The Touch of Salvation

03: The Keys

ADALIND

"Daario, I heard King Goliath kicked your ass."

Daario rolls his eyes beside me as we enter our office. "Only because I let him."

Lucian's chuckle wafts through the air as he returns to the book in his hand. Lux stands beside him on the couch and makes a hasty exit. I don't mind. I have learned not to be insulted by what she needs to do to foster her comfort.

I know she doesn't want to harbor any ill will toward me.

"What did you say to push him to his edge?"

"I spoke of the men she takes to bed." He removes his bandana from around his neck and wipes the blood away. He's already healed. Fae can heal themselves with magic. They didn't heal as quickly as wolves, but still, it was quick.

I, however, did not. I did not have hyper-regenerative abilities, which is why I did not enter combat often. We don't know why I can't heal myself quickly.

"We are taking a troop of enforcers with us," Daario says.

"To where?"

"The Lycanthrope Kingdom - we have agreed to have our first meeting there. We don't know if we can trust them..."

"Do we think Goliath could hurt Adalind?"

No one answers.

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"Fucking hell," Daario sneezes into his arm. "I keep sneezing."

Lux rolls her eyes, a grin on her mouth. "Awe, is the big bad warrior allergic to wolf fur?"

"Is that what it is?" He sneezes again and removes his handkerchief to pat his nose. "This is why I stay away from this zoo."

"Be nice," Lucian says. "We are here as partners, not to make enemies. No jokes, no fighting, and for everything good, absolutely no fucking, destroying, or stealing."

"It was one time," Lux and Daario mutter.

I start to question bringing my people here with a small smirk. If anything gave me any slice of happiness, it was this lot. It made all those years in captivity worth it.

"Regent Adalind."

A feminine voice takes me away from my brigade and to the woman that stands yards away from me in front of her mate. I see his hand tighten around her waist. Wolves were fiercely protective of their mates.

My brigade genuflects at the Prima and Primus. It was a socially mandated custom, but they also did it to show respect to their King who didn't want to be a King. I nod once in respect. My eyes fall on the other lycanthropes behind them who bow to show the same respect to me.

I watch as lycanthropes glance at Goliath, eyes wide as if they couldn't believe he wouldn't bow to me. Demise cocks his head to the side in a silent order to demonstrate the same respect we did. Goliath takes a step forward.

"Thank you so much for your hospitality," I quickly say, stopping Goliath. He didn't have to bow to me. He never would have to. I refuse to have my mate show inferiority to me. "I feel that we may have overdressed." Looking at the shifters, I realize how different our apparel is. My people, fae as a whole, revelled in an ornate wardrobe; gowns, petticoats, jewelry. We loved bright, gaudy items. We were drawn to it.

Wolves, on the other hand, prioritized comfort, something I could understand. Grace did not wear a gown as she did when she was in Arden. Instead, she wore slacks like the men and a colorful shirt with frills.