Serpent's Claim (Serpent's Touch 2)

AMIRA

Kyllen’s perfect composure had waned by the time dinner ended. Not waiting for the dancing to commence, he thanked the High Lord for a “warm welcome” and took his leave, whisking me away, too.

“Was it wise to let them know of your intentions?” I asked when the two of us were finally alone, back in my room. Our room, really. Kyllen had hardly spent any time in his own bedroom.

“There isn’t much to hide.” He yanked the silk embroidered scarf from his shoulder and tossed it over the back of one of the chairs. “I’m expected to take my rightful place. Anything else would be a disgrace.”

“How are you planning to do that? The High Lord—”

“Udren can stay where he is.” He rubbed the back of his neck, stretching his shoulders. “I’m not in a hurry to displace him. He doesn’t have much time left before the Great Serpent recalls him and the Lorsan Wetlands take him. He’s been the High Lord most of his life, and he deserves to die as such.”

“That’s not what you said to Bherlon.” He’d only let his nephew know there might be room for negotiations.

“I expect Bherlon to fight me. In which case, I’d like to have as many negotiation chips as possible in my pocket.”

“What exactly do you mean by him fighting you?” I had no doubt Bherlon would oppose Kyllen taking over, but I desperately hoped it wouldn’t come down to a physical battle.

He heaved a breath. “Well, there’re several options to resolve this matter honorably. Either way, however, I’m in the right here.”

“Are you sure?”

He ran his fingers through his senties. “I’ll need to find evidence to support my case. There are plenty of books on ancestry and succession in the archives below the palace. I dodged reading them in my youth, but I’ll need to go through them now and build my case to present to the king if I have to.”

“Can the king decide on this matter?”

“He could rule on it, yes, which would help. But there will likely be a tournament, too.”

“A tournament?” Worry spiked inside me.

“Yes. The strongest one wins.”

“And what happens to the weakest one?” From Kyllen’s stories, I knew gorgonian tournaments weren't mere exercises of sportsmanship. They didn’t end well for all participants.

“The loser usually dies,” he said.

I blew out a sharp breath, feeling like I’d been punched in the stomach.

“Amira.” He took me in his arms. “A tournament is actually the desired outcome in this case. It takes place in public. Its results are indisputable. You know I’ve won enough tournaments to have a good chance at winning one more.”

Kyllen was younger than Bherlon, but it didn’t mean he was faster or stronger. On the contrary, Bherlon had the advantage of the longer experience in life.

Their physical age didn’t mean much to fae. Their youth lasted for centuries. Unlike that of humans, who not only had much shorter lifespans but also spent their entire lives aging.

“I hope it won’t come down to a tournament.” I slid my hands up his bare chest. “There has to be a way to resolve this without trying to kill each other. Wouldn’t the king’s ruling on the matter be enough?”

“Maybe it would, maybe not.” He exhaled a long breath, as if trying to let go of the worries with it. “There is nothing we can do about it tonight, can we? It’ll have to wait until the morning.” He leaned his forehead to mine. “You don’t have to concern yourself with this, sweet pea. Tonight, I just need you…” He breathed in deeply. “Gods, I missed you so much.”

He slid his hands under my veil. Crumpling it, he lifted it past my nose and pressed it against my eyes to keep them closed.

“Kissing you always makes the world feel like a better place,” he murmured, lowering his mouth to mine.

Wasn’t that the truth? My concern lifted somewhat. All problems felt so much easier to deal with when Kyllen was with me. Tomorrow, we’d figure something out. As long as we were together, we could do anything.

Kyllen’s forked tongue slipped between my lips, then curled around mine in a kiss that felt both sensual and intimate.

His senties dove into my hair, then trailed down my neck and into the bodice of my dress. Like dexterous fingers, they stroked and caressed, dancing along my skin and making my body sing with desire.

He tugged at the ribbon lacing my dress, loosening it. Shoving down the fabric, he bared my body for him. Curling a sentie around one of my breasts, he made its mouth tug and nibble on the tip. My nipple beaded, turning hard. Arousal rippled through my body, pooling hot between my legs.