“Your objections have been noted, Elza.”
“Good.” Elza returned to pacing the outskirts of the lavishly-appointed sitting room Seth and his wolves were currently inhabiting. He rubbed his forehead with one hand, feeling exhausted. It had been a long, strange day… not helped, of course, by the terrible night’s sleep he’d had after the disastrous dinner with Lana. He couldn’t decide whether he was glad he’d stood up for himself and his people, or if he regretted not taking the opportunity to get on good terms with the new leader of their ancient enemy. Then there’d been the ‘official’ diplomatic meeting with the dragons—it had been all he could do to stop Elza from lunging at the implacable Prince across the table. And then, just when he was beginning to think they should simply cut their losses and ask to be taken back through the entrance to the cavern and returned home where they belonged, along came an invitation from the Queen herself for their delegation to be housed at the Palace.
“I think it’s good,” Josef said quietly. He’d been steadfast in his positive takes on the situation, balancing out Elza’s cold fury… something Seth appreciated more and more. “It’s a gesture of trust, right? Having us stay in the Palace, so close to the Queen and the Prince and all the important guys?”
“They don’t trust us as far as they could throw us,” Elza snapped. “You heard them at the meeting. They think we’ve been killing their people.”
“Some of them think that,” Seth corrected her, his expression troubled. “It’s complex. The entire political situation is in flux right now.”
“All the more reason we should get out of here,” Elza snapped.
“All the more reason we shouldstay,” Victor countered. “We’re forgetting what a major event this is. No wolf has set foot here. Ever. Every second we spend here, we’re literally making history.”
No pressure, Seth thought, fighting the urge to bury his head under one of the couch’s plush pillows. This argument had been going on all afternoon, ever since a small delegation of dragons, headed by the Prince, had visited their quarters to invite them to stay in the Palace instead. He’d accepted the invitation, feeling that to turn it down would be an insult that none of them could afford right now. Josef was right—it was a positive step, an unprecedented gesture of goodwill from the dragons. And on a more personal note, it felt like an apology from Lana for the night before.
And the quarters, he had to admit, were spectacular, putting their previous lodgings to shame. The place was an absolute labyrinth, the rooms stretching out deeper and deeper into the rock until he was convinced they had to be deep underground. Each wolf had not only a room to themselves, but what amounted to an entire wing—though he was amused to note that despite spending an hour choosing which room to lay claim to, the wolves had quickly found themselves all sharing the same space again. It was an unnerving contrast, having all this space while being deep under the earth. And it was strange to think that it was all unused wolves built what dwellings they needed for the pack members they had, each home built specifically for the needs of its intended inhabitants. Dragons, it seemed, had a very different approach.
They were no closer to coming to any kind of resolution when one of the palace servants slipped unobtrusively into the room to advise them that dinner would be served shortly. This, too, was a new development. Their old quarters had received regular deliveries of food, of course—none of them had gone hungry—but Seth was taken aback by the lavishness of the meal prepared for them. And Seth tried not to notice the way his heart leaped when he saw that the elaborate table had been set for more than just the five of them.
Lana stepped into the room just after they’d taken their seats, a vision in a shimmering dark blue dress that seemed to set off the pale blue of her eyes by contrast. Seth rose to his feet automatically. He felt an uncharacteristic pang of irritation as he saw the Prince was with her, himself wearing a dark blue suit that matched her dress. Did that mean that the two of them—he forced himself to stop following that line of thought, already troubled by the feelings it was setting off in him? What did he care about the nature of their relationship?
The meal was a little stiff, though Seth could tell that Lana was doing her absolute best to make things convivial. She was good at this, he observed quietly, sneaking glances at her over his wine glass as she gently coaxed the quieter members of his pack into talking. By the end of the meal, he was surprised by how easy the conversation had become. She’d steered them clear of thorny subjects seemingly effortlessly, focusing on what was shared between them—the land both of their people lived on. She was particularly curious about the Fog, which puzzled him. Surely someone who’d emerged from the Fog would know about its qualities—but it seemed it was a mystery to her.
“It’s always been there,” Josef was explaining, his eyes bright. He’d always been a curious soul, fascinated by the great sea of nothingness that encircled their home. “It’s not normal mist, like the kind that comes up on winter mornings. It’s something else, something dangerous. They say it does something to your mind, if you spend too much time in it—makes you forget who you are, drives you mad.”
“Those are just stories,” Seth said, aware his packmate was getting carried away. “There’s plenty of folklore about the Fog—and a lot of stories that contradict each other.”
Conrad chuckled at that, to Seth’s surprise. “We have that in common,” he observed wryly. “Our records regarding the Fog are… well, as you’ve said, full of contradictions.”
“That’s fascinating,” Lana said, her pale eyes wide. She’d been listening intently to every word that had been spoken tonight, and Seth was torn between his suspicion that she was just trying to butter them up… and his belief, deep down, that she genuinely was as interested in their stories as she said she was. “I wonder if there are similarities in your records—the wolves’ history versus the dragons’ written records, I mean. It would be fascinating to compare them.”
“Our records are all in here,” Elza said, tapping the side of her temple. “You’d need to let a wolf into your libraries if you wanted to compare them, and something tells me that’s not going to happen anytime soon.”
Seth tensed. They were straying dangerously close to politics again… but when he looked at Lana, she didn’t seem concerned. “Things can change,” was all she said, her odd accent making the words sound simultaneously portentous and casual. Then Josef changed the subject to an old story he’d just remembered, and the awkwardness faded.
With the meal finished, they all rose to their feet to allow the staff to clear the table. Seth’s wolves excused themselves as a group, their eyes lingering on him in an unspoken expectation that he’d join them. But some instinct made him shake his head, gesture for them to go on without him. Elza’s gaze stayed on him suspiciously for a moment or two, but they went. Prince Conrad’s blue eyes slid from Seth to Lana then back again, then he cleared his throat, murmured a formal goodnight, and left the two of them alone.
“This was nice,” Lana said, after a thick silence. “Thank you for coming, for bringing your wolves. I know the last few meetings haven’t exactly been… successful.”
“You heard about this morning, then.”
“Yes. I’m sorry. I should have been there.”
“I’m not sure that would have helped.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “There are centuries of enmity to wade through, here. You’ve chosen a thorny time to take the throne.”
“I certainly have.” He was surprised by the exhaustion in her voice. “It’s overwhelming. The political situation is so tense and complicated, and I only just arrived, and I’m very worried I’m going to … make serious mistakes.” Her nose wrinkled. “This language is so stuffy.”
He couldn’t help but smile a little. “Do you mean you’re scared of screwing it up?”
“Screwing it up,” she repeated thoughtfully, her eyes dancing. “Oh, I like that.”
“I wouldn’t use it in formal situations,” he said quickly.
“No, I get that.” She grinned. “Conrad promised to teach me to swear, but I don’t trust him.”
“He doesn’t seem like he knows how.” He hesitated, badly wanting to ask her what lay between her and the dragon prince. But it was too loaded a question—and at the end of the day, it was none of his business, was it? Had Lana always been standing so close to him? He felt his body tense, felt a sudden electricity crackle in the air between them, knew somehow that she felt it too. Those pale blue eyes were fixed on his face, and suddenly he was having trouble remembering what they’d just been talking about.
It didn’t matter. Somehow, her lips found his—whether he’d stooped to kiss her or she’d risen on her toes to meet his lips, he’d never know. All he knew is that she was kissing him, her body pressing against his as she wrapped her arms around his neck, and he could no more have broken away from her as he could have stopped himself from breathing. The palace around them disappeared, the complicated politics, every worried thought that had plagued him over the last few days… all gone, replaced only by the heat of her lips, the glow of her body in his arms. When had he picked her up? Suddenly, her legs were wrapped around his waist, his arms supporting her as she pressed herself closer, using her newfound height advantage to kiss him even more deeply. Breathless, she broke away, murmuring something in his ear that for a moment he couldn’t understand.