She internally grumbled, wishing she was close enough to kick Jaren in the shin. Part of her was tempted to flash a flirty grin just to piss him off, but the silent, killing calm radiating from him had her pressing her lips together and untying her cloak.

Letting it pool at her feet, she placed both hands on her hips, looking up in time to catch Doren staring at the collar of her tunic, where the outer edge of a mark could be seen.

His nostrils flared, and he immediately raised both hands, stepping back to put a more respectful distance between them.

See? She thought, shooting a glare over her shoulder. No reason to go feral.

“Well, Doren,” she started, hoping he wouldn’t notice she hadn’t introduced herself, but his attention was no longer on her. It was past her, toward the tree line. He cleared his throat and took another healthy step back.

“Well, Doren,” she repeated, “Can you help me or not?”

He didn’t get a chance to answer before a harsh, clipped voice beat him to it. “You have no business being here.”

Vera’s stomach dropped as she watched Lady Death Glare step out from a group of female warriors just to the left of where she and Doren stood. Vera had been so excited; she hadn’t even noticed her.

She should’ve expected it given what Jaeros said, but it still caught her off guard. Taeral looked the exact same as she had in the throne room, with the only difference being the fresh, bloody knuckles she now had. Vera glanced around, fully expecting to see someone laid out with a busted face.

“You shouldn’t be here. We do not have time to satisfy your human curiosity, nor coddle you if you get injured.”

She continued toward Vera as she spoke until she was only a few feet away. “This is no place for you. Your guard dog should have—” She froze, shock flashing across her face almost too fast for Vera to catch. And then her lips curled up in a cruel smile, giving her an almost feline appearance.

“Excuse me. I meant I’m sure your mate is more than capable of satisfying that for you.”

Vera’s exposed collar suddenly felt on fire even as her veins went ice cold. And every head twisted toward her, each trying to see her better and figure out who, exactly, she was.

“That’s not why I’m here,” she argued, adjusting her tunic to cover the mark, even though it was far too late to do so.

If Vesstan truly hadn’t known she and Jaren were mated, he certainly would now.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

The heat from the dozens of eyes on her was sweltering, more so than the sun beating down her back. “I’m just interested in training. I can fight. I’m not a beginner who needs one-on-one instruction on how to hold a blade,” she added, since apparently Taeral had decided based on a single meeting that she was some pampered, naïve princess.