“I am being careful.” I lifted my arms out from my sides and gradually stood up straight. I peered around the room with my eyes wide in wonder—my attention stalling on the ceiling. “Oh my Fae. This is most definitely a different angle.”
King Athon suddenly stilled, his grip tightening on my ankles. His nose twitched, his nostrils flaring. The King of Shifters inhaled deeply, his muscled chest expanding with it.
He hissed one word, “Shit.”
I jerked my head down to him. “What’s wrong?”
“This…is interesting,” Bishop Marzel rumbled dubiously, his voice coming from the direction of the doorway. “My king, what in the realm are you two doing?”
I didn’t move, keeping my head down, my hair hiding my face—as if that would fucking help right now. But it was all I could think of, so I did it with vigor, holding my breath like I wasn’t even there.
An elven princess high in the air…
Standing atop the King of Shifters’ shoulders…
Wearing our pajamas, barely dressed…
In the middle of the night… Without my father around…
And pretending like I didn’t exist at this moment in time.
It was a sound plan.
The shifter king’s personal assistant and guard cleared his throat—loudly—and he rocked back on his heels, waiting for an answer.
King Athon sighed heavily and finally turned his head to look at his friend. He stated studiously, “We’re working, Bishop. It’s nothing to concern yourself over.”
“I see…” Bishop stated profoundly.
I sucked in a large lungful of air. And went still again.
I had this invisibility act down like a professional.
I might as well be Grandmother Isabella right now.
No one could see me.
“And how are you, Princess Trixie?” Bishop asked, mighty amused by the sound of it. “Are you having a splendid working day?”
To Fairy and back with this situation.
The Fae hated King Athon and me. They had to.
I flipped my hair out of my face to peer into his solid honey-brown eyes, demanding an answer. “What in the Fairy are you doing here so late?”
Bishop flicked his finger at the shifter king. “I answer to him, not you, Your Highness.” He smirked, full of condescension. “And damn, you certainly are high right now. How’s the view from my king’s shoulders? And does your king know where you are right now?”
“Enough, Bishop,” King Athon reprimanded briskly. “Go to my bedchamber. I’ll be there shortly.”
His friend shook his head and turned around, commenting over his shoulder as he walked away, “This is ballsy, even for you. Her father could walk in at any moment, so watch your back.”
My attention flicked downward, toward my tricky soul mate. I whispered sharply, “Why is he here? Going to your bedchamber?”
The King of Shifters snarled impatiently, “Before our quest began, I asked him to bring Axel here. I planned ahead, unlike your king.”
“I suppose that does make sense. But keep him out of your bed, just in case I get twitchy.” I turned my attention to the caster desk, ignoring the tiger’s vicious growl. “Be quiet while I look at this. It’ll take a few minutes to figure out what I’m seeing.”
“I hate you to the bottom pits of Fairy,” he seethed.
“We say the sweetest shit to each other,” I mumbled absently, pointing my fingers down at the desk, attempting to solve this puzzle. “The small pieces…they’re all part of a bigger piece.”
King Athon actually shut the fuck up, allowing me to work in peace and quiet, holding my ankles solidly and staring down at the desk.
I cocked my head and crossed my eyes. I almost started jumping with excitement, but his grip turned brutal on my legs. I exclaimed happily, “Oh! I see it! I see it!”
“Shh,” King Athon hushed gently. “What do you see?”
“I’ll tell you in a second.” I pointed at the shifter desk. “Walk over there. I want to see if yours has something on it, too.”
The King of Shifters grumbled under his breath too quietly for me to hear, but he walked carefully to his desk, standing behind it.
I kept my arms out for balance and repeated the process, crossing my eyes and slowly uncrossing them. And…there it was. I mused, “The Fae weren’t very creative. Same picture on this one, only in orange. Let us see if it’s on every desk.”
King Athon walked us around the room, stopping at each desk, allowing me to view it from my higher perch, not complaining until I knocked his crown off his head as he lowered me to the ground—it wasn’t an accident.
He started to grab it off the floor, but I snatched it first.
King Athon’s nostrils flared, and his tiger fangs bared under the Fae light. “Hand over my crown.”
“Be quiet. I’m trying to show you something.” I sauntered toward his desk, the bottoms of my father’s pajama bottoms dragging under my bare feet on the tiling—far too large on me. “Come and see.”
He stalked directly behind me, breathing down on my head. “This had better be important.”
“Yes. Yes. I know,” I mumbled. I stopped behind his desk and set his crown down on top of it, perfectly in the center. “Do you see it?”
King Athon’s black eyebrows snapped together in confusion on his warm, russet hued face, his gaze hard on his desk. I held my snicker at bay when the light danced on his solid-black shifter eyes differently—as he crossed his eyes, trying to see what I had. He eventually shook his head, stating slowly, “I’m not sure if I’m seeing this right. It looks like our realm but different.”
“Yes!” I nodded excitedly, and I pointed at various places. “It’s all in shades of orange, your kingdom’s color—each desk has its own kingdom’s shade—and inside the crown, it shows our realm.” My fingers drifted over the desk. “Each of our kingdoms. But, if you lift the crown…” I snatched his crown off the desk and slammed it against his chest, hardly noticing when he removed it delicately from my clutching fingers, my eyes avid on his desk. “If you remove the crown, the lines change within our kingdoms. They fracture with fissures from the outside in.”
King Athon’s voice deepened, grave and severe. “Earthquakes.”
“Maybe.” I crossed my arms over my chest and shivered from the chill, cold once more without his heat warming my body. “Your theory would only hold true if the fissures started from the inside out. These don’t. The artwork depicts them working in reverse. This isn’t about the giants waking—that is just one problem we have. This shows something else entirely.”
The King of Shifters tipped his head back and gazed at the ceiling blindly, his brows drawn deeply together. His words were carefully put together as he gathered his thoughts, taking much time to think, and stating slowly, “Outside. Forces. Will try to destroy the realm. And its rulers.”
I scratched at my forehead, studying the desk again, not liking his theory one bit. I whispered cautiously, lest a Fae hear my words in Fairy, “I think you are correct. The rulers must stay united in our quests. There is more afoot than what we know. Especially with the Fae searching for their own artifacts.”