as if fighting to keep himself in position. “Ask me anything, my queen.”
“How long have you been in the tower?”
“Since the first of the year. My house sent me as tribute to Skye.”
Only a few weeks, then, but still, the thought of one of my Blood being so close, and I’d never felt or sensed him…
Even if it’d been Elaine’s geas, surely I would have felt him as soon as Shara’s bond took over. Yet he’d been nearby for several days and I hadn’t felt him in the slightest.
“I had no idea,” he whispered, his eyes stricken with guilt. “Forgive me, my queen. I would have come to you immediately. Why couldn’t I feel you?”
I made myself relax back against the chair and smile, even though wariness coiled in my stomach, ready to strike. “A geas was put on me centuries ago. I wasn’t allowed to call any Blood until recently.”
“The Isador queen broke the geas?”
