Chosen One (Forever Evermore #6)(111)
A deep grunt, “Fucking shit!”
And…I blinked…rubbing my eyes…seeing King Zeller—oh, no—hit the privacy spelled far wall, plaster and paint fall down around him as he tumbled to the couch with a groan. I quickly grabbed Cain’s arm, yanking on it, since he was still sending his power, muttering hurriedly, “Stop! It’s King Zeller!”
No longer strangled inside my hold, he shook his rumpled curls out of his face, eyes glowing in fury, peering off to the side, and instantly dropped his arm, relinquishing his powered hold on the King who was trying to get up, his fangs extended in fury, face…beautifully sharpened…but with that much-aged magic against him…well, it had to hurt like a son of a bitch, not to mention, it sounded as if Cain had broken bones.
An arm waving in my peripheral caught my attention, and my head darted that way around Cain, but Elder Farrar stated loudly, and clearly, “Don’t attack. It’s only me.” I stared wide-eyed even as Cain jerked the blanket over us even further; apparently, making sure everything was covered now that the threat was gone, even as Elder Farrar waved an irritated arm at King Zeller, muttering, “I told you not to do that. One day you will listen to me, dammit.” He started marching toward him. “Now, I’m going to have to fix your ribs, and no one’s here to offset the pain.”
King Zeller was standing now, but shaking his head hard. “Jesus,” more head shaking, fangs still extended, “Christ.”
“Yes, yes,” Elder Farrar mumbled, hands glowing over King Zeller’s ribs. “Just be happy he wasn’t trying to kill you since he wasn’t sure who you were.”
Cain tucked my head down against his chest, holding it there so all I could see was his olive skin, soft black curls tickling my cheek…even as he tucked the blanket around my damn head, burying me under him and the blanket, barking gruffly, clearly pissed, “What the fuck, Farrar?”
“Just a moment.” Elder Farrar’s voice sounded, since I couldn’t see a damn thing, Cain’s hold on me unbreakable under him. “I’ve got to fix,” bones cracking sounded harshly, “my goddamn, pain in the ass son-in-law,” more cracking with a deep grunt, “since he doesn’t listen to older and wiser reason.”
I stopped trying to move out from under Cain at that bit of knowledge…realizing he meant Queen Ruckler and King Zeller were married. “Huh.”
Elder Farrar snorted. “Please, Ms. Jules, as if you didn’t wonder. You were romantically involved with their daughter for close to a year, and you figured out who her parents are.”
Cain froze over me this time until he peeked under the cover, pulling my head back a bit, asking gruffly, “Isa was the woman you were in a committed relationship with?”
“Yeah,” and, apparently, Cain did, in fact—not assuming, know of the dynamics of the current Rulers, not to mention, remembered my explanations from years past, “A few years ago.”
He stared for a long moment, an unreadable expression on his face, then grunted, tucking me against his chest, stuffing the sheet back over my head, to once again bark hostilely, “Now, what the hell?”
King Zeller—also, sounding pissed—stated gruffly, “I arrived here first from the hospital. Found Elder Farrar snoozing outside the door, came inside, and found you two as you are. I improvised, and intercepted everyone at the front door of the hotel, and took them to lunch explaining Ms. Jules was sleeping and we shouldn’t wake her. I left early—they’ll be up here any minute—to make sure you were awake by now, which you were not, and against Elder Farrar’s,” a quiet growl, “advice I tried to wake Ms. Jules.” It sounded as if he was moving away. “And now that I have,” another growl, “I’m leaving since no damn good deed goes without fucking pain somehow.” A pause. “And take the privacy spell down. It’s too obvious.” The door opened, and slammed shut.
“Dammit, Farrar,” Cain growled, and I felt him leaning, fumbling for something, crushing my face against his chest more, pushing my head back into the pillow, he paused, then the sound of plastic slamming on wood. “You got here two and half hours ago with her.”
Elder Farrar’s voice was snippy and irritated. “I wasn’t the only one to fall asleep. I told you both you had an hour.” A popping sound. “Not to mention, you got a warm body and damn bed while I got a cold breeze and a hard floor.” I heard odd sounds, and felt the touch of Mage magic, mystical dreams sizzling softly through the air. “And even though I knew you wouldn’t appreciate being woken, I didn’t expect you to hurt Ezra. I expect you to apologize to him for breaking five of his ribs, and then properly thank him for saving both your asses.” The magic stopped, and I heard him stomping across the room muttering curses under his breath. “He may be my headstrong son-in-law, but he is still my daughter’s husband, whom she loves dearly,” the door opened, “so make it fucking right.” It slammed shut.
“Jesus,” Cain muttered after a moment, then leaned back pulling the blanket from my head…and glared down at me. “I told you to wake me in ten minutes.”
Um… “Sorry?” When he only glared further, I decided to scowl right back. “I just fell asleep, dammit. I’m sorry, alright?” I thumped his chest once, and feeling a little guilty, I properly turned fault on him. “And you were suffocating me under there. They couldn’t see anything with your body on top of mine. And yet, you damn near mummified me.”