Claimed & Seduced (7 page)

“Do you want to try a shift here? There’s plenty of room to run and no one else uses this garden apart from us.”

Jarlath felt his feline shudder and the beginning of the shift commence. He struggled to free himself of his tunic to no avail. His feline burst from him, out of control. The fabric of his tunic ripped even as a tortured groan rushed up his throat.

Fukk
, this hurt worse than his first time. Every twist, every stretch, every pop of muscle and bone seemed louder, more painful than ever before.

He cried out and fell forward onto all fours. Panting, he tried to relax, even as his body fought to reshape. Fur rippled beneath the torn remnants of his tunic, and his trews and boots melted into his new form.

Scents and sounds battered his senses, the enrichment a shock after confinement for so long within his humanoid form. He flicked his tail and stretched, the shredded material inhibiting him. Jarlath gave a grumpy bark and attempted to wriggle free.

A chuckle sounded. “Jarlath, keep still. Let me help you.” Competent hands tugged the fabric free until nothing hampered him. “
Cristo
, I’m so glad we can run together again. I’ve missed running with you and I don’t mean that in a weird way either.”

Jarlath barked, the caterwaul impatient and demanding.

Ellard chuckled again, but set his shoulder holster aside and tugged his tunic over his head, baring a broad and muscular chest and his onyx cat pendant. He stuffed his weapon and clothes out of sight beneath a tree and removed his pendant, placing it carefully in his trews pocket.

His change was quick and efficient, Ellard’s black leopard a powerful and beautiful creature.

Jarlath yowled and Ellard barked in return. In unison, they bolted across the clear ground and burst into a copse of tall, straight trees.

The freedom, the breeze rippling across his fur exhilarated Jarlath, and he savored the pumping of his muscles and the rich world of sensory details. He’d told himself he hadn’t missed his feline. He’d told himself many others in the kingdom suffered the same fate. He’d told himself it didn’t matter.

He’d lied.

He ran and ran and ran until his sides heaved with exertion.

The scent of a small animal distracted him and he slowed to stalk the trail. A deer mouse shot from beneath a purple flowering plant. He pounced and missed. Behind him, a hoarse bark of amusement rasped from Ellard. His friend nudged his shoulder, and Jarlath heaved a sigh.

Time to return to his duty and the wretched list.

Sighing again, he retraced his steps back to where Ellard had left his clothes. Jarlath pictured his humanoid form and shifted back, chest pulsating in exhaustion yet invigorated.

“Hey, your bruising has faded. At least on your shoulder. Your eye looks much better too. Do you want to borrow my tunic in case we run into the queen?”

“A benefit of the shifting.
Grata
, I’d missed it so much!”

“The tunic?”

“No, you keep your tunic,” Jarlath said, heading in the direction of their rooms. “It will be too big for me anyway. Mother is already angry because I didn’t follow orders.”

They entered Jarlath’s rooms, sighting only a sentry and a cleaning droid on the way.

Ellard closed the door behind him. “Did the run feel good?”

“The best.
Grata
, I’ve missed this part of me. You’re lucky your feline didn’t go into slumber.”

“Yeah. I wish the scientists could discover the cause. Rumors of the problem will spread soon. Someone will talk and the Cawdor will use the knowledge to their advantage.”

“The knowledge is a ticking timepiece,” Jarlath said. “Want to have a drink?”

“Sure.”

“I have pie.” Exhilaration pushed the unguarded words from his mouth.
Grata!
Too late now.

“Pie?” Ellard smacked his lips. “Who did you sweet talk in the kitchen to give you pie? Not the little blonde kitten? The new one?”

Mentally apologizing to Keira, Jarlath nodded. “Ya got me.”

“Are you sleeping with her?”

“No, you go ahead if you’re interested.” Only one woman dominated his thoughts. She’d burrowed under his skin so damn quickly, he was still confused about how she’d managed the feat. He pressed his palm to his door, and stepped inside.

“Thanks, but I’ll pass. I have a lady in my sights.”

How had he missed that? “Yeah? She gonna let you catch her?”

Ellard winked. “Already caught her.”

“Well. We should celebrate.” Jarlath strode to his chefmate and programmed two hot toddies. He handed a steaming tankard to Ellard. “I’ll get the pie.” Secs later, he was back, and he grabbed a knife to cut a large wedge. He arched a brow at his friend. “Do you need a plate?”

“Nope,” Ellard said. “Gimme. I’m starving.” He took a huge bite, chewed and swallowed. “Damn, that’s good. Did the blonde bake it or is there a new cook in the kitchens?”

“Didn’t ask,” Jarlath said. “I took the pie and ran.” Nothing less than the truth. He took a bite and almost echoed his friend’s moan of pleasure. The tart flavor of the berries and the crisp rich pastry was better than anything he’d tasted before. With every bite he thought of Keira, the urge to visit her so strong he had to force himself not to stride from his rooms. “You better not let your girl hear you drooling about pies.”

“Not likely. What did the queen want?”

“She gave me a list of marriage candidates. Twelve names for me to check out. I’m under orders to choose one and offer marriage.” Jarlath shoved the last bite of his slice of pie into his mouth and chewed. He scratched the back of his neck then his arm. “Want more pie?”

“Are you first in line to the king?”

Jarlath pulled a face. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He handed Ellard a second piece and scratched at his biceps. “Something must have bitten me while I was out in the garden. I might go and clean up.”

“Sure, I have to report to Father. As head of security, he knew you were missing—” He held up a hand when Jarlath went to interrupt. “He knew I was worried, but he was in a meeting when I commed him. I sent a text instead, but I’d better speak with him in person.”

“I’m sorry,” Jarlath said again. The last thing he’d wanted was to get Ellard in trouble.

“You leaving the castle tonight? Schedule says you’re staying indoors.”

“I might go for a walk out in the square and check out the market.”

“Com me,” Ellard ordered. “You can’t go out alone and risk an incident.”

A scoffing sound escaped before Jarlath could censor his response. “The House of Cawdor is quiet at present, and they wouldn’t dare try anything with me. Besides, wouldn’t you rather hang with your girl? Much better than guarding me.”

“There’s nothing to stop the Cawdor from hiring a sniper to take you out.”

“They could do that anyway,” Jarlath shot back. “I refuse to hide behind the castle walls for the rest of my life. Lynx tried to make a move on a Cawdor cutie and stepped on toes. Nothing like that will happen with me because I’m not my brother. Since Lynx’s public apology, things have become peaceful.”

Jarlath reached a hand behind his back to scratch at the base of his spine.

“I don’t care. Com me if you’re going out.”

After a long pause, Jarlath gave a curt nod. “Very well.”

Left alone, Jarlath strode to his sanitizer room, and stripped off his remaining clothes. A glance in his looking glass showed the bruising around his eye had faded dramatically and…was the green of his irises lighter? Because he’d shifted again? Delight had him whistling, then once again his thoughts drifted to Keira. She was from…no, he didn’t get the traitor vibe from her. She seemed upfront and honest, and
grata
, he wanted to see her again.

Damn, he would see her again.

Somehow.

He might not manage to socialize with her in public, but surely he could meet her privately? Surely they could be friends?

* * * * *

K
eira stared into the pink-and-red flames of the fire she’d lit to ward off the wintery chill to the air. Faint curls of pink smoke drifted up the chimney. Outside an unexpected storm battered her home and set the forest trees rustling. Something about the savageness of the storm prickled her skin. She jumped to her feet, her jittery nerves urging her to action.

“Keira.”

Keira froze, her hand on the back of a chair as the voice from her nightmares whispered through her sitting room. She spun around, her gaze darting past gel-chairs and other furniture to search all four corners. There was no one present except her. This storm had set her on edge, fueling her imagination.

Razvan wasn’t here.

The tenseness seeped from her muscles and her shoulders slumped in relief. No one here.

“Keira.” The voice held amusement at her expense.

When she pivoted, her gaze went to the leaping flames of the fire, and she saw him. She froze, her attention riveted on Razvan’s gloating amber eyes and the blue flames licking across his high cheekbones, over his goatee beard.

Magic.

Somehow, he’d managed to send a message via his pet wizards.

She fought to control her shock and the shudders zapping her taut muscles. With her mother’s help, she’d escaped him once, but it seemed she hadn’t run far enough.

She schooled her face to impassive. “Razvan.”

“It’s been a long time, Keira.”

Not long enough as far as she was concerned.

“What do you want?”

“Invite me in, Keira.”

“No.”
Grata!
Did she look stupid? If she obeyed him, he’d step into her sitting room. “You are not welcome in my home. You are not welcome on this planet. You are not welcome in my life.”

His dark caramel-colored features tightened, his displeasure clear even with the flicker of the magical flames licking across his skin. “I will have you, Keira.”

“No! That’s sick. We share blood.”

“I never forget a slight, my lovely Keira. You will pay, and I
will
have you.”

In her peripheral vision, she caught sight of Hortese and gestured her to stay.

“Who’s there?” Razvan demanded.

“No one,” Keira said quickly. Too quickly.

“No matter. You won’t escape me a second time.”

Cristo
, he meant that. Her heart ventricles thudded extra hard against the wall of her chest. Fear made her want to run to the kitchen for water to douse the flames and her half-brother’s mocking face.

Razvan Cronan was the oldest son of Xavier Cronan, the man who was head of the House of Cawdor and also her father. Not that she’d ever had much to do with either while growing up. When Xavier visited her mother, Keira had always been under the charge of her nurse and instructed to keep away.

She hadn’t even known she had half-brothers until she reached eighteen cycles and had attended a celebration ball in Cawdor Square. She gritted her teeth, thrust back in memories and none of them good.

“Our father is dead.”

“What?”

“I am in charge of the House now.” A mocking smile curled across his lips before his face blinked out and the flames reduced to their normal state of pink and purple. Outside, the storm ceased as rapidly as it had started.

It took long moments before she could force her legs to move. Her knees quivered so much they buckled, and she slumped onto the gel-couch.

“Who was that?” Hortese demanded.

“Razvan, my half-brother.”

Hortese hissed and her entire body vibrated. Her pink eyes glowed and her hair tendrils bristled. “Despoiler.”

He was all that and more and very, very dangerous.

“Yes. We must take care. Use every precaution. I will speak to Hilda and Melvyn. No matter what requests, what orders or pleas he uses we must refuse his requests to enter this house.”

“We’re lucky he didn’t appear while the prince was present,” Hortese said.

A chill sped over her skin, leaving a series of green bumps pebbled on her limbs. Fear left her lightheaded. The idea of Razvan learning of Jarlath’s visit and hurting the prince. If he’d witnessed their kiss…

“Can we purchase a spell to keep him away?” Hortese asked.

“Yes, we’ll need protection and repulsion spells. The strongest we can buy. I’m sure he’s spying on us.”

Something else to worry about. If Razvan was able to spy on her, she was in big trouble. Panic unfurled in her belly, spreading with each rapid beat of her heart ventricles. She could leave—no! He would
not
drive her from her home as he had done in the past.

Hortese touched Keira’s arm to gain her attention. “What do you want to do?”

“Now that the storm has passed, we could take the flymo and attend the night market. We might be able to find the spell or at least order the spell from one of the market stalls dealing with magical charms.”

“All right, and meantime, we should all wear a sprig of evil-eye herb on our person. Razvan’s magic is strong to travel between the planets,” Hortese said.

Keira sighed, Hortese’s unease a palpable thing, which ran parallel with her own fears. “It’s worth a try. Please com Melvyn and ask if he wants to accompany us. He might like to have a drink at the Cat’s Arms with his friends.”

“We should take Hilda too,” Hortese said. “She likes to visit her sister. We don’t know if the despot might try to return.”

Keira heaved a hard sigh. Razvan was a brute, and he’d never leave her alone.

She’d never be safe until he was dead.

* * * * *

L
ooking at the list made his head hurt and his heart ache. The women, or at least the names he recognized, were facsimiles of his mother. Jarlath stepped into the sanitizer and turned on a combination of water and steam. The warm mixture pummeled his body from three different directions and the irritating itchy sensation on his back faded.

Grata!
He didn’t want any of the women, but if he didn’t make an attempt and meet or spend time courting them, his parents would become pushier. They might even decide to choose his bride for him, and that would be a disaster.

He switched the unit to dry mode and turned his body until the moisture on his skin evaporated.