Fireblood (Frostblood Saga #2)(75)

“No one passes but the queen,” said the older one, nervous but determined.

Heat flared from my chest outward. I walked closer to him, firmly setting my fingertip under his perfectly clean-shaven chin. He recoiled a little at my touch. He was a Fireblood, no doubt. His skin was warmer than someone without the gift. But not like mine. If I chose to, I could take out all of these guards. However, my freedom would be severely curtailed if I tried that. Persuasion with a dash of coercion was called for, not outright force.

“And if I tell you I disagree?” I asked. “Will you lay hands on me?” I pressed myself closer, letting my chest touch his. He stepped back a fraction, trapped by the door behind him.

“Of course not, my lady. Your Highness.”

“I’d hate to tell my aunt… oh, I mean, the queen… how you put these rough hands”—I grabbed one of his clenched fists and lifted it to my cheek—“on my royal person. She wouldn’t like that, would she?” I widened my eyes and blinked up at him.

His breathing stopped. Silence reigned. Finally, he let out a loud breath and stepped aside. “Keep your visit short.” Mottled red had crept over his neck. Whether the blush was caused by desire or embarrassment or anger that I’d outmaneuvered him, I didn’t know and it didn’t matter. I’d won. I’d have to be quick, though. They might rush off to alert the queen.

He unlocked the door and I swept through, shutting it behind me.

Before I could speak, Arcus said, “Don’t bother.”

I leaned against the door, gathering my courage. After all the shocks he’d just endured, he was bound to take some of it out on me. “Oh, you’d like me to leave, then?”

“Say what you have to say and then leave. I have no wish to see you or your pretty husband.”

So, this was how it was going to be. I looked at the ceiling, as if I might find a fresh supply of patience up there. “He’s not my husband. I can explain—”

“‘To be,’ then. It’s not worth debating. Or have you missed that? Someone to argue with?”

My teeth ground together. If he didn’t want to listen to my explanations, so be it. “There are plenty of argumentative people here.”

“Well, if you haven’t come to argue, you’ve come to the wrong place.”

I exhaled and looked closely at him for the first time since entering the room. He sat with his face turned away, but even the sight of his familiar profile made me dizzy with conflicting emotions: longing, pleasure, worry, guilt. “Do you think it’s that easy to drive me away?”

“Nothing with you is easy. Ever.”

Determined not to be drawn into the blowup he seemed to want, I glanced around the room. It was a good size, with all the trappings of a guest chamber: sturdy carved bed, two wingback chairs next to the window, tapestries and a worn but fine rug, a large stone fireplace with an empty grate, a heavy wardrobe and nightstand and dressing table. All in all, the queen had been generous in her choice of room. But the door was plated with steel, the window had bars over it, and I suspected the chimney was similarly barred inside. It was a fancy cell.

Arcus sat in one of the chairs, his face turned resolutely to the window. I moved forward and sat gingerly in the empty wingback. The familiar aura of cold that always surrounded him embraced me, and it was painfully sweet. It’s so good to see your face, I wanted to say. I’ve missed you so much. I wanted to wrap my arms around him and beg him to wrap his arms around me and bask in the comfort and safety of his presence. My stomach clenched as I noticed that the cuts on his cheek had bled a little. I wanted to press a cloth to them and put salve on them and tell him I was sorry for the queen’s abuse. But it was very clear he wouldn’t allow me to do or say any of that. The tension in his body, from the cord standing out in his neck to the brutal set of his jaw, screamed rejection.

He spared me a glance, emanating hostility.

I swallowed, trying not to let hurt overwhelm me. After all, I knew exactly why he was angry.

“You saw the announcement,” I said.

His chest rose and fell a few times before he said, deadpan, “Felicitations.”

“Arcus, please. The engagement isn’t—”

“If I’d had any worry until that moment that you were being held against your will, that kiss put my mind at ease. What a relief.” The sarcasm was biting.

I took a steadying breath. “You said the message implied I was in danger?”

“As I said, I was foolish. One guess who was behind that letter.” He kept his face turned to the window.

“You think Kai forged it?” I’d thought of that possibility, but I couldn’t figure out a motive. “I’ll find out, I promise you.”

“What does it matter now? I must give him credit. Not only did he lure you here, he fooled me, too.”

No, I couldn’t believe Kai would do this. Even more stunning was the fact that Arcus had dropped everything for my sake. “I can’t believe you came. To leave your court, your responsibilities, and travel all this way—”

“Really?” His brows drew together. “You don’t think I’d care if you were in danger?”

“Of course I know you’d care. But you didn’t have to come yourself. You could have sent someone to check on me.”