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Thor in the eye.
    “The Tradition has named a new queen for all of Aris,” Vida
continued. “And for the king.” A tremor passed through her voice, jerking
Kirel’s head up. He must have imagined it because when she went on, there
wasn’t a hint of uncertainty in her tone. “It’s your duty to bring her back to
the castle. Tonight.”
    “Of course,” Thor said. “I’ve already ordered a carriage
saddled. Tell us who she is and where to find her, and we’ll have her here as
quickly as possible.”
    “It’s not that simple,” the king said, speaking for the
first time that evening. He toyed with the sleeve of his voluminous robe, not
meeting their eyes.
    Tension knotted in Kirel’s stomach. It wasn’t like Shivar to
be uncertain about anything.
    “If you’re concerned about the training,” Domenic said, a
teasing lilt in his tone, “don’t be. We’ve got enough experience to teach the
future queen everything she needs to know. Well, most of us. I can’t vouch for
Kirel.”
    A scowl curled Kirel’s lip. “The rough rutting you think
passes for lovemaking won’t be good enough here, Dom. Maybe we should leave you
out of it altogether.”
    “And you think you can—”
    “The woman the Tradition has chosen is Nelina Lannen.”
    The king’s words caused the planet to tilt on its axis.
Kirel’s head spun and the dull ache that lived inside the empty space in his
heart expanded, threatening to burst right through his chest.
    His vision swam in a red haze. Moved by instinct and sheer
desperation, Kirel snapped his blade into his palm and lunged at the king.
Catching him off guard, Kirel pressed the tip of his blade just beneath
Shivar’s jaw and had the perverse satisfaction of seeing a crimson drop of
blood blossom to the surface. He applied slightly more pressure and the king
paled.
    “You swore to me she was dead! I never would have left her
otherwise. Never!”
    “I didn’t think—”
    Metal rasped from behind him and Kirel whirled to meet the
threat, leading with his blade. Thor struck out first but Kirel neatly parried
the blow and dove low for a sideswipe at the man’s ribs. From his left, Domenic
joined the fray. Dom didn’t use his blade unless absolutely necessary,
preferring his fists and the formidable strength of his body to any other
weapon.
    Wasting no time, Domenic went straight for Kirel’s weapon
hand. He wrapped one arm around Kirel’s elbow and grabbed for the blade,
bending Kirel’s wrist back with enough force to make his eyes water. Kirel
shoved back hard but Thor advanced and positioned the sharp edge of his knife
against Kirel’s throat before he could gain the advantage.
    “Don’t do this,” Thor whispered fiercely between clenched
teeth.
    Domenic’s hold tightened. Kirel loosened his grip on the
hilt of his blade. The weapon dropped to the ground, the thick carpeting
muffling the clatter as it landed.
    “Let him go,” Shivar said. “I deserved that. Probably more.”
    With one last warning look, Thor neatly sheathed his weapon.
Kirel stumbled out of Domenic’s grasp. His limbs wouldn’t hold him. He
staggered and grabbed on to the edge of the hearth, his fingers digging into
the hard marble with all the strength he possessed.
    “Holy Moon Gods,” Kirel whispered. “She’s alive .”
    “I needed you.” The king’s voice seemed to reach Kirel from
somewhere far away, barely breaking through the shroud of grief that surrounded
him. “You’d been trained to take your place as my Guardian for longer than I’d
ruled. There was no one else. I didn’t know what else to do.”
    The violent reaction that had made him attack the man he’d
sworn to protect with his life shifted into a dull, throbbing ache. It settled
like lead in his gut. Nelina’s image shimmered just out of his reach, taunting
him with his inability to find her…to claim her as his own.
    For the first time, he felt the guiding hand of the
Tradition behind the erotic imagery swirling