Chapter 85: That was close
Ayla’s hand shot out, closing around Damon’s forearm before he could take another step.
"We cannot go in through the front door."
"Why not?" Damon glanced down at her hand, then back at the open door. "It is open."
"Yes, but it is open, which means someone is in there, and we do not want them to know we are..."
"It does not matter." Damon’s voice dropped. "It is not Cassian, and it sure as hell is not my father. So who would dare be in there?"
The door swung wider before he could finish.
Beta Soren stepped out of the archives room. He stopped short at the sight of them, his hand still resting on the frame.
"Prince Damon." His voice was pleasant. "What are you doing here?"
"I should be asking you the same question, Beta Soren." Damon folded his arms across his chest. "How did you get access to the archives room?"
Soren lifted his hand, waving the keys in his hand before smiling.
"I have business in the archives room. As you well know, Prince Damon, we are at war. Your father and I, while deciding to host a banquet to attend to the needs of the people, are also making other plans. Which I, of course, cannot disclose to you."
Damon’s eyes narrowed at this.
"Of course." He finally said. "Forgive my curiosity. It is not every night one finds anyone lurking in the restricted wing of the palace."
"Lurking." Soren repeated the word, tasting it. "I would hardly call it lurking. I would call it doing my duty."
He pocketed the keys, his gaze drifting to Ayla.
"Besides," He said, jerking his head toward her. "I should be asking what you are doing here and with her no less."
Damon’s hand found the small of Ayla’s back, pulling her to himself with ease.
"We were just messing around." he shrugged. "She is my mate, after all. We wanted to see if we could fuck in the archives room." He let out a low chuckle. "I have never tried it before. Seemed like a shame to waste the opportunity."
Soren did not return his mirth. His face remained straight and his eyes cold.
"Amuse yourself however you like, Prince Damon. But I would advise you to do it somewhere else. The archives are off-limits to everyone but the Alpha and now myself. If anyone else had found you here instead of me, this conversation would be taking place in your father’s study, and it would not be a pleasant one."
Damon inclined his head, the gesture almost a bow. "Noted. We should return to the party." He turned to Ayla, and she felt the tug of his hand at her back, steering her away from the door and down the corridor. "Good day, Beta."
"Good day."
They walked. Ayla kept her eyes forward, her heart slamming against her ribs, her hand gripping the fabric of her dress to stop it from trembling. She could feel her father’s gaze on her back, and she did not breathe properly until they rounded the corner and were out of his sight.
"That was close," she whispered.
"We still need to get back in there." Damon muttered.
"Not tonight." Ayla responded. "My father would be skulking around now that he knows we tried to get in and we cannot risk walking straight into him again."
Damon sighed at this.
"So back to the banquet then?" he asked.
"First, to my room so I can get back into my dress then back to the banquet."
"Okay. Let’s go."
"You do not need to come with me." Ayla stopped him.
Damon regarded her with hooded eyes but he said nothing in protest.
"See you in the hall."
Ayla nodded and watched him walk away.
...
Soren stood in the corridor until he was sure they were gone before he turned and stepped back into the archives room, pulling the door shut behind him.
He turned around to Alistair standing in the corner.
"You really should be fucking careful," Soren swore under his breath, crossing the room in three strides. "If I had not come around in time, you would have been caught in here."
"But you did come around in time. You are a life saver, as always."
Soren’s jaw tightened. He could feel the pulse beating in his temple, the slow burn of a rage he had been swallowing for weeks.
"What did you say to Willow?" He asked.
"What do you mean?"
"You know exactly what I mean." he snapped.
"I do not know what you mean, Soren. Did your daughter say something to you? Something that upset you? I can hardly be blamed for the contents of her pretty little head."
Soren’s hand shot out, fisting in the front of Alistair’s tunic. He slammed him against the wall, the impact rattling the shelves.
"How dare you?" Soren’s voice was low and shaking with anger. "How dare you go near my daughter?"
He watched a smile tug at Alistair’s lips.
"Again, I do not know what you mean."
Soren’s grip tightened. He could feel the heat of his own fury climbing his throat.
"What did you tell her?"
"She is a smart girl, your daughter. She will put the pieces together soon enough. And when she does..."
Soren drew back his fist, letting it hang in the air.
"Go on. It would not change a thing and you know it."
"Your king promised me. He promised that you would keep your mouth shut."
"Yes, he did but that was before he found out something."
Soren frowned.
"What is it?" he asked.
"It does not concern you and my mouth is shut. I said nothing to your daughter... nothing that you can prove anyway."
Soren’s fist trembled and for a long moment he stared at the man in front of him, at the glint in his eye... the madness in his gaze and he felt fear crawl up his spine unlike anything he had ever felt before.
Something was different now even though he could not place his finger on it and it infuriated him.
He finally let go.
"Get what you need and get out of my pack." Soren muttered. "The next time we meet like this, Alistair, I will kill you and I will feed you to the crows myself."