Page 216 of Royal Rebel

Longing burned in her heart, but she couldn’t find her voice. She couldn’t tell himnowhen every part of her soul screamedyes.

I love you, Desfan Cassian.

Shouting broke out in the bedroom. Desfan lurched to his feet, angling his body so he was between her and the open door. Peeking around him, Imara stared as Skyer returned to the sitting room. Blood was spattered across his shirt, and he clutched a bloody knife. He met Imara’s gaze.

“You are avenged,” he said.

Karim stormed out of the bedroom, fury twisting his face. “You had no right to kill him. He was not your prisoner.”

Skyer faced Karim. “He attempted to kill my future wife. That gives me every right.”

Karim’s fists clenched at his sides. “He was subdued—he was no longer a threat. You didn’t avenge anyone, you just committed murder.”

Imara’s breath caught at the dark shadow that entered Skyer’s eyes. “You dare speak to me in this manner? I am the leader of my clan, and I am a future prince of Zennor.”

“That may be,” Karim said firmly. “But this is Mortise. You are not above our laws.”

Skyer’s brows slammed down.

Desfan glanced over his shoulder at Imara, and something in her expression must have conveyed her alarm, because he exhaled slowly. His voice was deceptively measured when he turned to Skyer. “We will discuss this later.”

Karim glared. “We needed to question Jekem.”

“He told me nothing of consequence,” Skyer said. “He was working alone. There are others who believe as he does, but he did not know any names. He did not deserve to draw another breath—not when he would have stolen all of Imara’s.”

Karim’s mouth twitched, but he didn’t offer a retort.

Skyer tipped his head, just slightly. “I thank you, Karim Safar, for assisting me tonight by saving my bride.” He turned to Desfan, though Imara noticed there was no respectful nod this time. “I thank you as well, Serjan. Though I am curious what brought you to my betrothed’s room so quickly, so late in the night.”

The innuendo was clear. Imara’s face heated.

The muscles in Desfan’s back tensed beneath his shirt. “I had business in the city,” he said stiffly. “Serai Krayt was staying with Imara, so Karim and I came to fetch her. That is all.”

“Good,” Skyer said. “Now, I ask that another room be prepared for Imara, since this one is drenched in blood. While it is prepared, Imara will come with me.” His dark eyes settled on her, and she fought a shiver. “We have matters to discuss.”

Imara sat in Skyer’s sitting room, which was smaller and more masculine than hers. She held her cane, since Desfan had retrieved it for her. His fingers had brushed hers as she’d taken it, and one look at his face assured her that he had no intention of letting her go with Skyer.

She didn’t give him a choice. “Will you personally see to the arrangements for my new room?”

Desfan’s expression had tightened. “Very well,” he said. Then, attention sliding to Skyer, he added, “It will be ready soon. I’ll come get her as soon as it is.”

It was a warning. One Skyer noted, if the hardening of his jaw was any indication.

Imara had walked beside Skyer to his rooms, neither of them saying a word as her cane tapped against the stone floor. Four guards trailed them—two for each of them. Kaz looked uneasy when they finally reached Skyer’s suite. Imara sent him a small, reassuring smile, even as Skyer closed the door on their guards.

“Sit.”

She followed his order, mostly because her limbs were shaking.

A servant had left one lamp glowing, but Skyer moved to light another.

Imara clutched the top of her cane. “How did you know I was attacked?” she asked.

Skyer didn’t turn as he lit the lamp before him. “I stationed one of my men to watch your door. When you screamed, he allowed your guards to eliminate the threat while he came to alert me.”

She noted his clothing; what he’d worn at dinner, not nightclothes. “You weren’t sleeping?”

“No.” He didn’t expound. Light flared, and he turned to face her. His face was shadowed. “You lied to me.”

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