The Journal Keeper (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) (17 page)

“I never should have come here,” Rianne muttered, attempting to pull out of his hold.

“Rianne,” Dorin snapped, jerking her back.

She fell into his lap ungracefully, glaring up at him when he forced her to face him.

“Stop this. You know you belong here with me and Nik. I can feel it every time we touch you, every time I press my lips to yours. You want us, Rianne, just as much as we want you.”

Rianne turned tear-filled eyes on him, inhaling shakily as she leaned against his arms.

“But I don’t want to want you,” Rianne whispered.

“That’s not true,
danalya
. I understand, though. These emotions are so powerful, so new, they’re bound to confuse and scare you. I know they scare me, and I’ve been waiting for them my entire life. Give us time, and I promise we’ll make you happy,” Dorin vowed, bringing her hand to his lips.

Rianne bit her lip, but said nothing, unwilling to encourage or crush his hopes.

“Nikolas and I will wait for as long as it takes, but you’ll admit it sooner or later,” Dorin promised, giving her a wicked grin.

A watery laugh escaped her just as a knock sounded against the door. Dorin stood and placed her in the chair before walking cautiously to the door.

“Who is it?” Dorin called.

“Me. Open up,” Nikolas’s voice answered back.

Dorin opened the door immediately, but didn’t back away as he looked at Nikolas. Rianne peeked over the back of the chair, watching the two men stare at each other. They seemed to be having a silent communication, and both turned to her at the exact same time.

“Come here, Rianne.” Dorin held out his hand for her.

She stood from the chair and practically ran to them, slipping under Dorin’s arm. Her eyes feasted upon Nikolas, more relieved than she’d care to admit to see he was unharmed.

“Did you find him?” Rianne asked.

“No. He must have fled right after shooting,” Nikolas told her darkly.

Rianne felt her panic return as her breathing increased and the world started to shake before her. Only Dorin’s arm around her waist kept her from falling as thoughts of death plagued her mind. The shot echoed in her mind, the sound of glass shattering, wood splintering, and then Nikolas pulled her to him.

“Calm down,
capora
. I will find him. I will make you safe,” Nikolas vowed.

“It’s not safe. Nowhere is safe. Oh, God, he’s going to kill me,” Rianne cried, falling against his chest.

“No,
danalya
. We would never allow that to happen,” Dorin assured her, stepping closer until his chest pressed against her back.

She was encased in a cocoon of safety and security, her senses filled with nothing but them. Surrounded by them as she was, she could believe they would keep her safe.

* * * *

Nikolas couldn’t seem to cool the rage that burned through him, but holding Rianne was helping to redirect his anger into something else that burned even hotter. As always when she was near, she completely took over his senses until there was nothing but her. He knew she wasn’t ready, but damn, he wished she was.

He saw it clearly, her body stretched out across his or Dorin’s bed, her brown hair flowing across the sheets, head tilted back as she screamed out her release. Gods, she was beautiful when she came, all flushed face and languid body. He loved the passion she kept so hidden, loved being one of the only two capable of unleashing it.

He bit back a groan when Dorin pressed her against him even more, and she shifted against his straining cock. His hands fisted on her hips, holding her still even as she turned those big blue eyes against him. He knew Dorin wanted to wait until after the mating ceremony to claim her, but it was proving to be damned difficult. Their mate was vibrant and stubborn, confident and smart. She never acted without thinking, something he could admire. He’d seen too many people killed in battle because they didn’t think before acting, allowing passion to rule them, but Rianne only unleashed her passion with them.

“We should go talk to Father, see about increasing protection around the castle,” Dorin sighed, breaking the silence.

“He’s already seeing to it. What we really need to do is get this one fed,” Nikolas said, lifting Rianne easily.

“Hey,” Rianne protested weakly, though her arms wrapped around his neck.

“Hush. You’ve had a rough couple of days. Let your men take care of you,” Nikolas insisted, carrying her from the room.

“I feel like I’ve been carried more since I’ve been here than when I was as a baby,” Rianne grumbled good-naturedly.

“Get used to it,” Nikolas said with a soft growl of satisfaction.

“Don’t worry,
danalya
. I won’t let him carry you all the time,” Dorin promised, keeping in step with Nikolas easily.

“Thank you, Dorin,” Rianne grinned.

“Of course. I’ll want to carry you some, as well.” Dorin smirked, shooting her a wink.

“Men,” Rianne huffed, shaking her head at the two of them.

“Your men,” Nikolas rumbled, nosing her hair.

Rianne gave him a sweet smile that nearly sent him to his knees but said nothing. He wondered if she knew just how much power she held over them. Just a look from her, and he felt like one of those domesticated dogs from her homeland, willing to roll over just for a show of affection.

He carried her straight through the castle into the dining room and placed her by the head of the table. Dorin and he sat on either side, and Dorin signaled the footman standing by the doorway to bring in dinner. Moments later, he was being served
lembuve
with potatoes, still steaming from the oven. Dorin had a plate of
pwasdon
over pasta. The footman set a bowl of what looked to be
miroyam
soup in front of Rianne, and she thanked him softly.

“What is this?” Rianne whispered to him, spooning the soup doubtfully.

“
Miroyam
soup,” Nikolas answered, digging into his dinner.

“What?” Rianne frowned, still stirring the soup.

“Chicken,
capora
,” Nikolas chuckled.

“Oh,” Rianne piped before slurping a spoonful.

He almost choked on his bite of cooked cow when she moaned in appreciation. Gods, but the woman always sent his mind to the bedroom.

“What’s yours?” Rianne asked, eying Dorin’s plate.

“
Pwasdon
in a wine sauce,” Dorin answered.

She gave him the same curious look she’d just given Nikolas, and Dorin chuckled as well.

“Fish,” Dorin said simply.

“Mmm. And you have steak, obviously,” Rianne observed, reaching over to poke her spoon against his meat.

“If that’s what you call it. Here it’s called
lembuve
,” Nikolas informed her.

“I suppose I’ll have to start learning your language,” Rianne sighed, frowning into her bowl.

“Do you want something else,
danalya
?” Dorin asked when she continued to stare at her soup.

“Oh. No, this is fine. I was just thinking,” Rianne assured him, spooning more soup.

Nikolas met Dorin’s gaze over her head and they shared a meaningful look. Their woman thinking wouldn’t lead to anything good, and Dorin quickly moved to distract her with tales of his father’s court. She seemed fascinated with their traditions, asking question after question. Nikolas smirked when he realized Dorin had created a monster. He should have known anything to do with culture would cause their mate to go off on a tangent, but perhaps that was his intention. Nikolas was content to listen to the two of them talk as he finished his own dinner.

* * * *

Rianne knew Dorin was attempting to distract her from her musings, and she was secretly thankful to him for it. Trapped in her thoughts was not a place she wanted to be, as they all revolved around the journal or the two shootings she had survived.

She thought about the heroines in her books, how they seemed so brave in the face of danger. Until yesterday, she had fully believed she would be one of them, but now she thought the writers might have been faking it. She doubted any of the authors had ever been shot at or kidnapped or any other horrid thing that always seemed to happen in the best books, so the reactions of their heroines had to be fake. She didn’t think she would’ve been able to attack the shooter, even if she had realized what was going on.

Maybe she was just a coward, and people really did behave like the characters in her books. She’d led a relatively boring life, always obeying the rules. She had waited until her twenty-first birthday before having alcohol. She hadn’t partied in high school or college, instead spending her time in her room, nose buried in a book. She’d never even gotten a speeding ticket. The most exciting thing to happen to her before she’d met Nikolas and Dorin was the one time she went with her college roommate to a frat party, where she stayed huddled in the corner the entire time.

Now she was living in a castle, mated to two shifters, and the target of some crazy assassin. No one back home would ever believe her if she told them. If she was honest with herself, she wouldn’t believe it either if she wasn’t living it.

Rianne was well aware that Nikolas and Dorin were right to worry about her. If she hadn’t ducked to get her shoes when she had, that bullet would have killed her. She didn’t think for a minute that it was an accident, but she was reluctant to admit as much to the two men. She knew, as soon as she voiced her concerns, they’d have her locked away in some tower until the threat had passed. Despite her fear of this mystery shooter, she was not going to hide away. Whoever it was, they would make a mistake, and Nikolas and Dorin would catch him. She just had to wait it out. That didn’t mean she had to go looking for trouble, though. She’d seen enough horror movies to know the person who went off on their own always ended up dead. No, she would stick close to Dorin and Nikolas until they deemed it safe or the assassin was caught.

Looking between the two of them, she knew it wouldn’t be too much of a hardship.

“What do you think, Rianne?” Dorin asked, bringing her from her internal ramblings.

“About what?” Rianne asked, turning to him.

“Spending the day in the library.” Dorin smiled, as if he knew where her thoughts had been.

“There’s a library?” Rianne asked excitedly.

“Of course there is. You didn’t think the books in Father’s study were all we had, did you?” Dorin scoffed, already rising from his chair.

“Yes, I did. Nobody told me anything different,” Rianne defended herself as he pulled out her chair.

“Well, consider yourself told,” Dorin smirked.

Rianne stood, placing her hand in his before turning to Nikolas.

“Aren’t you coming?” Rianne asked when she saw he was still sitting.

“I need to go speak to the Guard,” Nikolas hedged.

“Please. I’ll read to you, and you can rub my feet,” Rianne offered playfully.

Nikolas gave a gruff laugh and rose from his seat.

“How can I pass such an offer up?” Nikolas grinned, taking her free hand.

She was more excited than she let on at the prospect of a foot rub. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had rubbed her feet or kept them warm. For as long as she could remember she’d complained of cold feet, even in the heat of summer. Being in the ten-below temperatures of Wolvden, she was amazed her feet hadn’t frozen.

The minute Dorin opened the doors to the library, all thoughts of frozen body parts fled. She stood in the doorway, between the two men, and simply gaped at the room in front of them. The walls were filled with books, rising all the way to the ceiling. There wasn’t an inch of wall visible as she stepped farther into the room. Above her, the ceiling was a glass dome, providing enough natural light to make up for the lack of windows along the walls. A fireplace was carved into the wall directly across from the door, but it was relatively small considering the size of the room. The space had to be the size of all three of their bedrooms combined and then some. It was massive and simply beautiful.

“I assume from your stunned silence that you like it?” Dorin asked, coming to stand beside her.

Unable to form proper words, Rianne could only nod as her eyes took in the books hungrily.

“Take your pick,
danalya
. I’m sure Nikolas is anxious for you to read to him,” Dorin insisted, a hand on the small of her back urging her forward.

She had no idea how he expected her to pick. She had no idea where to even start, let alone which one she’d want to read first. She doubted they used the Dewey decimal system, but as she walked along the walls, she was able to find a discernible pattern to the books’ placement. When she came across William Shakespeare’s
Twelfth Night
, she barely managed to contain a squeal of delight. Grabbing it off the shelf, she practically ran back to where Nikolas and Dorin had settled around the fire.

Dorin sat in one of the armchairs, a large tome in his lap and his feet propped up on the short table in front of him. Sitting at one end of the couch, Nikolas had left the remaining space for her to lie out. She allowed her body to fall onto the soft cushions, the book in her lap.

“Ah, a woman after my own heart.” Nikolas grinned as she flopped onto the couch.

“You like Shakespeare?” Rianne asked, putting her feet in his lap and wiggling her toes at him until he chuckled, placing his hands over them.

“He’s my favorite playwright from your world,” Nikolas admitted, beginning to rub the arch of her foot.

“Mmm. That feels good,” Rianne murmured.

“Read to me,
capora
,” Nikolas encouraged gently.

Opening the book to act 1, scene 1, Rianne began to read. It didn’t take her long to lose herself in the story, developing a rhythm as she recited the words on the page. Through the entire play, Nikolas kept her feet warm, his callused hands incredibly gentle as they worked the soles. His fingers danced across the scar over her left foot, barely touching the bunched skin.