“It is why I would send him with you,” Ewan said quietly. “You’ll need an ally, someone you can trust without question.” He glanced apologetically at Rionna as he spoke.

Rionna stared stoically past the men to the tapestries hanging over the fireplace. You could have broken stone on her face. No hint of emotion. Her eyes were guarded, no betrayal of her thoughts.

Then she turned as if deigning to acknowledge the men sitting around her. She gave a delicate, feminine sniff, but somehow Caelen knew it had cost her not to let out a decidedly male snort.

“It’s a wonder you allowed yourself to consort with people such as the McDonalds. Why bother with an alliance when we’re so clearly inferior and untrustworthy?” Rionna said.

Caelen nearly crushed her hand in his. His nostrils flared and he would have chastised her for speaking to the king and his brother thusly, but something in her gaze held him back. It wasn’t so much the anger, but hurt lurked where before she’d allowed no hint of what she was feeling to show.

It was gone so quickly he wondered if he’d imagined it.

The king chuckled while Ewan grimaced.

“I realize this isn’t easy for you to hear, Rionna. You have my apologies. I would not send my brother into a hostile environment without support.”

“He is more protected by being my husband than he is by your man,” she pointed out. “Perhaps you should concern yourself more with not insulting me.”

At that Ewan’s eyes narrowed. He was angry at the implied threat. Caelen was merely amused.

“Now, Rionna. You’ll have him worried you’re going to split my gullet while I sleep,” Caelen drawled.

He leaned over, wrapped his hand around her nape, and did what he’d been dying to do ever since she floated into the room. His lips mashed against hers. It was no kiss of seduction, accompanied by sweet gestures and honeyed words.

It was a command to be silent. To cede to his authority. It was a reminder of whom she belonged to.

The feisty little wench nipped at his lip. He tasted blood but he also tasted her sweetness. He didn’t rear back as she likely expected. He deepened the kiss until his blood was forced onto her tongue. When she tried to pull away, he hauled her against him until she was flat against his chest, her ample breasts straining at her bodice.

Only when she went slack against him and the fight leeched from her body did he pull slowly away. He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, all the while staring into her eyes.

“See, Ewan, she’s perfectly harmless. You just have to know how to handle her.”

She sprang to her feet, her eyes flashing furiously. “You are the worst sort of braying ass!”