The Journal Keeper (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (12 page)

Instantly, her eyes flew open, and she gasped in surprise. Her fingers held his in a death grip, as if he was a lifeline keeping her from drowning.

“Were you dreaming,
capora
?” Nikolas asked softly.

She nodded slightly, her eyes wide in the darkness of the room.

“What of?” Nikolas asked, still keeping his voice gentle.

“You,” Rianne breathed.

“What was I doing?” Nikolas pressed, sinking onto her bed.

“Fighting,” Rianne whispered as he leaned over her.

“Who?” Nikolas asked.

“I don’t know, but you were bleeding,” Rianne said, her voice trembling slightly.

Nikolas was quiet for a moment, his eyes searching hers as he pried his finger from her grip.

“Was I dying,
capora
?” Nikolas murmured, guessing where the dream had come from.

Rianne nodded, a choked sob escaping her throat.

“Silly girl. I would never let it happen,” Nikolas assured her.

“You almost did yesterday,” Rianne argued.

“But I didn’t. Listen to me, Rianne. I will not leave you alone and unprotected. It is my job to keep you safe. I cannot do that if I’m dead,” Nikolas said.

“You can’t control when you die,” Rianne insisted stubbornly.

“Maybe not, but so long as you need me, I will not die,” Nikolas promised, bringing her hand to his lips.

Setting her hand back on the bed, Nikolas pulled the covers back and moved between them. His arms wrapped around Rianne, pulling her back into his chest.

“What are you doing?” Rianne squeaked.

“Sleeping. You should as well,” Nikolas sighed, burying his face in her hair.

“Why?” Rianne asked.

“Because if you have another nightmare, all you’ll have to do is look behind you to assure yourself that I still live. Now sleep,
capora
. The morning will come early,” Nikolas told her, breathing in her scent as sleep began to claim him.

“Thank you,” Rianne whispered, her fingers lacing through his as she drifted back to sleep.

A thrill shot through him as the knowledge that, while her first climax might belong to Dorin, the first night spent with her in bed belonged to him. The soothing sound of her breath, the steady beat of her heart was the last thing he was aware of before her uniquely sweet scent caused him to release the stresses of the day and slip off to sleep.

The fountain pen flew across the paper as Rianne worked on translating the journal in front of her. Silal sat at his desk, penning letters to the other six territories in Laurasia as well as the Order of Witches and the Order of Warlocks in Gondwanaland about the issue of the revolutionaries. The scratching of pen on paper filled the study, a soothing sound that lulled her into a state of contentment. The words flowed from the journal, through her, onto the paper. It was as easy as translating Latin, which had only come after nearly ten years of learning the now-dead language. To find Merlin’s language so easy to read was as astonishing as it was exciting. She was working with a language no one but she could understand. It was every linguist’s dream come true.

Merlin had written very in-depth accounts of his time spent traveling between the two realms. Each page gave further details to not only the shifter and magical realm, but also an in-depth history of the human realm. In college, she’d been taught that King Arthur was a myth, a story invented to increase England’s legendary greatness. The idea that Merlin had actually existed, that he wasn’t just some made-up character to go along with the tale, was fascinating to her.

“That’s enough. The two of you have been in here all morning. It’s time to go out and get some fresh air,” Visess insisted, sweeping into the room.

“Now, darling. You know I have to finish these letters,” Silal cajoled, though he laid down his pen and smiled lovingly at his wife.

“They can wait till tomorrow. Right now, you’re going to accompany me on a flight,” Visess demanded, grabbing her mate by the arm and practically dragging him from his chair.

Rianne laughed at the king and queen as she forcibly pulled him from the room, throwing a wink over her shoulder as they left. She knew Visess was probably right about taking a break, especially since her back was suddenly protesting from being doubled over for so long.

“Oh, I beg your pardon, my lady. I thought the study was empty.”

Rianne looked to see one of the footmen bowing deeply to her. She couldn’t remember his name, but vaguely recognized him as the man who had directed her, Nikolas, and Dorin to the dining hall her first night in the castle. His thin frame wasn’t very tall, but he still had a few inches on her. He was nowhere near as tall as Dorin or Nikolas, though. Disheveled orange hair fell into his face, partially obscuring his eyes, making him look rather young. She vaguely wondered if the red hair was a trait among the arctic shifters, but then reminded herself that none of the wolves she’d met had red or orange hair. She made a mental note to ask Dorin or Nikolas about it later.

The footman shifted under her gaze, as if uncomfortable with her continued perusal of him. To put him at ease, Rianne looked to her notes when she answered him.

“It’s all right. I was just about to leave.” Rianne waved him off.

“Ah. I was sent to clear the king’s desk,” the man explained nervously.

“Of course. Go ahead.” Rianne smiled, trying to put him at ease.

He nodded once, rather jerkily, before moving to straighten the papers on the desk. Rianne stacked her notes together, using them as a bookmark in the journal before putting the book in the study safe. Silal had insisted the book be kept hidden when not in use. He worried someone might try to destroy or steal it. Rianne thought he was being a little overdramatic, but she obliged him seeing as he had given her access to the study and the safe.

Pulling the key from her pocket, Rianne unlocked the tiny door that led to a magically enlarged vault. She placed the journal safely inside before relocking the door. She turned to find the footman giving her an odd look and smiled apologetically.

“The king insists the book be locked up at all times,” Rianne explained with a shrug.

“Of course, my lady.” The man bowed, going back to his work.

“Would you happen to know where Prince Dorin and Sir Nikolas are?” Rianne asked, sensing the man would prefer she use their titles.

“I believe they were out in the lists for the prince’s weekly training,” the man answered.

“Thank you…” Rianne trailed off uncertainly.

“Fawsny, my lady.”

“Fawsny. Yes, of course. Sorry. I’m having trouble remembering everyone’s names,” Rianne chuckled.

“It’s no problem at all, my lady,” Fawsny assured her with another bow.

“Er. Right, then. See you later,” Rianne called, leaving quickly before he could bow to her again.

It didn’t take her long to make it out to the lists where it was quite obvious the two men were intent on killing each other.

* * * *

“We need to talk about it,” Dorin insisted as he and Nikolas circled each other.

“No, we don’t.” Nikolas growled, lunging toward the prince.

“Yes, we do. This has to be done carefully, Nikolas. You can’t go into it without a plan. We can’t just go in half-cocked,” Dorin persisted, dodging the larger man.

“We don’t need to plan it down to the last detail, either. It’s natural, Dorin. Let it happen as it will,” Nikolas grumbled as they began circling again.

“Is it so bad that I want to make it good for her? You know this will be her first time,” Dorin glared.

“It will be good for her, simply because she belongs to us,” Nikolas assured him.

“Damn it, Nik! Why won’t you listen to me? She’s untouched. Her body needs to be prepared properly. If you go barreling in there like she’s some common harlot, you’ll end up hurting her,” Dorin nearly shouted.

“Don’t you dare compare her to those whores!” Nikolas roared, easily tackling Dorin.

He went down easily, being less skilled in battle than his partner. Still, Dorin did not give up the fight. Fists flew as the two struggled against each other, neither one truly gaining the upper hand. Many of the Guard gathered around, cheering them on as they rolled across the list.

Nikolas’s fist connected with Dorin’s nose, snapping his head back against the ground. Dorin responded with a snarl, sending a right hook to Nikolas’s jaw. The polar rolled with the punch, allowing Dorin to leap to his feet.

“Is this how it’s to be? The two of us fighting over how to be with her? If so, then I quit now. I thought this was supposed to be a partnership, not a dictatorship.” Nikolas spat, wiping away blood from his mouth.

“Damn it, no. I am not the bad guy here for wanting to make it good for her,” Dorin insisted.

“No. You’re just the person who won’t listen to anyone else’s opinion but your own. How do you expect to be able to run the territory if you can’t accept that someone else might be right?” Nikolas pointed out harshly.

“One has nothing to do with the other,” Dorin insisted.

“Really? Tell me, Highness. If I don’t go along with your plan for our mating night, what will you do? Keep me out?”

“I don’t see how it will matter much because the mating is not going to happen.”

Dorin and Nikolas both turned to find Rianne standing a few feet away, cheeks reddened in anger. She was absolutely breathtaking in a forest-green gown, one thick enough for her to wear outdoors without a heavy cloak. Dorin couldn’t help but notice the way the bodice accentuated her abundant breasts, drawing particular attention to the amount of cleavage revealed by the lowered neckline. Glancing around, he noticed many of the Guard eyeing his mate and quickly moved to pull her cloak tighter around her.

“What do you mean there won’t be a mating?” Nikolas growled, stomping forward.

“Exactly what I said. Stop tugging at me, Dorin,” Rianne snapped, batting his hands away.

“You need to cover up. I won’t have other men looking at what is ours,” Dorin said through gritted teeth.

“Ridiculous. No one is looking. Now stop it,” Rianne insisted.

“Rianne, whatever you are thinking, whatever you are planning, I promise you, the mating will happen,” Nikolas vowed dangerously, stepping closer to her.

To her credit, she didn’t back down, but stood toe to toe with the angry polar bear.

“No, it won’t, because I’m leaving this place as soon as I can find a way,” Rianne said.

“Over my dead body,” Nikolas scowled, grabbing her by the arms.

“Nikolas, stop. You’ll hurt her.” Dorin stepped in, trying to separate the two.

“I will not allow you to leave us. You are our mate and you will stay with us,” Nikolas insisted forcefully.

“Let go of me, Nikolas,” Rianne murmured, her voice scary in its monotony.

“I can’t,” Nikolas said, his voice softening slightly.

“You have to. I can’t stay here,” Rianne whispered, the fight leaving her.

“
Capora
, I—” Nikolas started.

“We should talk about this later. There’s no need to rush into anything. We have time,” Dorin interrupted, attempting to keep the peace.

Sighing, Nikolas dropped his hands from Rianne and backed away.

“You’re right. We don’t have to discuss this now. We will discuss it soon, though,
capora
, and I can promise you, I won’t be dissuaded,” Nikolas claimed vehemently.

“I think you will find I can be just as immovable as you,” Rianne challenged.

Dorin quickly stepped between them before they could start up again, placing one hand on Rianne’s arm and the other on Nikolas’s shoulder.

“Why don’t we head inside? I know I could use a little bit of nourishment. We can share the midday meal together,” Dorin suggested.

“Just so long as the topic of me staying here doesn’t come up, I would be more than happy to accompany you,” Rianne agreed rather formally, looping her arm through his.

Nikolas simply grunted, his expression dark, but he followed the two of them into the castle. As difficult as it would be, Dorin knew he needed to keep the peace between his two partners until Rianne could admit her feelings for them. He knew it might take some time, but he had faith the mating bond would bring her around. He couldn’t afford to believe anything else.

* * * *

Rianne was sitting in her room, a complete collection of Homer’s work in the original Greek sitting on her lap, the pages unturned. Her gaze was drawn outside and to the people milling about in the fading light.

She wondered how Odysseus had handled being away from his family for twenty years. Granted, he’d been fighting a war, but hadn’t he missed them? He didn’t even meet his son until he returned home. Had he even thought about Penelope waiting for his return, or was the thrill of war too much great for him to think of his wife and child?

A knock on her door pulled her from those thoughts, and she turned to find Carme entering with a tray of food.

“Evening, my lady. The prince said you wanted supper brought up to you,” Carme said, setting the tray on the small table in front of the fire.

“Thank you, Carme,” Rianne smiled weakly from her spot by the window.

“Everything all right?” Carme asked hesitantly.

Rianne blinked, turning her eyes up to keep the sudden tears from falling before she answered.

“Just thinking.”

Carme gave her a knowing look as she began setting out Rianne’s dinner. Knowing she couldn’t skip the meal, Rianne stood and moved closer to the fire. Warmth that had vanished from being close to the window infused her limbs, and she shivered at the delicious feeling.

“I heard about the prince’s fight with Sir Nikolas,” Carme started, settling into the chair across from Rianne.

Unwilling to delve into details, Rianne simply nodded as she picked at the
miroyam
on her plate. Similar to chicken, it was prepared with a white wine butter sauce that was simply delightful. Even with the tasty temptation before her, Rianne found it difficult to swallow bite after bite.