marks in her arm.
Fate had drawn blood.
Slowly, with the grace Lily had honed over the years, she stood, her knees shaking but holding her. Fate had given her two choices, and both involved death.
Lily glanced out the windows toward the fathomless ocean. She’d married out of duty, and on the day she’d been widowed, she’d been claimed by Fate. As a prophet who worked for the Realm, she’d sacrificed for destiny. For years, alone , she’d served Fate without fail.
Sometimes the line in the sand involved a yoga mat and tennis shoes. Maybe Fate could hear Lily, maybe not. Either way, it was time to draw that line, so Lily spoke slowly and clearly. “You’ve underestimated me, bitch.”
Chapter Eight
Caleb tried to settle his large boots under the conference table without knocking into the middle support. They’d drawn the blinds in the small conference room, and the darkness was making him twitchy. He was a soldier, not a businessperson. “I hate teleconferencing.”
Seated to Caleb’s right, Dage rolled his eyes and finished punching in a code on a keyboard, an ever-present grape energy drink at his elbow. “Will you please stop your whining?”
“I’m not whining.” Caleb hunched his shoulders.
“Are, too.” Dage finished messing with the keyboard and glanced up at a blank screen taking up the entire north wall. “Want to talk about it?”
“About what?” When the hell was this meeting going to start?
“Lily.”
The mere mention of her name swept heat through Caleb’s body. “No,” he growled. While the king could certainly smell her on Caleb, he didn’t need to mention the fact. “Mind your own business.”
“You’re my oldest friend. You are my business.” Dage popped open the top on his drink.
Caleb nodded at the truth. It was nice to have friends, but he wasn’t a sharing type of guy. “Thanks, but I’m good.”
Dage shrugged. “Okay. How did the training go earlier with the shifter brothers?”
Caleb sighed. Somehow Dage had found an isolated group of three wolf brothers who’d pretty much raised themselves after having lost their parents. “They’re a motley crew. Why in the hell did you send them to me for training?”
“I usually send angry misfits to you,” Dage said calmly.
Caleb’s head snapped up as the truth of the statement punched him in the gut. “That’s true. Are you pissed at me?”
Dage’s right eyebrow rose. “No. You’re just good with misfits. With counseling and training.”
Caleb’s mouth went dry. “I don’t counsel.”
“Sure, you do. Not in an office, but in bars, around campfires, and across training fields. You help the angry and the forgotten. Always have.” Dage turned back toward the keyboard.
A rare panic sped up Caleb’s heart. “You’re making me sound like a prophet.”
Dage sighed. “You dislike the ceremony of the prophecy and the superficial assumptions everyone makes about prophets because of their roles. But you’ve always counseled, and you’ve always helped soldiers, even before the marking appeared on your neck.”
Caleb blinked. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, when the door silently opened.
His mouth went dry.
Prophet Guiles held the door open for Lily. She swept inside, wearing her usual uniform of an old-fashioned dress, her hair braided down her back. An energy vibrated around her, one that took a second for Caleb to pin down.
Fury and determination.
The prophet was pissed.
Caleb cocked his head to the side, curiosity burning through him. Was she angry with him?
She smiled, somehow appearing regal. “King. Caleb.” All grace, she took the seat next to Caleb. Prophet Guiles sat next to her.
Caleb leaned into her space, the scent of strawberries nearly dropping him to his knees. He knew how she tasted, and he wanted more. “Are you all right?”
She slowly turned her head, one eyebrow arched. “Of course. You?”
Yeah, pissed. But he couldn’t tell at whom or why.
The king
Fate had drawn blood.
Slowly, with the grace Lily had honed over the years, she stood, her knees shaking but holding her. Fate had given her two choices, and both involved death.
Lily glanced out the windows toward the fathomless ocean. She’d married out of duty, and on the day she’d been widowed, she’d been claimed by Fate. As a prophet who worked for the Realm, she’d sacrificed for destiny. For years, alone , she’d served Fate without fail.
Sometimes the line in the sand involved a yoga mat and tennis shoes. Maybe Fate could hear Lily, maybe not. Either way, it was time to draw that line, so Lily spoke slowly and clearly. “You’ve underestimated me, bitch.”
Chapter Eight
Caleb tried to settle his large boots under the conference table without knocking into the middle support. They’d drawn the blinds in the small conference room, and the darkness was making him twitchy. He was a soldier, not a businessperson. “I hate teleconferencing.”
Seated to Caleb’s right, Dage rolled his eyes and finished punching in a code on a keyboard, an ever-present grape energy drink at his elbow. “Will you please stop your whining?”
“I’m not whining.” Caleb hunched his shoulders.
“Are, too.” Dage finished messing with the keyboard and glanced up at a blank screen taking up the entire north wall. “Want to talk about it?”
“About what?” When the hell was this meeting going to start?
“Lily.”
The mere mention of her name swept heat through Caleb’s body. “No,” he growled. While the king could certainly smell her on Caleb, he didn’t need to mention the fact. “Mind your own business.”
“You’re my oldest friend. You are my business.” Dage popped open the top on his drink.
Caleb nodded at the truth. It was nice to have friends, but he wasn’t a sharing type of guy. “Thanks, but I’m good.”
Dage shrugged. “Okay. How did the training go earlier with the shifter brothers?”
Caleb sighed. Somehow Dage had found an isolated group of three wolf brothers who’d pretty much raised themselves after having lost their parents. “They’re a motley crew. Why in the hell did you send them to me for training?”
“I usually send angry misfits to you,” Dage said calmly.
Caleb’s head snapped up as the truth of the statement punched him in the gut. “That’s true. Are you pissed at me?”
Dage’s right eyebrow rose. “No. You’re just good with misfits. With counseling and training.”
Caleb’s mouth went dry. “I don’t counsel.”
“Sure, you do. Not in an office, but in bars, around campfires, and across training fields. You help the angry and the forgotten. Always have.” Dage turned back toward the keyboard.
A rare panic sped up Caleb’s heart. “You’re making me sound like a prophet.”
Dage sighed. “You dislike the ceremony of the prophecy and the superficial assumptions everyone makes about prophets because of their roles. But you’ve always counseled, and you’ve always helped soldiers, even before the marking appeared on your neck.”
Caleb blinked. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, when the door silently opened.
His mouth went dry.
Prophet Guiles held the door open for Lily. She swept inside, wearing her usual uniform of an old-fashioned dress, her hair braided down her back. An energy vibrated around her, one that took a second for Caleb to pin down.
Fury and determination.
The prophet was pissed.
Caleb cocked his head to the side, curiosity burning through him. Was she angry with him?
She smiled, somehow appearing regal. “King. Caleb.” All grace, she took the seat next to Caleb. Prophet Guiles sat next to her.
Caleb leaned into her space, the scent of strawberries nearly dropping him to his knees. He knew how she tasted, and he wanted more. “Are you all right?”
She slowly turned her head, one eyebrow arched. “Of course. You?”
Yeah, pissed. But he couldn’t tell at whom or why.
The king
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