Dragons Against Them (Kingdoms of Fire and Ice #2)(16)

Adelaide peeked out into the space outside her room and was relieved to find no guards or servants in sight. On silent feet, she stole down the hall, around a corner, and then slipped into Zayne’s guest room. There had been no light visible under his door, but she knew he was there. How, exactly, she didn’t know. Only that she did.

Once her eyes adjusted to the dark, she found her instinct had been correct—Zayne stood across the room beside his chamber’s open window, his profile visible and gaze intent on something outside. And though he did not turn upon her entry, the flare of golden light in his eyes signaled he knew she was there. She started toward him but drew to a halt when she made it to the room’s center and he still had yet to address her.

The light in his eyes was a good thing. The ignoring her part? Not so much.

Addie wrung her hands. “Zayne, I—”

“Shhhhhh.”

Her mouth fell open. “Did you just…shush me?”

Zayne remained in place, mute, and Addie’s blood began to boil. Why was he making such a big deal out of her request to learn how to defend herself? She took a step forward.

“Look, I get that you’re worr—”

His gaze slid to hers then, those golden eyes glowing brighter still. “Shh!”

A frustrated squeak escaped her. Here she was, breaking all sorts of rules for the second time today to be with him, and he wouldn’t even let her speak? Fury rippled through her, hot and fast. Why was he being like this?

But as his focus shifted once more to the window, Addie couldn’t help but wonder if there was more going on here than she knew. Curiosity trumped her anger, and she closed the distance between them in silence. Without turning his head, Zayne pulled her gently into his chest and stroked her hair.

“That’s better,” she whispered. “So what are you—”

“Shh.”

Addie flicked him on the arm. “Enough with the shushing already!”

She tried to pull away, but Zayne’s tender grasp turned to shackles like steel. He stepped them both closer to the window, a low rumbling in his chest. The murmur of male voices reached her ears.

Her father. Tristan. Quinn.

Oh, hell. Zayne hadn’t been avoiding a conversation; he’d been listening to one. The window below must have been open tonight as well. The same window, if memory served, that belonged to the room where her father often met with his soldiers to discuss strategy. She ducked her head, embarrassed to have overreacted. “Sorry.”

His body shook with a silent chuckle, and warm lips pressed to her forehead.

“Never has a woman been so difficult to silence.”

His clean scent of cloves and spice washed over her as they stood pressed against one another, and desire wove its way into her thoughts. The breeze outside pushed clouds from a nearly full moon, bathing them in moonlight and giving the moment a fairy-tale-like feel. Like he really was her own personal Prince Charming.

“Yes, I think you’ve complained of this before.”

He flashed her a devious grin. “Of course, I do have ways to silence you, my lady, just as I have ways to make you cry out for more. Both may yet be explored this night if you first allow me to hear the secrets being shared in the room below.”

Yep, her Prince Charming, only naughtier. Addie returned his grin, then leaned toward the window casing. Tristan’s voice drifted in from the dark.

“And you think the woman you saw may have been Rosalind?”

“We cannot be certain, Your Highness, as it was growing dark and the beast flew faster than most. But her skin was fair, her locks raven black.”

“And her garb?” It was Quinn, his voice a low growl.

“She was dressed as a peasant, sire. But her hair was left loose, contrary to the tight braids worn by women in the villages nearest there.”

Disappointment washed over Addie. Skin tone and hairstyles were hardly enough to convince anyone that her half sister had been found. The tone of her father’s voice when he spoke next seemed to echo her own sentiments.

“Neither you nor your men had contact with the girl, were able to see her up close, nor heard her speak to the men who took wing with her before fleeing our lands, yet you wish me to believe it was in fact the missing princess? And why is that, exactly, Warrick?”

A pause followed, and Addie leaned forward, worried the men’s voices had become too low to hear. After a moment, however, her father’s sentry cleared his throat and answered.

“Because we recognized her scream, Your Majesty.”

“Her…scream?”

Addie clamped both hands over her mouth to smother a laugh. She’d heard rumors of Rosalind’s supposed promiscuity murmured by the castle’s staff. From the sounds of it, she took whomever she pleased to bed whenever she pleased, though it usually correlated with their father and Tristan’s frequent hunting trips. And few of Rosalind’s bedroom escapades were of the quiet variety. How on earth she hadn’t gone and gotten herself pregnant was beyond Addie.

“Aye. The dragons that carried her off flew straight for the wall but angled to squeeze through a large crevice. The girl screamed as they approached without slowing.”

“A likely response from any maiden.”

“True, sire. But your daughter’s scream is very…distinct.”

“And how is it, exactly, that you would know what my daughter’s screams sound like?”