Page 66 of A Kiss of Flame
“As do I,” Mage Peregrine grumbled, already nodding off again.
Mage William looked ready to chew iron nails, but he was outnumbered. He replied with a grunt that Mage Tatiana took as agreement. He stormed out of the room as the other two rose from their seats, leaving Peregrine to his nap.
Mage Fujioka looked at the two Dökk relics on the table as they came to stand before Levian. “We should meet in my offices,” he told her and Mage Tatiana. “Between his ties to Merlin and Jacard and what we know, it may be enough to convince the witches to detain Vane and his accomplice.”
Levian could hardly believe how quickly things had turned around. Her broken heart gave a sharp thump. Barith would scarcely be able to believe it either, though he would have happily declared that he’d known the Council was being daft and that it was about time they gave her the credit she deserved.
She glanced at Peregrine, who was already snoring softly. She wasn’t entirely sure what had changed in Peregrine to make him stand up for her so suddenly, except that maybe what he’d said had been true. She had been working tirelessly over the last year to be the best Ambassador she could be for the Zephyrs, asdull as it had been. Not for the sake of the Council but because she’d taken her responsibility to the Zephyrs and King Thurin seriously. Until then, she’d had no interest in cooperating with the Council in any capacity, but what she’d told Carvatticus recently bubbled back up. She’d changed over this last year since everything with Gwendolyn. She’d grown up. Peregrine had taken notice.
Barith would have been happy for her, even if he would have grumbled that they still didn’t deserve her. Levian was itching to tell the dragon everything, but she couldn’t. And the realization ripped her heart apart even more.
“I’ll help however I can,” she offered shakily, trying to push the dragon and her broken heart from her thoughts. “Though I’d start by letting the witches know that Vane will be missing three fingers on his right hand.” Mage Tatiana lifted her hand to her mouth in shock while her eyes widened at the ring on the table. Fujioka grimaced at her.
“I still have two of the fingers if you need them,” Levian added, irritated that severed fingers were making her think of Barith and tempting her with fresh tears.
The mages looked at each other uncomfortably, then at her, clearly second-guessing themselves. Levian could have sworn she heard Peregrine chuckle in his sleep. Barith would have laughed, too.
Chapter Twenty-One
Barith stood before his mother’s meeting room doors, taking a steadying breath. He turned to Sera beside him, his voice low as he asked, “Yer sure yer fine with this?”
Sera sighed, her dark brown eyes meeting his. There was steel behind her gaze. “It’s a good plan,” she told him.”If they'll agree.”
Jude grunted at his other side, arms crossed, as she gave him an exasperated look. “I think yer all daft,” she grumbled for what felt like the hundredth time that day.
Barith eyed his sister. “You dinnae have to be here.”
Jude’s jaw set with determination. “If this is gonna work, you need all of us.”
Barith couldn't argue with that, though he wasn't entirely convinced that his plan would succeed even with his sisters and Sera on his side. What he did know was that they’d come too far not to try. He nodded once, murmured a quick prayer under his breath in Draconic, and pushed open the heavy doors.
The room was already tense, the air thick with unease. Queen Eithne sat at the right side of the grand table with three of her advisors and Flòra, her stern expression mirrored by the otherspresent. Across from them sat Callum Ceanadach, his brother Angus, and two other Ceanadach horde advisors.
Barith knew Callum had been using his absence as an excuse to renegotiate parts of the deal with his mother—Threatening to toss out his mating contract and the rest of the agreement simply because Barith hadn’t been paying his niece enough attention during their courting. He’d not been wrong, but it’d also been an excuse to exploit the queen and her desire to see their agreement done. Not only that, Callum had used it as an excuse to push for absurd demands—like ownership of an island off the coast of Eilean Teine, where their horde raised nearly half their sheep herd.
Sera had been willing to fulfill her duty and take Barith as a mate, but she’d not taken kindly to having her opinions and feelings entirely overlooked by her uncle. Callum hadn’t asked Sera once if she’d been offended by Barith’s absence before he’d begun lying to everyone that his niece was beside herself with grief over being ignored. Sera had known he’d done it to manipulate the queen, and she’d not appreciated it one bit.
Everyone at his mother’s table was clearly exhausted, their expressions a mixture of worn, weary, and frustrated. Queen Eithne was mid-snarl when she turned her attention to the trio that had come barging in.
“And what’s the meanin’ of this?” Barith’s mother snapped, her eyes narrowing dangerously.
This was the last meeting to solidify their agreements before a grand party that night to officially celebrate the merging of their horde’s banners. It was also when they’d planned to announce that his mating to Sera would occur the following week.
Callum’s gaze shifted to Sera with irritation. “Your contract is already settled.”
Barith's chest tightened, his resolve steeling against the fight he knew was about to unfold. After Levian had left the island, he’d proceeded to spend the three following days getting too pissed to stand up straight. Barith would have kept his spree going if it hadn’t been for Cat and Ismay. His annoying sisters had found him passed out near the stables, where they’d dumped a bucket of frigid sea water over his head to wake him from his drunken stupor. Then Ismay poured tonics down his throat to sober him up while Cat snarled at him to stop wallowing because it wouldn’t bring Levian back or help him convince their mother not to take the deal with Callum’s horde.
While he’d been trying to drown his heartbreak with ale and whiskey, resolved that he’d be forced to mate with Sera or be banished from the horde, his sisters had been cooking up a plan. A plan rooted in his ideas but perfected by Flòra and Jude.
Barith tried to settle his nerves and stepped forward. “We’ve come to negotiate a deal of our own,” he said, his voice firm, echoing through the room.
He’d not spoken to his mother since she’d stormed out of his cottage demanding he get Levian off her island. And in his drunken state of defiance, he’d not bothered to attend any of the meetings she’d ordered him to, including the one solidifying his mating contract.
Silence fell, and Barith could feel the weight of every gaze on him. His mother’s eyes hardened, her lips pressing into a thin line. Callum chuckled before she could respond, leaning back in his chair with a smug expression.
“Is that so?” Callum taunted.
Sera stepped forward, her chin raised. “It is, uncle.”